Reality

Chapter 4

A chill runs down my spine and yet I'm not cold, my stomach turns and pinches in hunger but I have no appetite. I'm hurting and it's all I know. I murdered my father. I ruined my family. I forced away my mother's love. I lied to my best friend.

At least, that's what Price reminds me through the cracks in the walls of my room. All interrogation's were stopped due to my silence. No matter the pain in high pitched alarms or electroshock, I refused to answer any further questions. It took Price awhile to come to terms with it, but when he did I no longer had to stare at myself killing my father.

Though there's something about that room I miss. I guess it's the last memory before my life had completely fallen apart. A place where there was the smallest gleam of hope of being free. Going back meant they still had unanswered questions, where they weren't sure whether or not they've got the right person. But now, it's confirmed. They have who they want, they need no further proof.

Exhaustion danced through my eyes, each blink dragged longer and longer. After Mount had left my chest twisted tight and hasn't let go since. I sat in that metal chair for what felt like hours unable to breathe. I was carried out like a ragdoll back to my room and tossed onto the floor like I was nothing but skin and bones. I'm just a criminal to them, a murderer in their eyes. Ever since that day, I've felt so numb. Locked inside my head, trapped in the closing walls of this prison. I've begun to think, maybe I do deserve this. Each day passed, I didn't move much. There's no point. No routines except for the nurses visits. No more tests, no more interrogations.

I stared blankly across the room at the place where the wall meets the floor. And everyday Seraphina didn't fail to feed me the pill and help me swallow it. I felt her sit delicately at the end of the bed. The tray in her hands, she scoots over to me and asks me to sit up. I refuse, I'd rather rot here and die. She brings the pill to my mouth and forces it between my lips. Opening my mouth she pours the water. It spills down my cheek and onto my pillow. She's quick to grab a handkerchief and wipe it up. She turns my head so I'm looking at the ceiling, she sits and waits till I swallow. Majority of the time she'll talk and tell stories, wait an hour till I give in. When I do she hums, I can see that she's smiling down at me. "Everything will get better. You're scheduled for another visit, don't worry. They're friends." She coos standing up and leaving without another sound.

The only sound that draws me back into reality was the buzzer in which signals the opening of her door. The sounds of boots come stomping over and without hesitation a man in white scrubs grabs my arm and pulls me to sit up. I fall limp against his grasp until he has to pick me up from under her legs. He scoops her up carefully, the touch foreign amongst the soldiers here. My head rests against his chest as he steps out of the room into the hallway. A solider waits just outside to follow us down the vast hallway, everything along the way identical from the previous. Nothing new there. It's in the opposite direction as the interrogation room.

We enter a tiled room, the new look of double doors was surprisingly nice. What's even more surprising is the sudden warmth that blanketed over me once we stop at the middle of the room. Ahead of us were three women, occupied with folding towels. They were identical scrubs in different shades of pink. Along the wall are shelves of essentials, neutral bottles, hung clothes on hooks. One of the women turns around to take a peak, she hangs a robe quickly and turns around, "This is the Copeland girl?" The other responds, her back turned to me. "Yeah, Seraphina's been looking after the poor thing."

"Poor thing? She's a murderer." The third woman whispered, but failed to keep her voice from echoing. A silence followed before the towels were set down and baskets were emptied. "Bring her, please." He walks me over to the bench next to them and sits me down. He leans my back against the barred window. I haven't seen a single window, when I do the glass is fogged. "We'll handle it from here." The taller of the three says watching the man carefully. "Thank you." She's quick to usher the man out of the room.