I am laying on a cold, stone floor, shivering violently as shadows cast themselves among the chains and skeletons scattered across the room. A dull, grey blanket lies pathetically on the ground about to feet away from me in a sad little heap. I glance down at my body, shocked to see naked skin, bruised and cut, where my pants used to be. I am completely naked, and I scramble to cover myself with the blanket that I cannot quite reach. My screams echo throughout the room, blurred, almost impossible to hear. I feel as if I am screaming internally rather than physically.
The little grey pile begins shifting around, making my breath catch in my throat. My cries no longer escape my mouth, so I watch intently as the gray heap takes the shape of an emaciated woman. Her eyes are burned into her head, the little grey orbs dull and drab. Dark hair cascades down her back. But I am not afraid.
It is Candace, my mother.
She says nothing, but I can hear her screaming my name in vain. I cannot walk, or crawl, or run to her, I can only watch, for my hands are tied down. I see she cannot move either. She whispers screams to me, and I cannot help her.
Just like the day she died...
My brain hurts, and it feels as if evil spirits are clawing, tearing at my mind. Ripping away the folds of my being savagely, waiting to take me over....
I wake with a start.
"WHAT THE HELL??" I yelp. My eyes dart around, and I am no longer in the dungeon. Candace is replaced by an old leather couch creaking under the whale-like body of Nancy and the lanky, awkward form of Doctor Haywood, the dermatologist. And another woman with chocolatey skin and dark hair in a painfully tight bun.
The woman with the bun walks over to me, touches my forehead, and bites her lip. A look of genuine concern paints her face, twisting her eyebrows and making her frown.
"Hon, are you alright?" Says the woman. Her voice sounds like honey with lemon. Sweet.... but slightly painful. "You were twisting around and shouting like mad... have you been having nightmares?"
"Yes... well not so much nightmares, more like visions." Shit. I could have lied. But not to this woman. Her eyes look into my soul...
"Ah." she replies. I glance over at Nancy, wishing that Candace was there instead. But it will never happen. "Before I, erm, continue, let me introduce myself. My name is Doctor Aiyanna Parks. I'll be working with you for a while. See, you, my dear, have been clawing at that couch for hours, screaming in agony, and, well.... you looked like you were in some pain.."
"Wait, are you a psychologist?" I ask in horror. I am not insane. No. No. No. No. No. "This has to be a mistake... I feel tottally fine.."
"Oh, I never realized, with my degree and all, that clawing at things and screaming in pain was normal. I suppose I'll be on my way then." Doctor Parks snaps. Nancy launches herself off the couch (which is surprising considering that she most likely weighs about the same as the couch) and sprints to the door, blocking the way of Doctor Parks.
"Naw!!" shouts Nancy, blocking the doorway. "June, er, Juno, is not okay! She was thrashin' like that in the car, screaming and her back was itchin' and her eyes were tearin' up! You bloody best take care of her before I-"
"You're quite immature," says Doctor Parks cooly. I'm beginning to like her already. "I'm a psycologist. I have to take care of her. It's my duty and my career." She strolls over to the couch, where I lay in a little heap of pain. My back still feels as if it's a burger on a hot grill. She summons Doctor Haywood to check on it.
I am mortified. Doctor Haywood has passed out on the floor.
"What a help," groans Nancy. I roll my eyes, part annoyed, part scared out of my pants. At least I'm not naked.
YOU ARE READING
Wretched
أدب المراهقينAll her life, Juno has had some serious problems. Her mother died mysteriously at the age of three, her father's death occured soon after, leaving her with her stepmother, her brother, and stepsister, all who think she is an outcast. Juno contemplat...
