Ingenious

Chapter Twenty Six

 As they bring Kacey in I grin ear to ear. I study her carefully, scoping out how she's feeling and how she's doing in general. She looks weaker than normal, she stumbles as she is pushed in and her wrists look more damaged than mine. I can see her trying to stand tall, but crippling under the weight of her own thoughts. She's hunched over as she leans against the wall and it takes a moment for her to see me. When she does a painful smile spreads across her face. Her brown hair is in a singular braid down her back but the ends are fraying and I wonder how many days it's been since she has redone it. Her hospital gown looks worse than mine, blood sprayed across it, a tiny rip at the bottom that she turned into a hair elastic. That's smart of her. Maybe I'll try it when they bring us back. Soon after they bring Kacey in, Maia is brought into another room. She looks even worse off than the two of us. She's a small person in general but now her bones look as if they are going to collapse with her every movement. Her hair isn't in braids like ours and it's a complete mess. The dark brown locks are frayed all over and sticking out unevenly. Her pale blue eyes have this haunted yet scared look as she glances around frantically. As she meets my gaze I see a moment of relief, but the person sitting there is nothing like the Maia I knew a couple weeks ago. She is raged and jumpy and nothing like the quiet, calm girl who thinks theoretically through everything. I wonder for a moment what I look like to them. Do I look pale and scrawny like Maia, do I have a haunted look in my eyes? After all, I have been hallucinating. Ryan is the next one shoved into the little glass boxes and I feel a surge of happiness to see him. Then I feel self conscious about how I look right now. I hate that he's seeing me in this state. I'm so weak and fragile but I guess we all are. Ryan looks more put together than Maia, that's for sure. His hair is ruffled but it kind of looks cute. He has stubble on his face and it's kind of cute. For a minute I wonder if he's been working out because his shoulders look bigger than they were a bit ago. I guess working out could've been a good way to pass time. Yet when his eyes meet mine I can see the fear and psychotic feeling inside of him. While he may not appear it, he looks like he's going crazy. He is counting his fingers and cracking parts of his body every minute. He's going crazy here. We all are. Next they bring Shawn in. He also appears that he's been working out and he has scruffle on his face. But his hair is growing out and it's uneven and messy. Even with all this muscle he has this defeated look about him. I guess it's a pattern. When they bring Everett in he pretty much fits the pattern but he's even scrawnier than normal. He is probably as tiny as me if not tinier.

"I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here." the head doctor starts going into the final glass box available. That one connects to the main hallway that we were brought into this place through only 2 weeks ago. It feels like it's been an eternity. "Well we had someone contact us about coming to see you and we couldn't turn down the request." Request? Who in the world would be coming to see us right now? Maia's dad maybe... but would he really want to come to a place like this. Especially to see his own daughter in a state like this. Maybe he is taking us out of here and moving us back to our underground home. "Show your utmost respect and punishment will be intensified for any bad behavior. Sir..." My jaw drops as does everyone else's. This is probably the last person I expected to show up here. Yet standing in front of me is the President of the United States. The last time I saw him he was frozen in a state inflicted by us so we could go through the files. "This is them Mr. President Sir." The doctor repeats when President Jameson doesn't respond. Instead he stares us down. I don't realize it at first because he starts at Everett and makes his way down. I'm at the end so I'm confused until he meets my gaze. His eyes are a dark brown. A dark brown that looks so empty and bottomless. Eyes that hold a thousand secrest and a thousand torturous, inhumane memories. He meets my gaze and stares me down waiting for me to cower. Even though I feel so weak and ready to break down, I won't give him the satisfaction. So I stare right back into the deep brown eyes and act as if they don't scare me in any way. After what feels like tens of minutes he looks away giving me the satisfaction of winning such a tiny battle. His hair that used to be a dark brown is greying making it a salt and pepper colour. If I had to guess he's probably in his late 40s or early 50s.