Captive

Chapter 35

Bridget Dunn woke up in her cell as the lights came on her room, just as they had every morning for the past several months. By her calculation, it was Monday, and that meant she would have to see Dr. Spencer Asshole Lewis for their now-weekly conversation sessions. There was not much conversation to be had since he revealed his true identity to her. Sometimes, the lack of dialogue would frustrate Doctor Spencer, and he would unleash his "boys" on her, but even that had become ineffective. Bridget had reached the point in her therapy where her typical triggers were useless. The monsters would chase her around, and she would kick and thrash at them if they came too close. At one point, she landed an open palm on a villain's face, which caused his mask to fall to the ground. The now visible features of the man revealed a guard whom Bridget recognized. She laughed hysterically and proceeded to attack the other assailant in an attempt to figure out who he was. She failed miserably and had to be sedated and dragged back to her room.

A rattling cart slid down the hall outside her chambers, which meant that it was close to 8:30 in the morning, or breakfast time. Bridget chucked off her covers and climbed out of bed. She stretched and cracked her neck as the food slot opened, and a covered tray came through the hole. She walked to open hole, knelt, and inevitably sat beside the tray in order to assess her plate. It was another ham and cheese omelet made from liquid eggs paired with a cup of pre-mixed powdered milk. She also had an orange and a small cup of apple juice. The utensils were plastic—just like every other set of utensils with which she ate her meals, and her napkin was made from a low-end, recycled material that always proved useless when it came to wiping up spills. Nevertheless, she cut into her omelet and took a bite.

"Can I have some salt?" Bridget asked through the open slot.

"We go through this every morning, Bridget," Matthews replied. "The answer is no."

She rolled her eyes, "Do you know how hard it is to eat this shit every day with no seasoning to help it taste better?"

"And yet, you somehow manage. You have fifteen minutes." He sounded serious.

"What's up your ass today?"

"Just eat your breakfast, Dunn." She shoveled and chewed several more pieces and drank the apple juice.

"Are you going to be a dick today?" she asked after a while.

"That depends. Are you going to shut up and eat?"

"What's been with you lately, huh? You've been acting like a jackass for several weeks now."

"Ten minutes, Bridget."

"Okay. Okay." The prisoner ate the rest of her breakfast in forced silence. Her friendship with Matthews—if it could be called that—had been strained as of late. She had no idea why he went from one extreme to another so quickly, but she figured it might have something to do with Doctor Spencer. If the cameras in the facility really worked, and if Spencer could really see and hear everything that happened in the place, then he had to know that Matthews was a little too cordial with her. Furthermore, knowing Nathan Jones and how jealousy got the best of him, he probably reprimanded or threatened the guard. If it were the case, then Matthews would have to put up a front. Bridget secretly hoped that it was merely a front designed to keep him employed and to keep her safe. When she finished her meal, she slid the empty tray through the slot and begrudgingly said, "So, what's the good doctor have planned for me today?"

"You'll have your standard shower and bathroom time before you'll meet with him. He wrote 'surprise' on your schedule today, so I really have no idea what he has planned," Matthews replied.

"Will you be outside the door for this surprise?"

His answer was softer. "Aren't I always?" A buzzer sounded, and the guard entered the room. "It's time to go downstairs for your shower."