Ephemeral

Rehabilitation

The high pitched screeching would make sure that sleep was impossible for me – I had found myself nodding off two or three times. It wasn't pleasant to be purposefully kept awake by loud sounds when all I wanted to do was sleep and recover my energy...I wanted my mind to rest instead of it being active and awake.

I would keep myself busy by placing the rice grains in intricate patterns instead of eating it. This wasn't the type of sticky rice that you would find in sushi...of course, I didn't like sushi because I detested rice in every application that it was used. It looked like bland, plain white rice that probably felt like sandpaper as it scratched the back of your throat going down.

I rearranged another piece of grain and stopped to take a look at the art that was currently sprawled out on the ground without a clear pattern or idea in mind.

This brought a whole new meaning to 'playing with your food'...

Doesn't it?

It's an abstract masterpiece.

I let out a small tired chuckle and continued to make a crooked line out of the rice to form more intricate art. I never had an art class in high school, and sometimes...I wondered what it would have been like. It might have been nice to destress from the tiring subjects like math, or English by picking up a paint brush and grabbing some paint during school hours.

I don't see how you could be graded on art when it was always subjective and –

I really have to pee.

I stopped placing the rice down and let my hand linger in the air as I came to this sudden realization. I looked around the room and then over at the door, wondering when the men would come and get me. I didn't know how long I was held captive in this room for – it seemed to be like weeks had passed. Every single day bled into the next, and I thought I could tell the time by how often I would get rice.

It was hard to tell now.

Time was irrelevant in a place like this and I felt myself disassociate frequently since the only thing that I had to look at was the color white. Often, I would stare off into space and let my mind wander as it always did, and I would become lost in my thoughts. I was also starting to see shadows that weren't completely there, and when I blinked my tired eyes, the black masses would slowly disappear only to reappear out of the corner of my eyes a few seconds later.

It might have been creepy if I didn't find it comforting...?

In some sick, disturbing way, it meant that I wasn't alone in here.

The door opened up loudly, causing me to jump in surprise.

I quickly darted my head and looked at the four men dressed in white. Just like all the other times they had come in, they were wearing the same things and holding the exact same objects used to rid me of my senses temporarily.

This was going to be the third time they were doing this to me –

Was that how many days it's been?

.

It could have been day three...?

.

But -- I wasn't sure anymore.

They looked at me expectantly, as if they weren't expecting me to fight back this time. I slowly stood up from laying down on my stomach, using my hands to push my tired, malnourished body off the ground. I automatically placed my arms behind my back and looked down at the ground, waiting for them to do what they came in here for.