Amidst Our Broken World

Chapter 9 - Boundaries

{Not a part of the story, but 5:18-6:56 just made me fall in love with Jamie Campbell Bower all over again. My ovaries exploded when he looked at me like that.}

"You cannot offer subjects any of your possessions without permission. And you shouldn't have interacted with the subject more than needed," Miller chastised me.

"I was just trying to get her to talk!" I defended myself, "She's being picked on in there, and she's too scared to tell anyone. I was getting her to open up!"

"Doesn't matter," he answered bluntly, "You weren't told to do so."

I was about to continue justifying my actions when I realized that it would have been futile trying to argue against the brainwashed orderly. He couldn't think for himself, and that wouldn't change regardless of what I said. So, I shut my mouth and withstood the rest of Miller's lecture in silence.

~

I didn't get to see Peter for the rest of the week. I worked with Doctor Ellis for five days straight, so I assumed I was now her designated orderly assistant. Miller stopped working with us after the first two days. I guess I was familiar enough to help around independently without my supposed mentor.

This afternoon after lunch, no tasks were given to any of the orderlies, save for Peter and I. We were to herd the subjects, who were currently in the Rainbow Room, to the "Test Room" at once. Normally, I would've been upset about having to do extra work while everyone else got the rest of the day off, but the notion of being with Peter erased any hard feelings about my assignment.

We arrived at the Test Room with the children. It was another rather spacious room, except its walls were made with black tiles, and the floor was black marble. I ogled at how different it was from all the other white rooms. Though it maintained the same level of blank simplicity, there was something more ominous yet significant about this room. The lights seemed to be placed intentionally far apart, so that there would be darkness in-between the areas they illuminated, and a spotlight would be on whatever was positioned underneath.

The subjects lined up against the unusually lit wall, their eyes on Brenner for what to expect for today's test. Peter and I each stood in our own corners as we were accustomed to.

"Today, we are going to play a game." Brenner took a stick of white chalk from his breast pocket and began drawing a circle around himself. "The rules of the game are quite simple," he said as he drew another circle about six feet away from the previous one. "Stay in your circle."

Drawing himself up, he explained, "If you leave your circle, you lose.

"The last person standing in their circle will get to spend an extra hour of free time in the Rainbow Room." Murmurs were exchanged between the subjects upon hearing the incentive.

Brenner continued, "Now even though we are going to be competing against one another..."

He called Two and Six up, each subject in their own circle. So Eleven's main bully was called 'Two', huh? "...I don't want you to approach this any differently than one of our tests.

"Now, this is very important. If you allow anger or emotion to invade your thoughts, you will fail. I promise. Do you understand?"

I wondered if this had anything to do with Four's painful empathetic experience with the cat last week.

The children answered unanimously, "Yes, Papa."

"Good."

How sick. To abuse these children and still have them treat you as some sort of father figure.

Peter and I made our way over to the subjects to blindfold them for better concentration. As I tied the white cloth around the younger boy's eyes, I noticed Two staring at me with the same curious expression as he did that day when I had confronted him with Eleven. It didn't last long before Peter placed the blindfold over his eyes.

The blonde and I both stepped back to our respective corners.

"Begin."

At first, nothing seemed to be happening. Then in a flash, Six's body slammed against the wall behind him.

"Very good, Two," Brenner remarked. "Number Six, please, take a seat by the door."

I started to walk over to retrieve his blindfold when Peter beat me to it and flashed me a look, indicating he would be doing the blindfolding.

Five was called up next. Two threw her back the same way he'd done to Six.

The same thing happened with the next thirteen subjects. The last remaining standing subject was Eleven. Everyone else was seated at the door.

As she walked up to her circle, the image of her small, frail body being tossed like a rag doll made me fear for her sake. The bully versus the bullied. What if she'd hit the wall so hard that her skull cracked open?

Peter tied the blindfold around her small head, and leaned down to whisper in her ear: "Good luck."

Brenner flashed him a suspicious look. He hadn't said that to any of the other subjects. I guess both of us shared the same soft spot for Eleven.

"Begin."

What I had expected to be a two second beat-down ended up lasting much longer than a mere two seconds, with both subjects still standing in their respective circles. Heavy breathing echoed throughout the room as they struggled against each other in an invisible battle. I hadn't expected for the weak-looking girl to be able to hold her own.

Just as relief began to settle in, her feet suddenly slid back against the marble, but she managed to stop her heels from crossing over the line of chalk. Blood dripped down both of their left nostrils. He must be tired. Maybe Eleven did stand a chance of winning after all now that they were on even ground. The seated subjects looked at one another in amazement at the runt's hidden strength.

Eleven drew herself up, walking back in the middle of the circle. I could hear her seething through her teeth and fuming under her breath as she shook with intensity. She threw her arm forward, letting out a piercing shriek of rage. Two flew backwards, cracking the glass behind him as he rammed into it, and crumpled onto the ground.

I could only stand and stare in shock at what had just happened. Whispers of bewilderment sounded amongst the subjects. I turned to see Peter's expression, but he didn't look the slightest bit surprise. In fact, he looked proud.

Two stumbled onto his feet. Both subjects removed their blindfolds to look at one another. One stood in fear as the other walked away, radiating with bitterness.

"Well, well. It looks like we have a new winner."