Iriña struggles with a lot of things. That's the problem with being a five-year-old with a genetic defect that makes you incapable of sleep. You spend all night reading, and learning from your mad-scientist neighbour, until you've got the mind of an...
Author's Note: You may notice that this is a very long chapter. That's just the way it came out. But I'm glad to have finished it, because it means I'm getting over the anxiety that's been plaguing me this week. Today I got on a train and went to a new town to see if a change of scenery helped me write, and it looks like it did. So as a bonus, here's a picture of what I heard is the world's largest terracotta fountain (probably my best picture of the day):
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Iriña lost track of how much time had passed before someone else came into the operating room. She had read both of the science books they had given her, but had tried the childish picture books as well. As promised, they weren't completely mindless. The books told the story of Kelly doing childish things, but despite the bright colours and simplistic illustration style, they were written to entertain someone older than Kelly herself. And the story wasn't that bad.
She kind of knew that she was just reading a story, and that it was made up to show you how nice it could feel to act like a good baby and get praise from Mommy and Daddy. Iriña didn't study psychology, but she could spot that some linguistic patterns were repeated; once talking about the reader, and once talking about Kelly. Trying to make you draw an unconscious parallel between the two, so that a more gullible child might start to trust Kelly's judgement in what lessons she believed. That would be insidious.
Iriña hadn't noticed any change in her thoughts after she started drinking the bottles with the drugs in. Perhaps it was a little easier to focus on the words in front of her, but she wasn't really thinking about that. She was too caught up in wondering what Kelly would learn next. The other bottle she'd tried was the one that made her feel a little light-headed and giddy; but that was fine. She knew it was probably making it harder to think, but that didn't matter because she was too little to think. And it wasn't like the one on the plane; it didn't mess with her memories or anything, so it wasn't a problem getting a bit giddy.
She didn't even notice somebody standing behind her as she traced her finger along the lines of words in the last book. She wanted to get to the end, and find out if Kelly could start feeling better soon. The girl in the story was reading a book as well, but hers was a boring book that a schoolteacher had told her to read. That wasn't so much fun, and it was a long book too, so before she finished it she was always distracted by her tummy.
"But she knew that she didn't need to think about her tummy now," she read with a big smile. "Her tummy grumbled, and she knew just what to do. She did a little push and made poopies in her diaper, like a good girl. Good girls know how to go in their diapers, it's the most natural thing in the world. And now you have learned that, you can be a good girl too."
Kelly hesitated for a second there. She wanted to be a good girl, of course she did. Just like Kelly in the book, so she could feel comfy when she was reading. There was a little voice in the back of her mind telling her something different, but she couldn't quite hear it, and she wasn't sure what it was trying to tell her. But all those things were too hard to think about, and she wanted to keep on reading her book. So she went back to reading the last couple of pages, about the end of Kelly's school day, and about counting down the last couple of pages until she was ready to close the book and enjoy all the new things she had learned. The Kelly in the book was going home to have fun, and that was as satisfying an ending as ever. Kelly closed the book, smiled at all the things she had learned, and did a little push. She beamed with delight, knowing what a good girl she was, and then put her book back on the little trolley beside her.
