To Fulfill the Writer In Me

Posted: December 30, 2010 in December
Tags: ,

So this is what’ve been working on for, oh about a month. It’s very rough, but that’s slightly how I want it to be…Please tell me what you think if you should read it. I call it Wake Up.

Interrogations

“You can end all of this if you’ll just tell us what you know,” the interrogator says as I try to catch my breath. I am strapped to a chair in a darkened room. They keep switching from trying to drown me to punching my body. They just kidney punched me and if feels like I can’t breathe right now.  “Just tell us what you know and we’ll let you go,” the man smiles at me sweetly. But I know better. The blood and sweat in my eyes are blinding but I can see through his lies. I’ve been here for so long; I don’t even know how long it’s been. My clothes are ripped; my body is cold and bruised, but I haven’t said a word since I’ve gotten here.

            “Alice, it’s important that you listen to me right now,” he whispered to me. “If they ask you promise me that you won’t tell them any of what you know. You can’t tell them how we met or anywhere we’ve been; nothing. I have to disappear. I wish I could take you with me, but you’re already in too deep. I won’t put you in danger anymore. Once you tell them you don’t know anything they should leave you alone,” he said kissing my forehead.

            “Where is he?” the man yelled at me. I just stared at the table in front of me with the large basin of cold water, waiting for the ice to grip me. Trying to drown me in a puddle didn’t seem like a very terrible torture at first, but I couldn’t help but remember things when my head was underwater. As my head was slammed down into the freezing water I saw his eyes. I had to be careful not to inhale the water as I saw the blue-green of his eyes stare at me.

            “Why can’t I come with you? If we’re together then it will be harder for them to hurt us,” I said trying to convince him we shouldn’t split up.

            “You know we can’t do that,” he frowned. “I will be too worried about you getting hurt.”

            “Then don’t focus on me. Just focus on the issue at hand,” I whispered.

            “That’s impossible,” he whispered kissing me.

            “Are you ready to tell me something useful?”  The man asked as my head was pulled out of the water. I didn’t say anything as I looked up into his angry eyes. “Take her back to her cell!” he barks to a guard.

            My name is Alice, prisoner number 92368 of Parker’s Institute for the Criminally Insane. I am here because the man I love knows a secret about our government. A huge secret that no one, including a highly decorated Marine is allowed to know. He disappeared and thought I’d be safe once he was gone, but he was wrong.

            “I don’t know why you don’t just tell Dr. Parker what you know,” the guard says to me once we’re out of the solitary counseling area. The solitary counseling area is confined and very controlled. There are no cameras and since we’re all “criminals” the “counselors” are given the right to choose how we are to be counseled. “You aren’t going to talk to me either are you?” the guard asks me. He’s a new guard with the name of Johns.

I just shake my head slightly. I haven’t spoken a word to anyone since I was put here so long ago. I knew they could try to get some sort of information out of me if I started to talk. So I kept silent. It is just better this way.

“Must be awful lonely being the only one in your head,” he comments. I’ll admit it is nice having a new face trying to figure you out. That’s all people do here, try to figure you out. There’s not much to figure out for me though. I just want him back. I miss him.

My cell is in solitary confinement, just in case I do speak up by accident. The government couldn’t find him so they turned to me. I did exactly what he told me to and played dumb, but they know if anyone knows where he is, it’d be me. Dr. Parker is actually a general who was over seeing something big. I don’t know exactly what. He thought if I didn’t know the whole secret I’d be safe. I wish he were right. I wish he were here.

Having me in solitary has made it easy for the government to be able to try to pump me for information. No one is allowed without security clearance, so the government can regulate who sees what’s being done. It’s horrible here. The food is terrible, but if you want to survive you eat what you can. It’s always cold and as far as I know I am not getting new clothing. The ugly grayish tunic I received when I was first put here is in rags and the simple slippers are barely existent. I don’t even have a bed. I sometimes wonder what they tell people so that they don’t get in trouble for the amount of neglect I am receiving, not to mention the abuse.

“Just remember I will come back some day,” he smiled. “As soon as I can I am coming for you,” he said, his hands cradling my face. 

It’s the night shift now; I can hear the subtle clinks of keys as the guard walk by on their rounds. Every ten minutes they come back around. I don’t like to sleep anymore. It’s like being shoved down into the water, I remember things. The dreams just make my heart ache and I’d rather hurt from insomnia than memories. Maybe that’s why they can get away with keeping me here; every time I wake up I wake up screaming. It’s the only form of speech I’ve allotted since I’ve been here. I try so hard to wake up my brain enough to clamp my mouth shut so I don’t scream, but I can’t help it sometimes. The tears burn so much on the new wounds too.

Day 164

It must be December, it’s day 164. I’ve been here since July; I haven’t seen him since July. It just feels like a giant hole is being ripped through me, and I am disappearing inside of it. Sometimes it all feels like it couldn’t possibly be real. Maybe it’s just Dr. Parker’s “counseling” finally kicking in…Parker tries to tell me that it was all lies and nothing that he told me was true. Everything was fake and he didn’t really love me and he just needed someone to take the fall for what he did. I’ll admit I sometimes wonder if the life I remember is just a dream. That…he isn’t coming back. That he isn’t real. I almost don’t even remember his name, but the flashes of memory are proving me wrong.

The inmates here know that I won’t talk to them. For some reason they find joy in asking who did what to be put here. Most of them aren’t really insane; they just got off on insanity bargains. I don’t know why but they do actually leave me alone. I’ve been beat up by other inmates before, but now they don’t even care. Maybe it’s that fact that I don’t react, I don’t scream in pain, I don’t talk or show emotion, I just take it. The only times they see me are at meals when I am allowed out and time out side. It’s just a prison here, a prison where we can be tortured.

Sitting at the tables for meals you see the alliances that have formed here, and not just among the inmates. There are guards here who know things aren’t right. They form their groups and you can see the displeasure on their faces when they’re with someone they don’t particularly like.

 The inmates are split into their little groups at all times. They act as if it will protect them when the things that can hurt you the most are usually on the inside. There are the beaters; the inmates that are here on insanity bargains, the stims; the drug addicts that have fried themselves, the schizos; the voices tell them things, the screamers; their deceases are so painful for them that they’ve lost their minds from the pain or the fear. But then there’s me. 

It’s almost like the other inmates are scared of what I’ve done to get here. They don’t talk to me because I won’t talk back. But then there are the exceptions. There are the few that like to play the “game”. They take turns trying to get me to talk to them. The different groups try over and over. First the beaters try, then the stims try, and the schizos try sometimes. The lesser of the screamers are the only ones that try. They still have some of their mind left and they sympathize I suppose.

Today it seems that it’s the screamers turn. A thin blonde girl keeps looking over at me; she must be the lucky contestant or the bravest of them. She’s only wasting her breath. I won’t talk to any of them. I can’t risk letting something slip. I only look down at my tray of food, waiting for it to all be over.

“Who was he?” she asks. It startles me; I didn’t see her cross the room to me. I instinctively take a gasp of air, but catch myself before much sound can escape. I can still my voice and lips but my eyes were always open doors to my emotions. I could feel the tears brimming at my eyes and the painful sting blurred my vision. “I hear you at night,” she explains. Oh god what has she heard me say?

She sees the fear on my face and says, “Don’t worry you only scream and say come back.” I look back down at my tray again. “I am Christy by the way.” I look up and I can feel a traitor tear escape down my cheek. My hand flies to wipe it away and I see her frown a bit. “It’s okay; you don’t have to talk to me. I just thought you looked rather lonely. Just nod if you want me to leave you alone,” she says. Her hand is on the table and she looks as if she wants to reach for mine. I take my hands off the table and fold them in my lap, but I keep my eyes on her. I don’t want her to leave.

I see a small smile spread across her face. She must be very proud of her self; she’s the first person to get some response from me. I don’t know why but she’s got something to her that is nice. I like her for some reason, but I don’t know what or why. She must be in solitary as well. That’s the only way she could have heard me screaming.

Day 165

“We’re going to try something new today,” Dr. Parker says motioning me into the room. It’s dark and cold as usual, but something isn’t right. The table and chairs are gone and the room is almost empty except for something in the back of the room. It has a sheet on it, but it looks like an operating table. This can’t be a good thing; it’s never a good thing.

Dr. Parker crossed the room in his small quick strides. I wonder if that’s why he takes such pleasure in his work, because of his height. He’s one of those small men that has a huge ego and has to prove themselves to the world. In his egotistical fashion he quickly pulled the sheet off the object to reveal a table with restraints and wires poking out of it everywhere.

“We know you aren’t sleeping. That’s all we want you to do is sleep,” says Dr. Parker.

Oh no. The only place I can’t be guarded. What am I going to do? I know I’ll only dream about him and then everything will be lost. Suddenly there is a sharp pain in my back and I can’t keep my balance. They’ve given me a sedative to make me sleep. I have to fight it though; I can’t let them see into my dreams. 

“You see the way this machine works is by Nero-optic stimuli. If you won’t tell me what I need to know then I’ll just let your dreams tell me. But I bet you’ll fight the whole way won’t you?” Dr. Parker smiled at me. “I’ve thought of that however. You see the lovely scientists that developed this piece of machinery also made a handy adjustment just for us. You see I can now pick and choose what you dream about. I can guide you to what I need.”

Oh no. This can’t be happening. He never told me that they’d be this resourceful.

“You know I love you. That’s the only reason I have to leave you behind. They’ll attack you so hard because they’ll see you as my only weakness,” he frowned.

“How am I your only weakness?”

“I love you would do anything for you. If anything should happen to you I don’t know what I’d do,” he said kissing me.

“Then take me with you,” I smiled.

“You know I can’t.”

Don’t fall asleep. Don’t fall asleep. They had laid me down on the table and were hooking me up to the machine. I have to find a way to stay awake and I can’t think of him just in case. Fight it. Stay awake. Stay awake. Okay, what can I think about that will occupy my mind? Think, think. What was in your apartment before you left?

The walls were white. The last day I was there it was rather dark despite the many French windows. It was raining. It was cold. The small table in the kitchen was empty and the chairs were pushed in as always. There was a glass of water on the counter. I remember sitting at the table looking at it. I could see the smudged fingerprints on the cold glass. They were his. It was the night he had left. He had been with me for two days telling me that he was leaving.

Stay awake. Stay awake. Don’t fall asleep. Don’t let him down. You can’t let them find him.

“Why isn’t she going to sleep?” Dr. Parker barked at the nurse.

“We sedated her, but she’s not responding to it.”

“Well give her more,” he said glaring at me.

“We can’t or it will kill her,” the nurse said. At least she’s defending me. “There’s nothing more we can do. If she doesn’t fall asleep now we will have to wait until the sedative has worn off.

Stay awake. Stay awake. I can feel my mind weakening and everything starts to blur. No, no. Stay awake. I could feel myself shacking. It feels so cold in this room.

“Why won’t you fall asleep?” yells Dr. Parker. “She will not be moved from this room until she’s fallen asleep!”

“But sir the other inmates and guards will grow suspicious,” says the nurse.

“I don’t care! She’s been here long enough. We need to have something soon or…” Dr. Parker cut off.

The room was silent for a few moments. The nurse looked as if she knew what Dr. Parker was talking about. What is he hiding?

“Let her go,” he sighed. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

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