Divided Shadows_2

Part 9

2 months ago

Lotta sat slouched in the corner of the sterile TV room, her eyes glazed over as scenes from some ancient sitcom flickered across the screen. The institution had stripped her of any real sense of time, the days bleeding together, each one as dull and hollow as the last. Most days, she kept to herself, wrapping her thoughts around memories of Angela, replaying them to keep from losing what little was left of her own identity.

But today, the room seemed unusually crowded, and Lotta found herself distracted by the low murmur of voices nearby. Her gaze landed on a girl sitting a few seats away, who seemed to be talking animatedly to anyone who would listen. She was chubby, with a wide, beaming smile and laughter that bounced off the walls, warm and inviting in a way that felt foreign in this place. Lotta looked away, trying not to be noticed, but it was too late.

“Hey!” the girl called out, her voice bright with a cheerfulness that felt almost invasive. She scooted over, her grin unfaltering. “I’m Molly! I think we’re in the same group with Dr. Pierce. I’ve seen you there.”

Lotta forced a thin smile, giving a polite nod. “Yeah, maybe,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She could already feel herself retreating, pulling up the walls she had spent so much energy constructing. Molly’s energy was overwhelming, too vibrant, too optimistic. Lotta knew better than to let anyone in; she’d been burned before, haunted by connections that turned out to be little more than mirages. And she couldn’t bear the thought of losing someone else—another face disappearing, leaving her alone with the suspicion that she might have imagined them all along.

But Molly was relentless. She popped up in the group sessions with Dr. Pierce each week, always cheerful, always chatting. And over time, Lotta found herself warming to her, against her better judgment. Molly would whisper jokes during the sessions, making Lotta stifle a laugh, or catch her eye with an exaggerated eye-roll when Dr. Pierce droned on about their “journey toward self-actualization.” Soon enough, it became harder to keep her guard up, and she felt a sliver of hope, however small, that perhaps she had found someone real—someone who could be an anchor in this twisted place.

One day, after the session had ended, Molly pulled her aside, eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. “Listen, Lotta,” she whispered, glancing around to make sure they were alone. “I… overheard something. A plan. A way out.”

Lotta’s heart leapt. “Out? Out where? you mean… escaping?”

Molly nodded, her expression serious now. “Yeah. There’s a group. They’re planning to get out of here soon. I talked to them, and they agreed to let me join in also they are cool with me bringing a friend along. If you’re in, I could introduce you.”

The words sounded too good to be true, and a familiar pang of doubt rose in Lotta’s chest. She had been warned about false hopes, about clinging to fantasies that would inevitably shatter. But as she looked into Molly’s eager face, something inside her sparked—a feeling she hadn’t felt in months. Hope. She hesitated, her mind warring with itself, but eventually, she nodded.

Over the next few days, Molly introduced her to the group. They met in secret, gathering in a forgotten storage room under the pretense of scheduled therapy, sharing hurried whispers and hastily scribbled plans. There were five of them in total, excluding her and Molly: Tom, a wiry man with sharp eyes; Sarah, who was quiet but fierce; Jake, who seemed to have an encyclopedic knowledge of the building’s layout; Rosa, a woman in her forties with a calm, reassuring presence; and Marcus, a tall, lanky guy who rarely spoke but seemed to be the muscle of the group.

As the weeks passed, the plan began to take shape. They scouted the layout, mapped the guards’ routines, noted down every exit and entry point. There was an exhilarating thrill in it, the idea of freedom just within reach. Lotta started to trust Molly, leaning on her as her ally, her confidante. They spent hours in that dusty room, strategizing, running over each detail until they knew every step by heart. Molly’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Lotta couldn’t help but feel that maybe—just maybe—she was finally going to break free.

The night of the escape arrived, the air thick with anticipation. The group moved in silence through the dimly lit corridors, each step bringing them closer to the freedom they had only dared to dream about. Molly took her hand, giving it a squeeze, her face alight with excitement. Lotta felt a rush of gratitude and relief. They were doing this together; she wasn’t alone.

They reached the final door, a heavy, imposing barrier between them and the world beyond. Jake took out a key card he had swiped weeks earlier, swiping it through the scanner. There was a beep, a small green light flickered, and the door clicked open. Lotta’s heart pounded as she looked out into the darkness, the cool night air brushing against her face.

But as they stepped over the threshold, a flood of harsh lights blazed on, illuminating the courtyard. Guards were everywhere, forming a solid line in front of them. Lotta’s stomach dropped, her pulse hammering in her ears. What are the guards doing out here as they were waiting for them?

Dr. Pierce emerged from the shadows, his face twisted into a smug, knowing smile. “Well, well. I see you’ve all failed the test.”

Lotta’s blood ran cold as his words sank in. “Test?” she whispered, barely able to breathe.

“Yes,” he said, looking at each of them with a cold, detached curiosity. “This entire… ‘escape plan’ was orchestrated by the institution. We wanted to see who was ready for the real world. Who could recognize their own reality.”

Lotta’s gaze shot to Molly, a sinking feeling clawing at her gut. But Molly’s face was calm, almost serene. She stepped away from the group, her expression shifting into something colder, more calculating. Lotta’s heart twisted as the realization hit her like a punch to the chest.

“Molly…” she choked out, her voice barely a whisper.

Molly gave her a faint, pitying smile. “I’m not a patient, Lotta. I was sent here to observe you all, to see who could be trusted with freedom. And it seems… none of you were quite ready.”

Lotta’s legs felt like they were made of lead, her world spinning, unraveling with each word. She had let her guard down, opened up, trusted someone—only to find it was all a lie. The laughter, the jokes, the quiet moments of connection—it had all been a carefully crafted illusion.

Dr. Pierce’s voice cut through her haze of shock. “It’s clear that your grip on reality is still… tenuous. And until you can accept that, you’ll remain here. For your own good, of course.”

As the guards began to move in, separating them, Lotta barely registered their rough hands on her arms, her gaze fixed on Molly’s face. She wanted to scream, to demand answers, but she felt hollow, drained of every ounce of strength.

As they led her back to her room, the walls seemed to close in, the cold sterility of the institution pressing down on her with newfound weight. Alone in her cell, Lotta crumpled to the floor, her mind replaying every moment with Molly—the laughter, the fleeting glimmers of hope, each one now tainted, poisoned by the knowledge that it had all been a game.

For the first time, she felt the full weight of her captivity—not just of her body, but of her mind, shackled to the institution’s endless games, unsure if she’d ever truly be free.