A/04 - The Beginning

A/04 - Two (2)

The bright white light attacks my vision when I wake. I’m in a room. At the moment I’m sitting at the left side of it, in a white bed with white sheets and a white pillow. The first thing I notice isthat everything is white; the small sink opposite me, the desk to my right, the chair accompanying it, the floor, the ceiling, and the lights. The lights are blinding, and now I’m struggling to see –to define the objects around me in this strange room. I lift myself up and notice I am also wearing white: A loose shirt and loose white pants fitted at my hips. There are no medical supplies in the room, but if I lift my sleeve will I find the swelling from an earlier needle? I pull up my sleeves and sure enough there is one there. I push the covers off and step on to the floor ready to search around when I suddenly notice how cold it is. A bitter cold, too, though these clothes despite their measly material keep my body at the perfect temperature. I run the fabric between my two fingers, puzzled. Definitely not silk, but not cotton either. I slip the covers off and make my way to the borders of the room.

I run my hands along to walls to find some sort of opening, desperate to escape this weird room. I also run my hands along the desk and the table, pulling, scratching, and hitting everything and anything that could give me a clue as to where the hell an opening is. I remember watching movies as a child and seeing the investigators push stone busts placed on desks back and seeing a door slide open from behind a bookshelf or somewhere close-by. Unfortunately here there is no stone bust, or bookshelf. Just a desk and a chair and a bed, with some plain white shoes placed carefully at the end of it, as well as a sink. I eventually find a dent at the front of the room though, and push it. A small rectangle of white slides across to reveal another rectangle - but this time, made of glass. I peer through it only to quickly jolt back.

Eyes. More specifically, black eyes. I pant and stare back in to them, dumbfounded about what I’ve come across. I scramble quickly to the opposite side of the room as they disappear. I sigh in relief and my shoulders slump, relaxing along with the rest of my body. I begin to stare at the rectangle of glass again before shortly it opens, revealing a man clad in all black to match his menacing eyes. He stands there for a moment, judging the person before him. Me.

He is tall, very tall, and his ebony hair just falls in to his eyes. The man only looks around 20-21, yet there is something that makes him seem older. His skin is without wrinkle but doesn’t look surgically enhanced, making him seem kind of natural, though I’m not sure. His lips are not plump but not thin, and his strong cheekbones give him a fierce appearance. He looks Italian, almost. A slim but strong build tells me the man often exercises, and his aura oozes authority.

He stands straight in his tailored business suit. I freeze, not sure of what to make of this stranger. The man slowly taps a small set of pages he holds within his long bony fingers, his eyes flicking to them quickly before once again fixating them on me. His bored expression tells me a situation like this is nothing new to him. He walks swiftly to the chair and sits down, before speaking only moments after.

“If you would please sit down on the bed, Ms. Hardwick,” he softly says. It is unthreatening yet a sure demand, and I am in no position to object with no weapons to defend myself. I make my way towards the bed and sit down, fidgeting with the corner of my shirt as he begins to explain who he is and the current situation.

“My name is Doctor Solomon and I will be your guardian for the fourth quarter,” he begins, finally resting his anxious fingers on the top of the papers. I look at them. I can’t quite place his accent.

“You will be explained to of that when you are asked to go to the dining hall with all of the other patients. What I was going to say is that I will be visiting you twice a day from now on until the end of your quarter. You will be assessed on your mental capability and behaviour, and once you have completed the course, we will release you,” he pauses, as I hang on to every word he says, “You will have an hour and a half each day to spend with other patients in a set room, and of course breakfast as well as dinner will be served each and every morning as well as night at precisely the same time. The schedule is the same every day. Do not attempt to escape or you will be shot,” he finishes, turning his head to the door. A schedule has appeared on the right hand side of it, inscribed with my name along with a numeral on the end of it. In plain bold writing reads:

Hardwick07: Schedule:

Wake up: 0800

Breakfast: 0830

Intervention: 0945

Lunch: 1200

Social Activities: 1300

Intervention: 1530

Dinner: 1800

Curfew: 2145

I stare at it blankly. Is this really happening? I turn my head slowly back to the man, my pupils dilated and mouth agape. Where am I? The man continues;

“I understand that you must be greatly confused at the moment, but all of your questions will be explained later today in the grand hall. At that time, you will be escorted by one of the guards along with the other patients towards the hall. Please do not be afraid, you are in good hands,” and with that, he unfolds his legs and disappears out of the door. After a few minutes of processing what I’ve just heard, I push myself off of the bed and peer through the clear glass rectangle after him. Outside is a dull grey, with guards standing in all white who remind me of the soldiers named storm troopers from a movie I saw when I was younger, but they lack the helmets. They are positioning themselves outside what looks to be numerous doors situated directly opposite each other. I cram my neck up higher to get a better view of the hall. I stare nervously in to the door opposite me, but to no avail find a blank white wall returning the gaze. I sigh, and slide down the wall to a fetal position.

Help.