Catharsis [Novel]

Chapter Twenty

PART TWO

-ACCEPTANCE -

CHAPTER TWENTY

            It's been over a day since I've holed myself up in what I'm assuming was at one time a clothing warehouse on the city's South side.  I can smell the sharp sting of chemicals in the air that would have been used to clean the fabric.  It's pungent, but at least it seems to be the worst of the assaults on my senses I’ve experienced since finding this place.

            The warehouse premises were chained up, and all the doors on the main floor were locked.  It doesn't appear many people have been through here in the years since the company left town.  In a city as large as ours, this was the best solution I could come up with to keep me and my new appetite away from other people.  And that is what I want right now.  Distance.  I'm scared.  Both for who I thought I was and for whatever I'm becoming.  And also for other people if I get too close to them.  I'm still in shock over the fact that I tried to eat the last person who breached my personal space.

            I've gone over the scene in Nurse Pritchett's office in my head as many times as I can.  Nothing changes, and I can't make sense of it.  Why would I do that?  Why would I want to do that?  What's wrong with me?

            It's been over thirty-six hours since I slept, and that isn't by choice.  I found a pile of old clothes in a closet and curled up on them late last night to try and relax, but I couldn't.  My senses wouldn't let me.  Eventually, I was able to cut down light and sound by wrapping the sleeves of a dress around my eyes.  To compensate for my body’s loss of those two senses, though, my ability to taste and smell the air only got stronger (Air I can apparently now taste.  Food?  Not so much.  Lucky me.).  I wrapped the hem of the dress around my nose and mouth to filter the air, but that only made it hard to breathe and distracted me more.

            Moving my setup into a remote closet in a far corner of the warehouse helped cut down on the sensory distractions, but it only bought me short stints of sleep.  Any insects crawling around or rats scurrying by - even if they were on the other side of the building floor at times - would startle me and ruin my reprieve.

            Thinking about the situation, I realized what I needed was some kind of container that I could get into that would block out all light and sound and smells.  Like a sensory deprivation tank (I'd read about one once in science class.  You float in water and can't see or hear anything.  It's supposed to be relaxing, but at the time I read about it it just seemed weird.  Now?  That's a different story.).  But I don't have one of those.  Plus water wouldn't be good to sleep in.  I need a tank that opens and closes easily and has a pillow and bed in it.  I daydream about that while wrapped in the old dress, and then it hits me what type of sleeping device I've just imagined.  I shudder and part of me wants to cry, but I don't have the energy for it.

            What I’ve been describing is a coffin.

            With that thought, I give up on sleep and concentrate on my next pressing issue: food.  I've been scared to even think about sustenance since realizing what my stomach was lusting after.  Eating a person is out of the question, though (Who in their right mind ever thinks they will have to say that phrase?  Seriously.). 

            Leaving the building to search for real food has crossed my mind, but something tells me that it would be useless.  Eating breakfast yesterday morning (Or was it a year ago?) barely dented my ravenous belly's siren call.  I know what I need to consume, but I don't want to accept it.