Our Contract of Distrust

-- 20 --

He leads me by the wrist. Up a grass covered hill. We just keep walking and walking.

I know I should ask where we're going. But I just follow. Up and up and up the hill.

Suddenly we're inside. A stranger's house that feels familiar. A cup of tea is pushed towards me. I stare at the tendrils of steam. Those streaks of grey. They grow stronger, thicker. Until it's hard to breathe.

The room is filled with smoke. I can't see. Can't breathe. I know it stings my eyes. Yet I feel nothing. I'm coughing and spluttering, groping along the floor. I know I am. And yet I'm not me.

"Nadia." He says to me, although he never opens his mouth.
He leads me by the wrist again. Down the smoke-filled corridor. On and on and on.

We enter a room and I sit. It must be cold. It looks cold. Am I cold?

He's standing right in front of me. "Just do as I say, okay?"

I don't agree. But I also don't refuse.

I realise my feet are bound.

I'm on an a surgical stretcher.

"It's okay."

I know he's lying.

Something pricks my arm. I know it must hurt.

There's a drip in my arm. I watch the liquid blub blub blub into my vein. I know that can make people faint, but I just keep watching.

"Nadia. Do you understand?"

A voice echoes from somewhere else. "Do you think she can hear us?"

Now there's blood. Coming out from my vein, blub blub blub into the tube. Maybe it was this one that makes people faint.

"Miss Winters" Someone touches my shoulder.

There's another prick in my arm. The drip is gone.

"Okay?" He says.

He pushes the black object into my palm. It feels familiar, as if from another dream.

Right. In that other dream someone died.

"Are you ready?"

How many times have I pulled the trigger now?

My finger twitches, but the gun is gone. I'm strapped down. Being wheeled off down a smoky corridor.

Peggy is crying in one of the rooms.

We pass another, as if in slow motion.

"I really think she doesn't remember. No sir. I understand. I'll take care of it."

They shove the doors open with my stretcher. The room is damp, and everything in greyscale.

Feodor stands in the doorway and motions something to the white coats.

They unstrap me and roll my limp body off into the pile of others. I bump against cool flesh, all discoloured and exposed.

I need to get up, before I end up like them.

He stares straight at me. "I asked you Nadia. You said yes."

Then the doors slam shut and grey limbs begin to tangle around me.

I jolt awake, swatting the blankets away from me and stumbling out of bed.

I retreat to lean against a wall and attempt to even out my breathing.

I've been a fool.

I need to be quiet.

I glance at the figure which had been lying right beside me.

I never should have let my guard down. Ever.

Not for a single moment.