Inception

Chapter 6

In the mental institution, you had no visitors. They locked you up like a caged animal and called you dangerous. All you had was yourself and if you got locked up for having another one of you, then you had more than just yourself (it’s hard to explain). But to be honest, the room I was in was one of the nicer rooms. There were large windows, letting the light in, seeing the skyline of the city.

         Most of the time, I slept when the nurse wasn’t injecting me with serums that subdued me for half the day. But the rest of the time, I would walk over to the windows and look out to the city that also overlooked the ocean. The view made me miss everything but it showed me that I could never return to it. And that made me miss it even more.

         I pondered the thought that maybe a world without feeling wasn’t such a perfect world that everyone made it out to be. Maybe everyone felt, but knew how bad the consequences were. I was the example for the people to know that you’ll end up like me if you ever did feel. The government was intimidating, scaring people into doing what they wanted.

         I didn’t have time to think about much but when I did, the thoughts seemed like ones that I could never make out. The world did such horrible things to people, it messed some of us up. But the world is such a beautiful thing, filled with messed up people (it’s pretty terrific if you asked me).

         The doctor came into the room, the same one who had put me in the mental wing. He had the same sad, grey eyes and the glistening silver hairs. I read his name tag and it said Dr. Abrams but when he lifted his coat arm up, I noticed black smears of ink that looked like a series of numbers. And I knew the only place where you can get those.

         “Doctor Abrams?” I ask as he started to take my blood. My fingers were numb, the thick red liquid filling the bottle. They were going to run tests, making sure that every part of me wasn’t crazy. I felt like a guinea pig, feeling controlled, fenced in. It was insane. “Where did you get those?”

         “Oh these old things,” Doctor Abrams says, examining each number like it were a painting, taking in each and every detail, his sad eyes getting lost. He clears his throat as if he felt tears coming. “I-I got these when I went to the Trials Ms. Pierce.”

         I was confused; my doctor, a victor of the Trials. From where I came from, many of the teens that went didn’t come back. But the sad thing was, when you lose someone, there are so many people who will never stop living; so many people who don’t care.

         “You won?” I ask. I wanted to find out as much as I could if I was going to stay in this hell hole any longer. He looked at me firmly, his grey eyes looking right through me. “As a matter-of-fact,” he says. “I did. I won the 14th Trials when your mother was just a little girl. I remember her. Terra,” he says, my mother’s name like it was painful.

         “That’s amazing,” I admiring the inscription, the one that has such a big meaning. Seven small numbers with a big story, one that every victor tries to keep. “Oh that was a long time ago,” Doctor Abrams says, feeling a little flustered, his white skin turning the slightest shade of pink.

         “All the other victors have died Ms. Pierce,” he says, injecting my arm, drawing the blood again into a tube. “But I hear the ceremony will be taking place on your birthday.”

         I nod, my heart pounding out of my chest for no reason, just a feeling of tenseness. The time was running out, it’s like an hourglass, the sand falling each passing second. And I, was sitting at the bottom of it, the sand burying me telling me I’m too late.

         “All done,” he says, curling the corner of his lip, his sign of a smile and a sad one at that. “Hopefully the tests come back and you could be discharged.” Doctor Abrams walked out the door, taking practically my fate with him. I wanted to go back to that day, to just do one thing differently. Maybe if I did, maybe if I was just a few minutes earlier, maybe all of this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe I wouldn’t be a wave of emotions, maybe I wouldn’t be locked up, and maybe I could’ve changed everything that has happened.