‘Miss Keane, we have been expecting you,’ the same man who had threatened me in the alley immediately told me on my arrival. ‘We are glad to see that you have complied with our wishes.’
I snorted, ignoring every single lesson in manners my mother would have been forcing on me if she knew I was in this situation. Maybe I had to be here, but I didn’t have to like it and I was going to make that perfectly clear to anyone who would listen. They might as well have kidnapped me in the middle of the night for all the co-operation I felt like giving them.
‘You bastards didn’t exactly give me a choice now, did you?’
He ignored me and as I followed him down the hall, I couldn’t resist flipping him off. As if he had eyes in the back of his head, he instantly stopped and one arm flew out to enclose my wrist. His grip was strong and I could feel the bruises already spring to life beneath his fingers. I tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let go.
‘Disobedience and lack of respect will not be tolerated here. Both are punishable by either a lashing or isolation.’
‘So I take it that sneaking out after curfew is a huge no no,’ I replied sarcastically as he released me.
I rubbed my wrist as he ignored my remark and continued on. If I wasn’t feeling like I was the biggest winner in the loser lottery, I might have actually enjoyed my surroundings. They were nothing like the stories I had been told as a child about this place. They had made this place sound like some sort of primitive cave but that wasn’t the case.
Well, at least physically it didn’t resemble a cave. The emotions I was getting from the place weren’t exactly warm and fuzzy. Something told me there would be no chocolate on my pillow every night here. The carpet was a rich, luscious red that reminded me of the sort of thing they had when the celebrities attended all those award shows and the walls were a black colour which contrasted drastically. On second thoughts, it was kind of like a cave if someone who had money wanted to create one. It had that feeling of claustrophobia about it that already made me want to run and hide.
Everything was richly furnished. There were paintings done by some of the city artists, some I had heard of and others I was probably too lower class to ever know. Everywhere I looked, there were tall vases filled with plenty of foliage as well as crimson and black roses. The irony of that didn’t escape me either as I strolled past. My grandmother had been what they might have called a natural medic and she knew the meaning and use for every flower, weed, herbs and then some. Mourning death – how ironic.
The decorative halls soon gave way to something that was more like I’d pictured this place. My bet was that an insane asylum had more colour to it than the walls on either side of me did. Hell, this place probably would make me crazy in the end. The pale blue which I’m sure they thought would be a calming influence on us only made me think how I would probably never see the real sky again if they had their way. Sure, some of the good little worker ants got day passes and these nifty tracking anklets so they could venture outside the walls of my new prison but knowing my attitude, I wouldn’t even get close.
‘You are here,’ he told me finally, pushing open a door.
No enjoy your stay, see you later or anything. He just turned his back and left me to my own devices. Inside the tiny room wasn’t much of an improvement either. Two identical halves of the same room with a single cot like bed in white, paint chipped metal with dark blue blankets and covers. There were two desks with straight backed chairs and student lights in the corner. What, they actually expected me to work here? I don’t think so.
I had been standing there for about five minutes, already loathing my surroundings and missing my old life when a tall, skinny red head entered the room. She looked surprised to see me there but very quickly that expression was replaced by something else. It looked like she didn’t want to share her space. Well, that made two of us. I didn’t even want to be here!
