Veronica Topple and the Machine of Deluded Dreams

Chapter 3 - Delirium and Pain

Freedom is something that we all take for granted. It is not missed or valued until it is taken away. My right to chose my own destiny, to control my future, were taken away from me at the facility. Perhaps a greater violation than the cutting of my hair and the removal of my cloths that defined my outward appearance. And yet, I would have gladly given up my freedom if it meant I could have my hair back and the clothes that helped define who I was.

***

"Vincent, it's time to get up," a voice said from nearby.

Veronica heard the voice, but paid it no heed. She had been dreaming about her father and they had fought. It was a disturbing dream and she was glad that it was just that and she was warm and safe in her bed.

"Vincent, get up, it's time for school," The voice said, this time louder and more insistent.

"Wait, was that mum yelling?" she thought. It can't be, mum hadn't called her Vincent in years.

The doona was ripped off and cold air rushed in against her skin and she felt the cold of a winters morning. She lay there a little longer before opening her eyes, blinking back the sleep that had gathered overnight. The first thing she noticed was the difference of her bed, her side table was made of plain pine wood rather than the pink laminate she remembered. Had her mother changed the furniture without her noticing? A bigger shock came when she sat up. Gone were her posters and her pink dresser, in their place was a wooden chest of drawers and pictures of cars and the Essendon football team. This was not her room.

Standing up, she quickly noticed that her pyjamas were masculine in cut and to her horror, her hair was gone. With rising panic, she raced to the bathroom to look at her face in the mirror and began to cry at what she saw. "No, this can't be real," she said to herself.

She raced to the kitchen where her mother was busy making toast and stood there stunned. "What's got you all upset?" Tracy asked.

"What happened to my hair?" she asked.

"Your hair?" Tracy shrugged, not sure what she was talking about.

"My long hair, its been cut," she replied.

"Long hair?" Tracy said, looking surprised by the question. "Your hair has always been short."

"No, it hasn't, and you know that. I had long hair yesterday and today its all gone. And what happened to my clothes? What's going on here?" she asked.

"Are you trying to be funny with me Vincent?" Tracy asked.

"That's not my name," Veronica replied.

Tracy put down her toast and looked at her with a serious expression. "I don't know what game you think you are playing this morning mister, but if you don't get moving now you will be late for school," Tracy said.

Veronica stood dumbfounded, unable to believe that her mother would say such a thing to her. Something was horribly wrong and she needed to find out what it was.

"Look, I know that the past year has been tough, moving back in with your father and all, but its for the best, you'll see," Tracy said.

"Her father. Was her dad part of this night mare too?", she thought.

"You're not my mother," she said. In her mind, a voice was screaming that this was not right. That it was some kind of trick created by her father.

"Don't be silly dear. Now go and get dressed. The limousine is waiting to drop you off at school," Tracy said, before walking out of the kitchen and heading towards the bathroom.