B l a n k

Chapter 2

“Ung...” I groaned, curled up in the corner of the padded room. Now that my questioning thoughts had been satisfied and quieted, I was noticing the screams of other crazed patients around me. I wondered if I would end up like that, too. I would spend a few days here and finally go completely insane just like those others...

Until then, let’s focus on the present, shall we? I was bored out of my mind, and I had been here alone for nearly six hours, or so I assumed. I mean, come on; they could at least have a clock that i could look at through the window in the door!

The (most likely) four hours before I was left alone, however, were filled with activity.

First, I met another member of my four-person personal staff.

Luka Morozov.

A wonderful girl with brown waves of hair and eyes the color of my own, so she told me later on, pale green with grey flashing through.

From what I had learned, she was Russian and nineteen years old, having recently passed a psychiatric nursing exam to get a job here.  My time with her was very memorable, because she was the one that told me about myself, and she seemed to be more, well, nice and understanding than Stephen. Actually, Stephen didn’t seem to give a crap about me, so Luka was a big step up.

She had come in while I was sleeping, and gently woke me up.

Well, that didn’t go well. She had surprised me so I... uh... ended up kicking her in the face as I woke up.

Bloody nose aside, she introduced herself, and then sent me a few compliments, including one about my hair, (which I hadn’t paid attention to enough to even look at it, and I still haven’t, mind you) before letting me ask any questions I wanted to as we calmly sat indian-style by the door.

Well, naturally I started with “How old am I?” and several other basic questions. I didn’t really ask who I was, because I didn’t want to follow after an outline and build my personality around it. I wanted to see what would happen when I went with instinct.

She answered the age question easily with “14” and the rest of the questions were a breeze, as she had a folder containing information on me. However, when I brought up the whole “Why am I here?” idea, she managed to maneuver her way around answering when a male voice called her out of the room.

Well, there goes the idea to learn why the heck I’m in a padded cell.

Then, a few minutes after Luka left, yet another woman, this time I’d assume at least thirty years old, entered. I already knew I wouldn’t like her as soon as I saw her lip raise in disgust.

I mean, I see where she’s coming from. I haven’t showered in two days, plus however long it took them to get me here and the time I took to wake up in here. My hair was a mess and felt itchy all of the time, my white hospital outfit was wrinkled and probably smelled awful. Why? Well, I couldn’t change but once every week they said, as there weren’t enough pairs of clean clothes, and let’s just say there was more than one instance where they wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom.

I felt disgusting, I’ll admit it, but this woman was really rude. She could at least show a bit of pity for me!

Anyways, like I said, her first greeting to me was the whole twitchy-lip thing, and my annoyance with her increased, “Ugh, how awful. Just like the rest.”

Yeah, because you’re doing this to me!

“My name is Myra, and I’ll be another part of your staff,” she sighed, though I was certain that it wasn’t from relief. Her dusty blond hair was tied into a tiny, tight bun, and her features were littered with small wrinkles, though her skin seemed to be pinned back by invisible tacks at the back of her face, making said wrinkles, well, considerably less noticeable. Right then, she didn’t seem so bad, but what she did next, made me hate her with a burning passion. Sure, it was her job, but she could’ve been nicer. Another step down off the good-staff-ladder.

I saw her remove a tiny bottle from a pocket in her white(I’ve come to really freaking hate that color) uniform jacket. The bottle was the standard transparent orange color of a medicine bottle. At first, I was leery, but when she pulled out two more, I backed away, removing my legs from their locked-together state and standing, ready to fight this woman if she tried to shove those things down my throat.

Her eyes flashed, though I wasn’t sure if it was from frustration at my reaction or amusement. Whichever it was, she just stepped towards me, removing one tablet and two pills.

I backed up, two steps for her one, but soon I hit a wall. I felt like trapped prey, and I shivered at the thought of being force-fed those things. Was it just my nervous state, or were those things the size of horse-pills? I really wasn’t sure, but I sunk down against the wall anyways, trying to shrink away from her.

Naturally she advanced, and when she got to about one foot away, time seemed to go into slow-motion.

Now, I’ll try to remember everything for you, but no promises.

I kicked one leg out, knocking my bare foot into the side of her knee. Both of her knees buckled, and once she was on the ground, I planted myself on top of her, though it hurt more than I had hoped, since I couldn’t catch myself with my arms.

The pills were already on the padded ground, which gave her another free hand when it came to flipping over on top of me and pinning my shoulders.

That led to me screaming and kicking, as well as slamming my forehead into her face a couple times. I felt warm blood sprouting from her nose, like it has for Luka, but I honestly didn’t care for Myra.

Myra called a few names that I didn’t bother listening to, and soon two men rushed into the room, one pinning my legs and the other pinning my head down with a gloved hand.

What came next made me struggle even more frantically. I saw him holding a syringe with a tiny, shining needle attached. I really couldn’t do much else once he had pushed the needle into my tense upper-arm (that doesn’t end well, by the way, when you're really stiff and getting an injection). Three feelings pushed their way to my brain right then: pressure, pain, and burning, and a few seconds later I could no longer resist as my vision went black.

So... yeah. That was my day. Well, after I regained consciousness there was that random doctor who brought me my pills again, but I didn’t decline that time.

So now, all I wanted was to have more stimulation, but I had no one there, so the most I could do was roll around to suppress my boredom.

Then, an idea struck me when I saw the shining surface of what looked like a mirror through the little, square window in the door. It was very dark in the hall, but I could see it.

I stood up, and made my way to the opening, which was eye level with me. Looking out, I realized there was a mirror. It obviously hadn’t been cleaned off in a while, but luckily, I could still see myself. My hair surprised me a bit: a solid, shining black with beautiful dark blue streaks falling through. It was messy, as to be expected from being in here so long, but it was easy to see that each strand was intended to be straight. To be honest, I think it was kind of pretty, and when I looked even closer, I realized that my eyes were exactly as Luka had said: green and grey. My skin however was so pale that it was almost flush with the walls around me.

Note to self: Whenever the chance is available, go outside and get some sun.

I sighed and rested my forehead against the cold bars running vertically through the window. A tear slipped down my face, and for some reason, after seeing myself, I realized what I was. A prisoner. More tears slipped down, and I heard the quiet sound of drop after drop hitting the fabric below my cold, bare feet. I shivered and sunk down, allowing full sobs to escape my mouth.

A prisoner. Just a being, trapped without anywhere to go.

I think I cried for a solid ten minutes before I heard it: a soft whisper, a phrase, that echoed through the room.

“It seems like it, huh?”