I KNOW I KNOW I hav'nt written in ages. Well, shut up. Cause I'm writing now. This is a short story I did at 11 at night. So, no...it's not good. I warn you though. Your most likely gunna hate this story. Is one of those Stories' that leave you guessing. And for like the next week you have possibilities ticking over in your mind non stop.
So, enjoy. :)
How long has it been? Three years? Four?
I look to my cell mate. Jonathan.
His eyes have grown a deeper brown since we first met. His face has become tired, and weary. There are puffy bags which sit uncomfortably on the sockets of his eyes. And his features have become noticeably defined. His nose sharper, his lips definite, and his jaw set. Despite the years of abuse, he is still devilishly handsome. Though his brown eyes, he shows years of experience. Years of seeing things that lies in even the most wicked people's nightmares. Yet somewhere in there, he still has a caring eye. A soft, and worried expression in his eyes. Eyes that make you feel like your sitting in front if a red hot fire, snuggled in one of those scratchy blankets that your grandmother hand knitted. While drinking a cup of tea.
"What is it?" He asks with concern.
"Just thinking" I reply in my scratchy voice. I used to speak in a clear tone. A high pitched, and clam. It's weird, you never really think about the tone of your voice. At least, I never did until I lost it.
"About?" He enquires.
"Nothing really. Just... I'm not sure. " I say. Most people would probe further, but johnathen knows me. He knows that sometimes I can't form my words when I need them. That I have to think about it a while. So instead, he pulls me into his chest, and cuddles me. We're way last the point of awkwardness. The first week they tied us by the feet to the single bed. We were kind of awkward. Until, eventually, we accepted were going to have to get close. And, so we did. Now we never go to sleep without our arms intertwined. And our body's leaning on Eachother. We pretend its for warmth, but we both know its for support. I don't know if I would be able to make it without our extended hugs, which seem to last hours. And our constant contact.
"How long has it been this time?" I ask him wise eyed, look up from his chest, that used to be packed full of muscle, but is now scrawny.
"About a week." He says mournfully.
"Thought so..." I say softly darting my eyes down.
"I'm right here." He says. He used to say, everything's going to be okay. But, after a few years, we let that dream go. I don't know if we will ever get out if here. So now he just says I'm here. At least I know I can count on that. He is of course talking about the occasional vists I'm forced to make to some sort of medical testing centre. I'm not sure exactly what they do to me there. But I know its a form of torture. I'm always left frazzled My brain can't work. And my body is extremely weak. My emotions are frazzled, and disconnected, and I can't make sense of much. I as dragged against my will here a while ago. Where I met Jonathan. He was also just taken in from his home town in Ohio. We don't know what they do to people here. But I know this is a prison, and were prisoners... And we haven't done anything wrong.
Johanathen has been my night in shining armour. After every....episode, I guess you could say. He is there to pick up the pieces of of my muzzled brain. Endless hours of crying, and waking up in horror. He waits for the hours it takes for them to torture me. And is there for me when I come back. He's amazing.
As he is stroking my hair softly, I hear the metal doors unlock. The noise is intrusive, and it signifies the pain I'm about to experience. I squeeze my eyes tight, trying to block out the world. In a futile attempt of, if I can't see you, you can't see me. A desperate last resort to escape the impending horror. But when I open them, I'm met with Jonathan's worried, but reassuring eyes.
"Remember, I'm here." He says softly, and two guards yank me out of the bed. And I'm shoved down the hallway following a lady with a white clip board. The last I see of johnathen is him sitting up on the bed, as the metal door slams.
(Nurse Olivia, pov)
"Do you know where you are?" I ask the tired question. The girl before me is no older then seventeen. A girl I know well.
"A medical lab" she says sheepishly.
"That's right. And why are you here?" I say.
"Your... Doing a procedure." She says the sentence as if making it up in her mind.
"For what reason?" I say.
"Because... You want to help me?" She says, understanding.
"That's right. Do you see anyone else in this room besides me and these two guards?"I say looking her in the eye. She takes a carful browse in the room, as if checking every corner.
"No." She says simply. I feel a flutter of relish in my stomach.
"Okay, I can see your tired"I say. Her eye lids are falling, and her body is hunched. "Why don't we take you back to your room, and we will continue this tomorrow okay?" I say.
"Okay." She says.
I walk with Brock by my side, while Allison and the guards walk a few paces ahead.
"Any progress?" He says.
"We'll, yes. Today she seemed to forget everything. Just like we hoped but, every time we shock her. She seems to forget for a short time. And then starts to realise, especially when she goes back to her room. When Jonathan explains to her what has happened. Then we loose everything we have worked hard for..again.."I say. He nods, as we reach her door.
"Goodnight, and I'll be back in the morning." I say, and nod her goodbye. She nods, and walks into the room. The guards know to tie her to the bed by now, they do. And she crawls into bed.
I frown as she talks, and cries into the shoulder of an imaginary person.
Confused huh?THATS THE POINT! -Skye