“I’ll eat later.”
“Nope.” Hilary crossed to the window and yanked my curtains open, filling the room with light. “You’re going to get up, eat, and then get dressed. Sleeping the day away wouldn’t be much of a punishment, now, would it?”
Was this chick serious?
I pushed myself to a sitting position, squinting. “What?”
My minder crossed her arms. “You’re going to get up. Now. Then you’re going to eat and get yourself ready for the day. After that, you’re to write an essay detailing all the things the government has done for you.”
I had to be dreaming.
“You’re serious?”
Hilary didn’t blink. “As a heart attack. Nowget up.”
The way she overly pronounced the last two words told me she meant business, so I reluctantly climbed out of bed. I liked it cold when I slept, and the chilly air caused goose bumps to break out on my skin, so I grabbed a sweatshirt and pulled it on before crossing the room to my breakfast tray.
When I sat in front of it, Hilary beamed like a proud parent. “There’s a good girl.”
She was seriously pushing her luck. I was twenty-six, which meant I was a woman, not a girl, and I wasn’t her child, so she didn’t need to talk to me like I was. If I ever did make it out of this program, I was definitely going to tell her exactly what I thought of her.
I hadn’t noticed that Hilary had carried a messenger bag into the room until she bent and opened it. She retrieved a stack of paper and a pen, set them on the table next to my tray of food, and gave a firm nod.
“Here’s everything you need. I’d like it to be at least two full pages but, of course, you can always write more.”
As if that would be happening.
I cut into the gray sausage patty and shoveda big piece in my mouth so I couldn’t tell her to go to hell. I chewed slower than necessary. It was too salty and barely tasted like meat, but it did its job.
Thankfully, Hilary realized I wasn’t going to respond and scooped her messenger bag up off the floor. “I’ll be back with your lunch, and I hope to see some good progress.”
When the door clicked shut behind her, I swallowed the foul sausage I’d been masticating and set down my fork. Even if the food had been appealing, I wouldn’t have had an appetite after that encounter.
I stared at the blank pieces of paper, offended and irritated and just plain angry. How the hell could this woman expect me to do this assignment? It was laughable, and she was even more delusional than I’d thought. Or maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she’d come up with this bullshit essay idea just to torture me a little more. That had to be it because there was no way she thought I was even a little grateful to the government.
I ground my teeth and stewed, but unable to stare at the paper a second longer, finally got up and started pacing. I felt like a caged animal being poked by unruly children. Ready to attack or escape or both. I had no choice when it came to this essay but knew every single word would be a lie. The worst part, though, was that they’d use it against me. I had no idea how, but they’d find a way. It was inevitable.
I just had to get it over with.
Before sitting down to work, though, I carried my plate into the bathroom and scraped the food in the toilet, then flushed. I wasn’t the least bit hungry, but I was no fool. If my plate was still full when Hilary came back, I would be in even more trouble than I already was.
The next few hours consisted of my hand cramping up while I stewed in my own self-loathing. I channeled Hilary as I wrote, regurgitating every piece of propaganda I’d heard her utter since joining the program. I wrote about how the Department of Fertility had taken every measure they could to make sure the process was as easy on me as possible, how they’d provided forboth my physical and mental well-being, and how generous they were with compensation for my time. It was all bullshit and could have seriously been published in their idiotic magazine – God, I hoped they didn’t think of that – and made me even more angry than I thought possible, but I did what I had to, and by the time the door clicked open a little after noon, I had almost two full pages. Front and back.
Hilary beamed when she saw it. “How impressive!”
She set down my tray – chicken fingers, mushy carrots, canned peaches, and a pathetic looking salad – and scooped up the essay. I was starving since I hadn’t eaten breakfast and grateful the lunch was one of the few good things this place actually served – it wasn’t like you could screw up chicken fingers – and I dug in while Hilary looked over what I’d written. My scalp prickled, and I couldn’t help squirming as I thought about how much she was going to love every lie I’d scribbled. Probably she’d tell everyone how this punishment had helped me reflect on things and how altered my view of the program now was. She’d probably pat herself on the back for her part in it. Stupid bitch.
“Well,” she said when she’d finished, “I’m impressed. I hadn’t thought you’d be able to finish. And so fast, too.”
“Just doing my part,” I grumbled, then took a big bite of chicken.
“Well, it’s very good.” She looked around, smiling when she spotted my dirty dishes. “And you ate all your breakfast, too! Excellent.”
Was she going to give me a gold star or what? God, this lady sucked.
I focused on my food.
“I’ll take this,” Hilary said, tucking the essay under her arm, “and your breakfast tray. I’m very proud of you so far, but remember that this is a punishment, which means no napping. Use the rest of the day to reflect on how you’ve behaved during your time here, and how you can change things for the better. Okay?”
