In the Classroom

Chapter Twenty Three: Pillows

“So, this is where I work,” said Adam, showing me the hospital. By now, I was able to walk on my leg better. I didn't need a wheelchair or a crutch, I just had a limp. My head was almost healed and my arm was getting better. I looked around the clean white walls, pristine without any hint of grime. The workers walked around in clean coats, talking quietly and softly amongst themselves. I looked up at him, and Adam smirked at me.

“Why did you bring me here?” I asked him. He shushed me almost immediately. I glared at him, but he brought a finger to his lips. He waved away his coworkers that stared at me very disdainfully.

“When we're here, we must always be as quiet and respectful as we can,” he told me softly. I glared at him.

“You could have warned me,” I snapped at him under my breath. He took my hand gently, and I froze at his touch. He smiled at me, kinder this time.

“Calm down, Josh. I didn't bring you here to kill you, so you can relax,” he assured me. I glared at him.

“I just don't want you assaulting me again,” I snarled at him.

“Don't say that, you'll ruin my reputation,” he said, faking shock from my words. I rolled my eyes at him, but I let him lead me along through the halls. I kept thinking how soft and gentle his hands were for a post-mafia member, but I knew those same hands could overpower me effortlessly.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked him softly. He winked at me. I rolled my eyes at his cliche moment, but it still made my heart flutter.

“You'll see. I think you'll really want to see this,” he told me. I looked at him in surprise, but he still gave me that infuriating smile that always said, “I know what you don't!”

He pushed me into a white room suddenly and I fell onto the floor with a squish.

Squish? I thought to myself. I looked up and saw a girl huddled in the back of the room. I looked back at Adam, but he was concealed behind the door. I remember there being a one way window facing the room, so he was likely viewing me where I couldn't see him. Biting back a swear word, I sat up and crossed my legs. I looked over at the girl. She looked clean, but I could tell her personality wasn't as neat as her appearance. Her eyes the shade of the sea were wild, looking over the room like a maniac. The room was filled with pillows, which I estimated were just for color. Painted with happy faces and smiling flowers, the pillows were the only source of color in the room, aside from the girl's startling black hair, like the shade of the night sky. Her skin was chalk white, almost entirely washing out with the white cushioned walls that surrounded her. She wore a pale white dress that was plain and loose. I could tell she didn't like it, from the way she always looked at it in disgust. She looked back at me, her eyes widening in fear.

“Who are you?” she asked me softly. I looked back at her. For some reason, I was afraid of her. Her expression mimicked mine. For me, this girl spelled out danger. I didn't know why, but every being in my core wanted to run as far away from her as possible.

“Are you here to examine me?” she asked, pulling her drab clothes tighter around herself in order to shield herself from me. I got the feeling she had done that before. She wasn't a stranger to shady activity, and she certainly had been a victim. Still, she wasn't doing a very good job of protecting herself, and neither were the people who dressed her. I could see her white panties from how she angled herself. She hid from me as if I was going to jump her, but she wasn't doing a very good job of it.

“I'm not here to hurt you. Don't worry,” I told her calmly. She relaxed a bit, but her eyes were still wary of me.

“Are you going to give me more of those pills that make me go to sleep? I told you, I'm not insane! My father would know! He would tell you! Where is he?! Where is Yolanda?!” she yelled at me. I froze. Her father...why would I get such a foreboding from that one word. She suddenly gasped and clamped her mouth shut against pain I could not see, clenching her watering eyes together as her whole body convulsed against the cushioned wall. Subconsciously, she slammed her head against the wall, fighting against an invisible force. She gave another violent shudder, this time, collapsing onto the floor as she continued to writhe in pain. Suddenly she was still. Her fit had been completely silent. I wasn't expecting anyone to come running into the room to help. I rushed over to her side, taking her hand in mine. I clumsily fumbled for her wrist, feeling for a pulse. Please, please, breathe! I begged. It wasn't just because I wanted her to live, no it was also the fact that it would look like I killed her, and with enough digging, it wouldn't be hard to discover that I work for the mafia.

She took a sudden shuddering breath, sitting up slowly as she did it. She looked like a picture right out of the movie The Last Exorcism, her head looking like it could twist around 180 degrees at any moment. She opened her eyes and looked at me. Something had changed in their depths. I couldn't tell what, but I didn't really want to stay to find out. I scrambled away from her as quickly as possible and pressed myself against the wall, preparing myself for an attack. She didn't move an inch. She just sat there, staring at me—bored even with how the events had turned out. It was silent for a good five minutes in the room, us staring at each other, guessing the other's true intent. I finally realized she was waiting for me to break the silence.

“W-who is your father?” I asked her softly. She narrowed her eyes at me furiously.

“Why do you care?” she asked me suspiciously. Her eyes widened suddenly. “I knew it. You're a competitor for his business, aren't you?” she accused me. She leaned back the wall, a hint of pride in her gaze. “You're wasting your time, mister. I don't know anything about my father's business plans, and if you're waiting for me to crack again, another man already came in here with the exact same idea—and I bit his hand when he tried to talk to me.”

“What?” I protested. “No, no—where did you get that idea?” Then again, I do look like a wealthy business magnate's heir since Adam forced me into this fancy suit, I decided in an afterthought.

“Then what are you? A detective? I already told your flunkey that I had nothing to do with my father's murder,” she told me smoothly.

Murder?! I thought in shock.

“I mean—what do you want me to do? I'm not going to admit to killing my father because I didn't do it! My father was a generous and kind man. Why would I kill him? It makes no sense to me. I don't gain anything out of his death. If my father isn't around anymore, I'm an orphan, his business sales plummet because I can't manage them, and crazy people like you stick me in the asylum!” she snapped at me angrily.

Something's not right here...she's not the same person, I thought to myself. I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Who are you?” I asked her. She smirked at me.

“Now that's a better way to start. I'm Regina, but the other version of me is really named Rebecca. I just go by the name Regina though when I'm like this so people can identify which is which,” she told me snootily.

“What the—“

“It's a cross between schizophrenia and multiple-personality disorder. I've got two personalities, while the other me is living in a fantasy world that her father is still alive and trying to get her healthy again,” she explained to me, as if she was talking to a dog. Do I really look that stupid to her? I thought dumbly. She smirked at me.

“You're funny. I like your expressions. The one you're giving me right now is the same as if a six-year-old was just transferred into a physics class,” she taunted. I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Exactly what do you want? As you can see, I'm a very busy person,” she said, gesturing to the room around her with a smile. I raised my eyebrow at her this time.

“Oh, I haven't always been this way. Regina took over when Rebecca lost her mind over her daddy's death. She doesn't want to believe it. I came to pass because I had to believe it,” she told me. “I mean...it's kind of hard not to accept the truth when a representative from the King's Rings association comes to tell you that your father had been killed by a random serial killer after his board meeting with all of his employees. Jackson Alberts didn't raise a child who believes only in fairy tales. I know when a man tells the truth.”

I stood up suddenly, hiding my gaze from her. Her eyes watched me with startling clarity and I turned myself towards the door.

“I have to...go...” I told her quickly. She waved me away, then her hand moved to play with a loose strand of hair.

“Suit yourself, little boy, but don't be a stranger. It gets boring here after a while. You bring a bit of color into the room, so I might let you return here,” she told me. She gave another shudder, this one less violent than before. When she opened her eyes, she was Rebecca again, trying desperately to melt into the wall out of fear. I put on a cold face which made the meek girl shrink away.

“Good day, Rebecca,” I said coldly, trying my hardest not to quake as I pushed through the pillow door, letting it slam behind me as I strode out into the cold air.