Volume VI: And Introducing Harley Morrow As - Herself

29. Operating Blind

        A side note for the reader...it’s very hard to operate when you’re on a cloud. Just so you know, as a...just in case, for future reference. Thanks.

        I wasn’t there too long when things got very bizarre very fast. I wouldn’t say interesting...but definitely something. I don’t know. The effects weren’t the same, and I can’t say if it’s because I was alone or that I’d done it myself. I don’t know. I remember vaguely hearing the door open and Serkis came in. It might have been Layne. And I remember being dragged out, laughing like a fiend the whole way. I remember parts and pieces of the sewers, our sanctuary.

                And everything after that is black. Just pure, plain, comforting black. I just nodded off and went to sleep. There was nothing more to know. Or remember.

        I woke up in a hospital. I looked around apprehensively. It was family policy to never, ever resort to a hospital unless something was extremely severe. Meaning - unless there was an issue. Unless there was the risk of death. Only then would we resort to risk, to exposure. Only then would steps be taken. And even then, it was debatable. Everything was debatable. There was nothing but white, typical, insane asylum white. Nothing else. I turned in the bed and looked around, finding nothing to comfort me. I was alone in the room, light kept out by blinds closed carefully. I thought of people bustling around busily. I thought of doctors creeping in and out as I slept. And yet, I was alone.

        The door opened quietly, a doctor came in and checked on the machines, scrawling a few random numbers on charts as he went. He didn’t say a word to me, walking out briskly. I couldn’t have asked him anything if I’d wanted to. I reclined back again, trying to focus my eyes on a specific part of the ceiling, trying to zone out. The door clicked open again and Serkis slid in, with Layne in careful tow. If the room hadn’t been so silent, and I hadn’t been so sedate, I never would have noticed. They crept in and sat down at my side. I looked over at them.

        “What happened?” I whispered, my voice shaky. They looked at the ground before coming back up to me.

        “You overdosed.”

        “That’s...”

        “Bull?” Serkis questioned, finishing my statement. I looked at her as sharply as I could. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t dispute this and they both knew it. I was here. They had all the proof they needed. Like I said, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t real.

        “I still don’t get it.”

        “You’re not supposed to.” Serkis got up, looked around quietly, and put a hand out to me. I sat up in bed. “You need to get out of here. And we’re taking you.”

        “Why the rush?” I whispered. I found that I couldn’t get out of the bed - I couldn’t get up as simply as it seemed. I felt like I was frozen, moving in slow motion. Layne bent down and scooped me up.

        “You stay here, they’ll send the shrink in. This’ a drug related case. You’re young and you have no history. You’re not the typical junkie. They’ll put you away.”

        “What evidence do they have to put me away? I’m not sick.”

        Serkis raised a brow. “You’re not?”

       And not another word was said the entire way out. Layne carried me close to his chest, wrapped up in his coat, tight, like a child. Serkis led the way, giving anyone who raised objection such a look that made them second-guess their actions for the rest of the day. She just had something to her that could scare the life out of people. I don’t know if it was an acquired talent or she was just born that way. But it was definitely something to see.