While I was escorted from my room, I thought: Why do they knock? They always come in anyway. Why do they even bother to knock, when they usually don't? Jackasses trying to have manners?
Actually, I was being escorted nicely. Must be jackasses trying to be nice.
I was sat down in a room and told to wait. I yelled "Where is she!?"
Holy shit! I yelled that not knowing I was about to. The grief of realizing what had been off struck me like another large vehicle.
They drugged me so that I wouldn't fight back when they took her. I wanted to beat myself for allowing myself to get drugged, to act like that even on them.I should've more aware damnit! An hour, minute, lifetime of waiting in the room that was bare, for the exception of the chair, I was brought into another sterile looking room. The lights above were too bright.
Struggling against the restraints. Purposely struggling against the restraints. The screaming bloody murder; it all came back. All of the terrible-
Another door opened with a with another creak. It's obvious the staff never bothered oiling anything.
I was nudged inside and I complied. The room was fairly nice- warmly furnished with dark-grain wood, white lounge chairs, desk playthings. Extremely modern-business cliché right?
"Well, we certainly did not expect that radical type of behavior from you," said the orator, sitting behind a desk. She continued, "Sit, sit, let's talk about this." She flipped through a stapled packet. I caught a glimpse of one of the pages, and it was full of random strings of information, except for my name in a corner. She perked up like a sunflower, "Woah there, I was going to go through the usual spiel of your behavior being absurd, but no, no this is great, this makes sense."
"What makes sense?" I asked a bit urgently and hoarsely.
"It's fine, I'll allow it," she said absentmindedly. I was confused, until I looked around to check who was being spoken to, then saw on of the guards putting away a baton.
"Sit, Dear, sit. I'm very pleased with you."
I complied with her request and sat stiffly in the chair. She most likely never saw people long enough to warrant them a seat, or be generous enough to.
"Don't be a stiff, relax. Here, have a cookie." She then grabbed for something in her desk and set it up on the table. She failed at first to notice my confusion because her head was once again buried in papers.
I was hesitant to accept the sugary delight, but after the torture this place has delivered, I grabbed it and took a small, testing bite.
"It's not poison, I promise." She winked.
At least it tastes good, I don't think poison tastes good, it should be fine....
Long after I finished the cookie, and sat in excruciating silence, I dared to speak. "Why?"
She looked up, "Why? Oh yes that. I don't understand why they all get so shaken up over it. It's just a bit of cruelty to another human is all."
I felt disgusted at her statement. I felt like throwing up, but kept it down.
I probably killed her! Then a tear rolled down my cheek.
To the guards she said, "Move her training up two, no three divisions. I think she has the capacity for one of elite, come the proper amount of time. That is all."
The women in uniform moved from their post to pick me up and drag me away.
"Stop! Tell me what's going on!" I kicked down one of the guards and lost the grip of the other. They quickly recovered and reached for my arms, but I narrowly dodged them and ran towards the door.
Shit!
I wouldn't be able to open the metal door fast enough, so I made one hell of a decision: I went for the window.
