The Memoriam Files: Hearts ✔

| Chapter 3, The white room

| I'm tired of trying to find a reason why

| Song: Cry, Jason Walker

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Dawn's P.O.V.

Waking up, I immediately knew something was wrong. My body lying in a twisted position, making my leg ache. Slowly I blinked and sat up straight. A shock went through my stomach. Panic washed over me as I scanned the room.
I was all alone in a completely white room. The roof, the walls, the floor, the toilet and shower in the corner even the bed I was lying on. Everything was white.

I jumped up, desperately trying to find the door, but it was nowhere to be found. I felt my chest tighten. This wasn't happening, no way. Wicked wasn't doing this to me again.
Blinded in my panic I ran to the wall and started hitting it with my fist. 'Hey! Let me out!' I screamed. 'Help! Let me go!' I started kicking the wall even though in the back of my mind I knew it wouldn't do anything but I couldn't help myself.
I didn't want to think about it. About the possibility that we had walked right into yet another trap of Wicked. Finally I gave up and sank down against the wall. My hands bruised and my feet aching.
I curled into a little ball, my panic taking away every rational thought. A sob came up in my chest and I bit my lip to hold back. I tried to recall what happened aboard the Berg. We had showered, eaten and eventually we all fell asleep. They must have brought me here when I slept.
My mind just couldn't wrap itself about the whole situation.

After what felt like hours I ordered myself to stand up. Sitting here wasn't going to solve anything.
I took another look around the room. It was a perfect rectangle with on my left hand a bed and on my right a shower and a toilet. That was all.
Then I noticed I was wearing white clothes as well. A simple white hospital dress. My hair was still wet from the shower I took on the Berg so much time couldn't have passed.
Taking a deep breath I decided to let it go for now and went to sit on the bed, waiting for something to happen. Seconds became minutes and minutes became hours.
I lost complete track of time as I waited in the white room, when suddenly a square opened in the wall on my right. A plate with food and a glass filled with water was pushed through it then closed again.
I stared at the food. The smell filled the room and my stomach grumbled. Yet I didn't move. A part of me told me to stand up and eat but another part of me put every sense on high alert. The food could be poisoned, or there could be some kind of sleeping drug in it. And I wanted to stay awake. After a few minutes I stood up and decided to do some exercises. I ran in circles and stretched my numb legs and arms. After that I took a shower. Of course the towel was white as well.

When I was finished I was sat on the bed again, staring at the food. My stomach was aching from hunger and yet I didn't dare to take a single bite. An hour passed which I spent debating whether I was going to eat or not. Finally my stomach won from my brain and I attacked the food. When nothing happened I decided it was safe and drank the water as well.

This pattern kept repeating itself for days, at least it felt like days. I slept, worked out, showered and ate. It was slowly driving me insane.
And on top of the whole strange situation came my worries for the others. Had Wicked put them in white rooms as well? Were they also losing their minds? The questions were slowly eating me alive.
I wanted nothing more than to escape this room, this never ending circle and find the others. But it didn't seem like my wish was going to come true anytime soon.

All these thoughts raged through me as I stared at the ceiling, trying to get some sleep. If my instincts were right this was the twentieth day of my imprisonment.
I had created a game to stop myself from going crazy. If I had finished my exercises I would pace through the room and everytime I reached the wall I would say a sentence, out loud.
I would usually list a few facts about myself. Just to prove I wasn't going crazy.

'My name is Dawn.' 'Ratman is my father, Lisa is my sister, my mother is dead.' 'I escaped the Maze.' 'I survived the Scorch.' 'My friends are alive.'

That last sentence was mostly to reassure myself. Wicked needed Subjects and they had the strongest, those who survived. So why would they kill them? You never knew with Wicked but this is what I kept telling myself. I needed to believe it or else everything I ever fought for would be a lie. And that was something I could never live with.
I took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling, drowning in my never ending thoughts. My body was so tired but my mind was wide awake.
I was scared to be haunted by my usual nightmares. Too many nights I saw Newt jumping of a wall, landing in a puddle of blood. Blood that turned into an ocean and wiped Lisa, Minho and Thomas away. And I was stuck with my feet, never able to help them. I turned on my side, folding my hands under my pillow. A tear crawled down my cheek. Impatient I wiped it away. There were cameras in this room, I discovered them a few days ago. And I would not give Wicked the satisfaction of knowing they had broken me.
With that thought echoeing through my mind I finally fell in a restless sleep.

'My name is Dawn.' 'Ratman is my father, Lisa is my sister, my mother is dead.' 'I escaped the Maze.' 'I survived the Scorch.' 'My friends-'

I stopped walking and took a shaky breath. The mere thought of Newt, Minho, Thomas and Lisa hurt. The fact that I didn't know what had happened to them, where they were or if they were even alive...it was too much. All too much.

Sitting down against the wall I tried to calm myself down but couldn't. I had kept my emotions in for too long.
All my doubt, fears and questions were suddenly too much.
'My friends,' I whispered, biting my lip, 'they're alive.'
A tear fell down, soon followed by more. I made no effort to try and stop myself from crying.
'They're alive,' I repeated, my voice shaking.
Pulling up my knees against my chest I finally cried. Wicked had done it again. I was broken.

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Awh no my poor baby. She deserves so much better. I feel horrible for writing this.

Please leave your thoughts about this chapter in the comments. And vote! No one likes ghost readers. ;)

It still feels unreal to me that I'm actually writing the last book of this trilogy. I'm kinda sad it's ending and so I've been playing with the thought of writing a fourth book, set in the Fever Code. Would you guys be interested? Let me know!

xXx

UYM