Alice Cullen's Story

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

               “Open your eyes for god sake!”

               I was slowly brought back to living – from the peaceful fatality I had come to enjoy. Life seemed so of no significance; wakefulness seemed to be a waste of dreaming time.

               Visions flashed in front of my eyes – memories from prior dealings – Sebastian’s icy stroke, his fuming crimson eyes, his plastered smile and his lies. I knew he meant me no harm by lying, though I was hurt – physically and emotionally. It had been weeks of torture – weeks of shock treatments, beatings and starvation. I wasn’t starved for food or water, no, I was starved for drugs.

               Doctor Barrett had come to notice the pleasure I took from the drugs, and for some ominous reason, he wanted me to have a medical condition. The withdraw symptoms were recognizable – cold sweats, anger fits, hallucinations…

               But Doctor Barrett couldn’t care for my comfort, he cared only for himself. He took pleasure in my suffering; I had been a bad girl as he once said. He was a psychopath, ironic as he thought me to be one.

               Nurse Rebecca shoved me off the thin mattress, leaving me sniveling in pain. I couldn’t move by myself any longer, I was too pathetic to shift a limb. The burns on my flesh had almost healed, though I knew there were more shock treatments in store for me. Doctor Barrett had a new-fangled technique of tormenting me – a method to ‘fight my demons’.

               For days he had me strapped in a chair, with some piece of equipment over my head, preventing me from shutting my eyes. The mirrored room seemed to be my home more than the dark chamber ever had. I couldn’t remember my family’s faces any longer, nor could I remember my dwelling, or anything soothing.

               The only console I had was Sebastian’s face in my secluded memory. I often wondered where he was, and why he would leave me to suffer. Did I mean so little to him? Did I dream him up? Was Sebastian only a friction of my imagination? Of course I couldn’t be certain, though he felt so existent to me. I could still feel his cold stroke against my skin, his bell like voice reverberate in my ears.

               “I need painkillers.” I whispered softly to Nurse Rebecca. I looked up into her diminutive eyes, desperation burning within mine.

               An echo of laughter erupted from her chest. She didn’t care for my hurting, or suffering. She cared nothing for the craving ache I had for the drugs. My heart thumped recklessly against my chest as I watched her express amusement at my defenselessness.

               Fury pulsed through my veins, though I had no strength to fight her. They had worn me out, to an extent where sleep was foreign.

               Tears pooled from my eyes, sending wretchedness and longing for Sebastian into my fragile heart. I missed him awfully, and yearned for his meaningless chitchat. I closed my eyes forcefully and tried to remember our time together. He had been the only ray of sunlight in my stay here at the asylum. Even when trapped in the dark chamber, his radiance shined into my spirit without endeavor.

               “Sebastian…” I whispered quietly to myself.

               Nurse Rebecca exposed a pair of scissors, smiling menacing down at me. Baffled, I stared back into her petite eyes.

               “What are you doing?” I asked, frightened for my life.

               A chuckle fled her lips, as she realized my panic. She enjoyed my disadvantage, enjoyed being in control of my emotions. Too many times had I enjoyed her fear – times when I still had use of my body.