Touch Of The Past

Chapter 15

I will finish and post the co-chapter a little later today, but I want to post now because I'm bored at school.

One of these days… I’m going to call one of these white coat’s mother.

I can imagine how that conversation would go.

“Hi.”

“Hello, who is this?”

“I’m a friend of your son’s.”

“Really! How so?”

“Well, he tortures and experiments on me. So not really well. You have a real jem, ma’am.”

“...”

“Ma’am?”

“Am I on the radio?”

Alright, so even I know they wouldn’t believe me. A guy can, hope, though, can’t he?

Pain wracks through me, sweeping away coherent thought. A primal instinct comes up immediately, blocking the scream and any plea for mercy. Colors explode before my eyelids, green and red but not reminding me of Christmas at all.

At the reprieve that follows the initial shock of being hurt, I grasp for a coherent thought that will distract me.

Faces flash before my eyelids. I don’t recognize them, teal eyes, sky blue eyes, turquoise sea green ocean baby blue brown black

I shake them away. Fragments of memories come to the front of my mind, just glimpses.

“-eat! Why have you betrayed me?!”

“Psychoanalysis is not all spec-”

“-nother F? One more and I’ll have to call-”

“LOSER”

“I think I might have a-”

All different memories. No faces, no names, no distinguishable voices. Just sound.

My thoughts start pounding along with my new injury spawned from an electric wound on my temples. Electricity…

A flash of green tinted electricity flashes before my mind’s eye.

I find a thought that is complete, starting with a capital letter. Ending with punctuation.

Where does the red come from? Green and red. I’m full of green substance, leaking through wounds and reflecting in my glowing eyes. Where does the red come from?

A shatter of pain rips through me again, and my mind clears into a sudden wasteland. I’m suspended for a fraction of a second, empty, before I’m filled with only pain, and I let out a scream so loud I can’t hear it at first.

Once I start, I can’t stop, and I let out a wail for as long as I have oxygen, before it sucked back in, leaving the room in a dreadful, heavy silence. I let out a ragged breath, breaking the suspended quiet.

Nothing. No more pain, no more taunting. Silence.

It’s horrible. I’m awaiting a doom I know will happen but do not know when. I fear relishing the quiet moment of reprieve, because in just a moment it can be shattered. My eyes stay shut. I want to cry, but I refuse.

The door is opened. I slowly pry open my eyes, as curious as full of dread. A white coat, a woman. Her brunette hair is pulled up into a severe bun, her eyes warm chocolate. She’s wearing makeup to cover her age, though she’s not old. She walks with a bounce in her step, bun bobbing with every touch of the ground, a small, genuine smile.

I hate this woman.

With every bit of myself. Every part I don’t know, can’t remember, do remember. I hate her.

In short, she sucks.

Hasn’t given me a name, but I have a very distinct need to call her Evil Barbie. Not even because she’s pretty, tall and skinny. She has the permanent smile, but the eyes that reflect nothing. She’s a doll. Feels nothing when she rips you apart in your sleep.

She places a circular device with twinkling green lights on a table. She hums as she presses the center button. Grins widely at me as it whirs, twiddling her fingers as she exits the room. I regard it with terror.

But it does nothing. Just hums with electricity, blinking green lights. I feel no difference physically or mentally. I’m just… Confused.

What is the point of this device? I notice a name on the side, but it’s blocked by a piece of black electrical tape. They put it in the middle of the name, so I see a “El” and a double zero at each end.

Curiosity and confusion at the strange device that does nothing is replaced once more by the pain, shocking me to my very core.

It’s too much for me.

The delirium of too much pain, the slight fall of pain after the initial contact, and the fact that I made a pun to myself…

I burst out in hysterical laughter.