I remember the shadows turning into faces as they lifted me from the seat. They carried me by my arms and dragged me down the long hallways. I tried to push them away but I couldn't figure out how to move my arms.
My body hits something hard, then I saw a familiar face. Bextley. She was peering down at me, then watched as they locked the door. The feeling comes back to my arms and legs and I can finally sit up.
She was still staring at me as I begin to shiver, "Did they make you do it?"
I'm a murderer. I get up from the bed, tripping until I hit the ground, throwing up into the toilet. She stands behind me as I scream into the air. She rolled her eyes, "It gets easier." She shrugs, "Just wait."
"I can feel them," I whisper, spitting into the toilet, "I still feel their pain," I turn to her and shudder, "I felt it. Like...I felt their hearts stop and their...bodies just sunk..."
Bextley rolls her eyes and drops onto her bed, "Get over it, we've all had to do it. You're not different."
She doesn't understand. I am different. I flush the toilet and lean against the wall so she wouldn't be able to see me. I palm my hands down my thighs and close my eyes tight. I can feel every single nerve in my legs. I dig my nails into my skin but stop when I see blood.
I've never focused on myself like this before. I hold my hands up to my view, have I always had these scars?
Who did this to me? I pull my hands down when I hear Bextley beginning to snore quietly. I peer over my shoulder, seeing her dirty blonde hair in two long braids.
I stare at her, then slowly walk to the bed, I stay a few feet away so she wouldn't try to stab me, then hold my hand to her arm.
I chew the inside of my cheek as I see her heart pumping in her chest. I slowly close my fist and watch her heart start to stop. She chokes in her sleep but when I opened my hand she was fine.
What did they do to me? I walk around to my bed, still looking at her. She's so sweet when she's asleep. I stare down at her, then pinch my face, she woke up and glared at me, "Stop touching me!"
What have they done?
I ignore her, laying on my back so I couldn't look at her, "I hate you." She whispers.
"I hate you more." I lie as a tear escapes my eye.
That night, I didn't sleep, I kept my hands to my side and didn't take my eyes off of the ceiling. I wanted to dream about that man and feel safe, but I'm scared of hurting him. He's the only nice person I have and I'm not sure he's even real.
I knew Bextley was awake when she began exercising. Still, I remained on the bed, touching the scars on my hands. It clicked last night that I was the one hurting myself. I just...don't remember why.
Once the door was unlocked, the first person to visit was Noah. He steps over Bextley and sat on her bed, "Emma died. I think they buried her in the snow."
"No one cares," Bextley snaps.
I sit up and look at Noah, then drag my nails down my arm. He twitches and rubs his arm. I flicked my elbow and he jumped. I gulp when he looks at me, but don't say anything.
I walk away and out the door, tying my hair up and shivering. There's something wrong with me. I hear the Professor down the hall and try to get away but one of the men from yesterday snatches my arm and pulled me towards the professor. I pulled back but it was pointless.
"How do you feel?" I stare at the floor. I can see his cane and shoes and it's all I want to see, I don't want to hurt him. Regardless of the pain, he has caused me, I'm not a bad person. "How did you do it? How did you get inside of my head?"
"I don't know." I whisper, "I don't want to do it again."
His cold hands seize my arm and he gently takes me through the building. I finally have the courage to look up when we were standing in front of a window, "One day, you will be in charge of this place, Alana."
I look at him, and hear his heart beating, "What did you do to me?"
"You're fixed. I want to explore more of this gift you have. Have you tried it?" I lie and say no. He stands closer to me, easily towering over me. He reaches for my face and holds it tight in his hands, "When you see those children again, I want you to pick one, and end their life."
I jerk backwards and shake my head, "No!" I shout.
"Alana," He glares back at me. Then raised his hands, I turn and see the guards about to grab, "Don't. No, I'll handle this."
The Professor comes to me, and places his arm around my shoulder, "You must be tired after last night. Let's go join the children, yes?" I say nothing as he walks me back through the corridor. He was singing in German, swaying slightly.
This guy is nuts. I look him up and down, then he stopped and faced me, "You're doing it again."
"What?"
"Stop getting into my head; stay out!"
"I have no idea what you are talking about. I'm just standing here!"
He brings the cane across my cheek, then we both turn to the doors as they pull a screaming Bextley out of the training room. She was squirming and shrieking out obscenities in Russian. I watch them drag her through the building.
She spits at my feet as they take her past me. I roll my eyes, "Leave her." Teague instructs, "Bextley, what have you done?"
The guards drop her and she almost hissed at them, before facing us, "Nothing! I was fighting fair and square. She picked up the spoon and I stabbed her with my knife."
I cringe, "You're psychotic."
"Shut up!" She screams at me, "If he wasn't here I would kill you too."
"Bextley, nobody will kill Alana. Remember?"
She rolls her eyes, "She isn't as good as you think. She cries and calls out for him. She is still—."
"Roman!" He shouts at her. I twitch when I felt a shift in her emotions. She was so angry, now she's terrified, "Is this true, Alana? Do you still dream?" I look at him, then nod.
"What's wrong with dreams?"
"How do you see?"
"It's nothing," I snap, "Why can't I dream?"
"Take them both to the hole. I don't want them out for forty-eight hours."
Bextley thrashes again as they grab her arms. I didn't react as she did, but I still felt her anger. I turn my head to the ground and it disappears. I face Teague and felt nothing. He feels nothing as they carry us away.
It was to the far end of the castle-like structure. Bextley was first into a room, then they threw me into the one beside hers. I turn back to them as the door shuts.
I can't see anything. There was no light, not even from underneath the door. I feel around the room and found a bed, I throw myself onto the hard wooden bed. I touch the walls around the bed, then I heard it, her heart. I press my ear to the wall and feel her anxiety, "Bextley?" I whisper.
"Leave me alone!" She screams, "This is all your fault."
I clutch my hands and feel the fear boiling up inside of her, "I'm scared too," I say, "I know you are."
She ignores me. I let go of the wall. It's best not to pry the brain of a psychopath. Instead, I laid there trying to sleep. I could see the shadow of a man looking at me. I can feel his hand on my face, it's so cold but it makes me feel safe. I screw my eyes shut tighter hoping to see his face clearly.
These dreams come more and more, a man standing beside me in a comforting way, his cold hand on my face as he says things to help me sleep. I don't know him. I don't even know who I am.
Why does everyone treat me so differently? I touched the wall and felt a tear slip down my cheek as I feel Bextley's sadness. She's so scared, "Goodnight Bextley, we're going to be okay." I whisper.
Silence. Then I heard her sigh, "Goodnight, Lana."
