Henry

Chapter 3: 34.38

Everyone was surrounding me as I slowly began to open my eyes. I couldn't see much; it all seemed so blurry. I heard small chattering amongst the people standing above me, observing me. A couple of people with long hair, I was guessing they were females, stood next to one person I saw with short hair; I thought maybe it was Dr. Tompkins.

"Elana? Can you understand what I am saying?" I heard a slow, soft voice roll through my ears. I tried to nod my head as in to say 'yes' but I wasn't sure if I moved or not. My body felt numb and light-weighted, as if I were a bird with no wings; I could see everyone flying and working, but I didn't know why I couldn't do the same.

"You took a hard fall in the lunchroom, Ms. Fipps. We gave you candies to help you sleep and not be in so much pain. How are you feeling now?" I heard a different voice say. The voice was deeper than the first one I heard. However, I couldn't keep my eyes open long enough to see who spoke to me.

"I'm good," I heard the words roll off of my tongue. Not realizing I didn't say anything until I felt the dryness of my lips close together, I reached my hand up to feel the strange texture of they had. A few of the people surrounding me started to write on their notepads as I reached my finger inside of my mouth. Oh god. No, please no. My tongue, it's not there. My tongue is not there! I couldn't feel my tongue! These thoughts exploded in my brain, interrupting any common sense that I had.

"Oh my god, sir! My tongue! Where is my...tongue? Please, I can't...lose my tongue! How am I going to eat?" I spoke in a rapid, slurred voice. Tears filled my eyes and I nervously searched in my mouth for my tongue. They couldn't have just taken it out. Why would they take out my tongue? I heard giggles and laughter fill the room as I looked around at them confused. Are they...laughing? Why would they be laughing at something like this? This situation was not something to joke about! I felt my skin being to boil and fill up with rage.

"Sweetie your tongue is still there; it's not gone. It's just the candies we gave to you earlier. They are different than the normal ones you usually take. These candies are a lot stronger than the other ones to help you with the pain," I heard the same soft voice say. With eyes forced opened, It took a little while to get used to the bright lighting. When they adjusted to everything, I looked over and it was Sheila standing there with a smile on her face. I sighed in relief. I – for some reason – felt safer when I was around Sheila. She was nice and cared for me, I thought. She would never harm me.

"Oh," I said in a small voice. The candies started to wear off a bit and I started to feel 'normal', as normal as I could be locked up in here, again. I could understand how to form words and understand what everyone around me was talking about. Slowly, I tried to sit up and Sheila griped my arm to support me. When I reached up and rubbed my forehead, I felt a hard, scratchy surface. It felt very familiar, like déjà vu. And at that moment, everything hit me. The dream. The lunchroom. And what Dr. Tompkins said. Whatever false sense of safety Shelia gave me, was starting to slowly fade through the cracks.

I didn't think I felt safe here, anymore. Out of the few incidents that just happened, I couldn't trust these people. I mean, how could anyone? Continuing to question myself over and over, things started to seem clear. This place was not meant for me and I had to get out of here. They knew nothing about me or how to help me and I was tired of trying to believe it. Whatever happened to me in this 'operation', I knew it wasn't to fix me. They couldn't fix me. Only Henry knew what was best for me; he could fix me.

Everything was like a song on repeat in my head. I've already done this, they have already said that. Lunchroom. Dream. Dr. Tompkins. Lunchroom. Dream. Dr. Tompkins. Lunchroom. Dream. Dr. Tompkins. Repetition meant I knew what happened; I remembered and that mattered. These things were all that filled my head and no matter what I did it wouldn't stop; it wouldn't go away.