“Of course you can’t.” I squeeze the air between us with my hands as if it’s his head. “Because you’re not my friend. Friends do not play games like this.”
He takes a step toward me, head tilting as if to saycareful with what you say next. “And how would you know what friends do? The two closest individuals in your life abused you!” His voice is like a deep rumble at the center of the earth, all while matching the roar of a lion.
And it punctures my heart, sharp and quick, like a needle pulling thread.
I back away toward the door, tears stinging the tissue behind my eyes.You’re right. I’ve never had a real friend, Dessin. How would I know?
How pathetic I must look in his eyes. There’s a sudden regret that reaches the creases along his brow as he takes a step forward, reaching for me in pity, and it’s enough to send me on my way, slipping from his room like a ghost that haunts these walls. The lonely girl who has never known true friendship. The one that accepts violence in place of kind words, and the one that collects demeaning remarks in place of a hug.
You have me all figured out, don’t you, Dessin?
36. Isolation Tank
I have time to sparebefore the demonstration of the new treatment.
To keep the tears from springing to my eyes in front of other conformists pacing the halls, I duck into Chekiss’s room. The second I face him, all it takes is one look for him to understand that grief is holding me hostage.
He gently pats the open space next to him on his bed, and the look of a caring father softens his eyes, opening his hand for me to hold. And we sit there, absent of words or pleasantries, staring at his wall while watching the sconces flicker.
He showed me an ugly truth today, Chekiss.
I want to tell him what happened, not only with Dessin but how Aurick has been treating me. But the story is far too long, and I don’t have the strength to hear myself acknowledge any of it.
~
There are approximately fifteen ofus gathered in this new treatment room. It’s the same size as the others, except without the tiled floors. The patients’ rooms resemble it the most, with one giant eyesore in the middle of the room.
Meridei stands in front of the group, trying to hush the women on my left from guessing at this new treatment that will be implemented for patients that need a change to better correct their inconsistencies.
“I’ll wait until you’re finished interrupting,” she barks at the three girls that are currently the loudest. The group settles down for her to continue. “I know you’ve all heard the rumors that there will be a new treatment to help some of us change it up with our patients. This is accurate. Suseas showed it to me a few days ago and briefed me on the protocol.”
Meridei lifts a black sheet from a mounted object behind her, revealing what looks like a metal coffin. I shudder at what it is supposed to do. “This new treatment is calledthe isolation tank. It is used to keep the patient in isolation for at least eight hours. It is so tightly sealed that the tank is completely black. This will deprive them of sight entirely. There will be an oxygen tube on the side.”
“That’s it?” The strawberry-blond orderly asks in disbelief. “They sit in the dark for a little while?”
“If you’re not going to let me finish, I suggest you leave,” Meridei says, cheeks turning red.
The orderly motions his hand forward to continue.
“The oxygen tube also expels a new gas that will induce the patient into hallucinations. But not justanyhallucinations, this gas triggers the part of our brains, the hippocampus, that recalls memories, and the amygdala, that adds fear and terror. This will, without a doubt, cause a trained response for your patients to fear you, and therefore, do whatever you say. I cannot say how I know this, but I heard from a reliable source that this new drug was brought to us directly from Demechnef.” Meridei smiles smugly, crossing her arms and awaiting the uproar from her excited peers.
“Straitjackets will be available before they enter the tank to keep them from hurting themselves.”
I hear words likefinallyandincredible.
I look around the room in horror. How can so many people not see the wrong in all of this? Am I really the only one? I catch Meridei’s narrowed eyes while I scan the room.
“I need a volunteer for the demonstration,” Meridei announces over the excited voices. A few hands rise, but her eyes are pinned to me. She nods her head at two orderlies on either side of me. Hands press against my back, driving me forward.
Instinctively, I take a step back, fighting the force the way one would stiffen against an ocean wave. Heat prickles my skin from inside my body, and I shake my head at the dozens of eyes waiting for me to comply.No.But they’re nodding with encouragement, and I’m coaxed to step up to Meridei’s side.
“I’m not comfortable in small spaces,” I tell her quietly. Surely, she understands. After all, she’s already tried to poison me. Wasn’t that enough to satisfy her thirst for causing me pain?
“Set an example for the others,” she says with obvious mischief tightening her smile. “It’s only a demonstration.”
Once, playfully, I shoved Scarlett in the coat closet after she stuck my nose in a blueberry pie. We were having fun, running around the cottage with gooey, blue sauce in our hair and chasing each other around the furniture. But I made the mistake of not knowing the details of her abuse, not knowing the ghosts that still clung to every closet. I was caught in the moment, devious with giggles and floating about like the feather from a pillow. I tricked her into thinking I was in the closet, and when she opened the door—I pushed her in.
I’ve never heard a scream quite like that one.
