The Innocents

Chapter Fourteen

I woke one morning with a clear mind.

I had a dreamless sleep and went through the morning routine without incident. There was a light, airy mood around the ward that I could only describe as the calm before a storm. Nobody noticed but me.

I stood and watched as everyone floated in and out of the showers and toilets and eventually into the cafeteria where breakfast was served. That morning it was apple cinnamon oatmeal, a banana and a piece of dry toast. I managed the dry toast, but gave my banana to Jo and my oatmeal disappeared courtesy of the overfilled trash-bin by the door.

I had received a Reader's Digest that day and Jo confiscated it almost immediately. The cover had a photo of a Great White Shark and I assumed the article was something along the lines of, "Shark attacks on the RISE" or "Do you know how to survive a Great White Attack?" I could do without. The ocean still frightened me. I didn't care if it was a 2D picture sharing the same page as a Chef Boyardee ad.

I was exhausted. I had slept fairly well that night, only waking once or twice and Jo kept talking to me. I tried to listen but I dozed off too many times to piece together what she was saying. She whirred and attracted Marla who asked if I wanted to write a little bit. I politely turned her down and she left to use the exercise room.

The feeling of foreboding grew worse. It was strange, like when you're awaiting bad news. I lay on my bed, my focus shifting from the bottom of Jo's mattress to Victoria who was walking past my bunk gingerly. My eyes stuck to her. It was almost as if she were radiating a big old neon sign that said, DANGER. She felt my stare and gave me a look that I could only describe as what a dog would look like when you've caught him in the toilet bowl.

"What?" she asked.

I was slow to reply. "Nothing," I said. "Sorry."

Lunch was worse. There was a tightening in my stomach, just under my belly button and a sensation of having to pee when I really didn't. They served hotdogs on buns with French fries and cola that tasted watered down to nothing. I picked at the French fries. At the table sat my posse, Marla, Jo, Fidola and myself. I could feel Jo's eyes waiting for me to offer her my meal.

"Leave her alone," Marla said, swatting at her hand that was slowly inching toward my tray. "She needs to eat just as much as you do."

"But she never does," Jo whined and then got real serious. "I'm a growing girl."

"Yea, you are. So act like it."

I wasn't paying attention. I was staring wistfully across the room where Victoria sat. Two tables down was Gladey and her minions, a collection of snide little rats jeering and throwing food. One piece of French fry hit Victoria square between her eyes. Laughter erupted. The guards put an end to it just as quickly as it sounded and for a while everything seemed to ebb. They even had cartoons playing on the televisions.

Watching Victoria's humiliation was making me ill. I suppose the smell of the hotdogs wasn't doing many wonders for my stomach either. I pushed my tray to Jo and excused myself. I headed back to the ward where I knew the bathrooms would be empty. By then, everything churned around like a hard ball in my belly. I shut myself into one of the stalls and hung my head over the seat-less bowl and just let go. I alternated flushing and retching until my throat burned and all was extinguished, even the acid deep in the pits of my stomach. Then I just sat there with the toilet between my legs and head flung back thinking that if this were happening in the real world, I'd be apt to see a doctor, even the school nurse. Here, I didn't trust the system as far as I could throw it. You wouldn't either.

I wasn't sure how long I had been in there when someone else came in followed by the footsteps of three or four more girls. One started wailing like an ambulance and the other laughed. I recognized one voice as Gladey and the others as Jessie, Yoni and Tynia. The fifth girl was unidentifiable, but I could only assume it was Victoria. I hitched my legs up and clasped a hand over the lower half of my face like they were vampires and could sense my living, breathing soul through my mouth and nostrils. My butt sank into the toilet bowl, but there was no way to adjust without making any sort of indication that somebody else was there with them. So, I let the toilet water soak my jumpsuit feeling like I had just pissed myself.

"You know, I heard you talking in your sleep last night," Gladey was saying, her pitch rising. "Daddy, please, no! What was that all about, huh?"

The door to the bathroom opened and somebody else entered. For a moment I think I'm rescued. It turned out to be another instigator and she doesn't miss a beat.

"You know what I heard, Gladey?" she said. "I heard, daddy, don't stick your fingers in me tonight. I'm on the rag. Come back in four to six days!"

There was exploding laughter. I hear the faucet turn on and then off as if they were fiddling with it. There's a moment of silence before I hear boots shuffling across the linoleum. Then, "Did you let the warden stick his fingers in you? You know that's probably the best you're going to ever do save for good old daddy." She adds, "Filthy whore."

The berating continued for at least ten more minutes and all of this time, Victoria said nothing which made things far worse for her. They even barred the door when somebody else tried to enter and after a while, when I think I may die of old age in that stall, they finally left. Filthy whore chanting like a mantra and faded behind the closing door. I thanked the stars that there wasn't any violence. I didn't know what I would have had to do then.

I lowered my legs, peering through the crack in the stall door. I saw nothing as far as I could tell. No boots. No breathing even. I wrung out my wet butt and opened the door. Victoria was still there, standing in the far corner at the very last sink. She had her hands to her chin like she was praying. There were discernible tear trails down both cheeks. Her whole body was trembling.

"Are you okay?" I asked. It seemed like a stupid question, but at the time it was all I could think of. The harsh lighting outlined the large bags under Victoria's eyes, a fad we were all sporting at one time or another. Hers were huge. Like sandbags.

"I hate myself," she said, her voice smooth and tranquil. I don't remember it sounding that way before. It was especially strange for how she was behaving, shaking like a wet puppy.

"Oh well, we all do at some point," I replied, trying to be casual about the whole thing. I ran the faucet and cupped some water into my mouth to wash away the sour taste of bile. When I was done, I dried my hands and glanced back at Victoria.

\I wondered if it were smarter to stay or just leave. I wanted to be involved in her war as much as I wanted to swallow nails.

I turned toward the door and beganwalking. For some reason, I turned back and when my eye returned to the fallen queen, her neck was spitting out blood like a water hose that had been turned onto spray mode. I didn't understand what I was seeing. I merely stood there. Even when some of it got onto my clothes and she fell into a heap on the floor convulsing like a person possessed. She made a terrible gurgling sound and finally came to a standstill with her cheek pressed up against the tile in a puddle of her own blood.

I sprang to life a little too late. I took the sleeve of my jumpsuit and held it over her neck and then took her hand to feel her pulse but all life had gone from her. I fell into a magnificent haze. I could have screamed for help, but Victoria was very much beyond help at that point. In the hand I had held was a box cutter, slick with her blood and I took it in my own. I could use it to kill Gladey. She deserved it after all. She had pushed her to do it. Probably even gave her the tool.

I was on my knees. The smell of blood grew stronger as it thickened. The haze went away and then all I could see was a girl who had just sliced her own throat open. I stood up. Something in the mirror caught my eye. Written in lipstick were the words, Abandoned by God. Horrified, I screamed at the top of my lungs and then all of the walls faded to black.