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2.
She couldn't really remember her first three days at the institute.
It was kind of just a blur, really. She wasn't sure whether that was due to the blow to her head she received as she tried to kick and scratch her way away from the men that dragged her by both arms, or the drugs she presumed they had stuck into her. Probably both.
All she knew was that for at least sixty-something hours, she lay passed out in the corner of her room. Which, by the way, wasn't in the least bit exciting. A bed, some drawers put there in an attempt to make it seem more home-ish, but nothing else. Even the walls, which she presumed used to be white, were a bland, almost stained color.
When she did come to, it took her at least another twenty minutes to drag herself to her feet without falling again. Drugs did that to you – they would knock you out and leave you incapacitated for at least a good amount of time afterward. How else would they manage to continuously keep medicating them so easily?
When she finally did manage to drag herself out of her room and into what looked like the main room – she couldn't really be sure, things were still a little hazy – she wasn't exactly greeted by the most welcoming scene. She hadn't expected things to be normal in the first place, of course, this wasn't a social club. But, okay, she'll admit; she didn't expect a huge drama scene to be dropped on her immediately.
That first (er, third) day, she learned what may have been the most important lesson: expect anything.
She walked into a room that was dark for the most part, illuminated solely by a lamp around the center of the room. This didn't help her eyes, which strained to focus on what was happening. Whatever sedative they had given her this time, it was strong. Her eyes just managed to take in the five people, three boys and two girls, sitting there, before the screaming and shouting began.
She really shouldn't have been surprised when it started. After all, each and every face had been turned to the three figures in the doorway across the room, and not at her. Her body jumped slightly as a voice screamed out something and the figures darted into action. She watched as the two figures, both of them taller than the one who was yelling, grabbed what looked like a boy around her age by the arms. They were only in the door way for around thirty seconds before he was dragged off, but it seemed longer as she watched him kick and yell and struggle and claw at the men. Then the room fell silent, and she realized no one had moved.
They weren't even looking at her, which almost made her angry. They were paying absolutely no attention to her, and it wasn't like they got new people every day. Or did they? Whatever, At least it gave her a chance to take a good look at them, which she hadn't been able to do before due to the little distraction.
The two girls were sitting near each other, one of them curled up on a couch with a book, the other sat cross-legged on the floor. The second girl was running her finger along the ground in a nonsense way, as though she was trying to draw something.
The three boys were a little further apart, and didn't seem to be doing anything at all. One was sat in a corner, tearing up...paper, it seemed. Another one was leaning against a wall, head down and focused on the ground, while the final one was sitting in a chair, staring aimlessly into space. He was the one who noticed her first.
She watched his eyes lock onto her shoes (no one gave a damn about manners here) first, then slowly run up her body until they focused on her face. A look of confusion passed over his features, but he got up anyway, stepping over the girl sitting on the floor as he made his way toward her.
"Hey," She said quickly as he stopped in front of her. He didn't say anything back to her, just looked her over again. She shuffled awkwardly and finally, he spoke,
"Hey. Who are you?"
"Who are you?" She retorted back without thinking. One eyebrow quirked upward on his face, but he replied anyways,
"Subject B61," He said, holding out a hand for her to shake, "But most people just think of me as 'the one with the eating disorder'." As she took his hand, she felt how thin his fingers were and noticed for the first time just how skinny he was. He hadn't been kidding.
"I'm, uh...um.." She struggled, trying to think. Had she been told her name? Clearly they didn't use actual names here.
"Haha, don't worry," He laughed at her, almost surprisingly. "They print it on your hand when you arrive." He grabbed her wrist, holding it in his own hand as they both peered down at the number stamped on the back of her palm.
"C16," She said aloud, "Well, I guess that's that, then. I'm Subject C16."
He dropped her hand, and flashed her a smile. "Nice to meet you," He took a step back, eyes travelling around just a little before looking back at her, "So, you're new here?"
"I guess."
"I suppose you should meet the others, then."
"You sure none of them will scream and kick at me?" She asked, her tone only a little serious.
"I can't guarantee anything," He shrugged, "But hey, we wouldn't expect anything less from you."
She couldn't really remember her first three days at the institute.
It was kind of just a blur, really. She wasn't sure whether that was due to the blow to her head she received as she tried to kick and scratch her way away from the men that dragged her by both arms, or the drugs she presumed they had stuck into her. Probably both.
All she knew was that for at least sixty-something hours, she lay passed out in the corner of her room. Which, by the way, wasn't in the least bit exciting. A bed, some drawers put there in an attempt to make it seem more home-ish, but nothing else. Even the walls, which she presumed used to be white, were a bland, almost stained color.
When she did come to, it took her at least another twenty minutes to drag herself to her feet without falling again. Drugs did that to you – they would knock you out and leave you incapacitated for at least a good amount of time afterward. How else would they manage to continuously keep medicating them so easily?
When she finally did manage to drag herself out of her room and into what looked like the main room – she couldn't really be sure, things were still a little hazy – she wasn't exactly greeted by the most welcoming scene. She hadn't expected things to be normal in the first place, of course, this wasn't a social club. But, okay, she'll admit; she didn't expect a huge drama scene to be dropped on her immediately.
That first (er, third) day, she learned what may have been the most important lesson: expect anything.
She walked into a room that was dark for the most part, illuminated solely by a lamp around the center of the room. This didn't help her eyes, which strained to focus on what was happening. Whatever sedative they had given her this time, it was strong. Her eyes just managed to take in the five people, three boys and two girls, sitting there, before the screaming and shouting began.
She really shouldn't have been surprised when it started. After all, each and every face had been turned to the three figures in the doorway across the room, and not at her. Her body jumped slightly as a voice screamed out something and the figures darted into action. She watched as the two figures, both of them taller than the one who was yelling, grabbed what looked like a boy around her age by the arms. They were only in the door way for around thirty seconds before he was dragged off, but it seemed longer as she watched him kick and yell and struggle and claw at the men. Then the room fell silent, and she realized no one had moved.
They weren't even looking at her, which almost made her angry. They were paying absolutely no attention to her, and it wasn't like they got new people every day. Or did they? Whatever, At least it gave her a chance to take a good look at them, which she hadn't been able to do before due to the little distraction.
The two girls were sitting near each other, one of them curled up on a couch with a book, the other sat cross-legged on the floor. The second girl was running her finger along the ground in a nonsense way, as though she was trying to draw something.
The three boys were a little further apart, and didn't seem to be doing anything at all. One was sat in a corner, tearing up...paper, it seemed. Another one was leaning against a wall, head down and focused on the ground, while the final one was sitting in a chair, staring aimlessly into space. He was the one who noticed her first.
She watched his eyes lock onto her shoes (no one gave a damn about manners here) first, then slowly run up her body until they focused on her face. A look of confusion passed over his features, but he got up anyway, stepping over the girl sitting on the floor as he made his way toward her.
"Hey," She said quickly as he stopped in front of her. He didn't say anything back to her, just looked her over again. She shuffled awkwardly and finally, he spoke,
"Hey. Who are you?"
"Who are you?" She retorted back without thinking. One eyebrow quirked upward on his face, but he replied anyways,
"Subject B61," He said, holding out a hand for her to shake, "But most people just think of me as 'the one with the eating disorder'." As she took his hand, she felt how thin his fingers were and noticed for the first time just how skinny he was. He hadn't been kidding.
"I'm, uh...um.." She struggled, trying to think. Had she been told her name? Clearly they didn't use actual names here.
"Haha, don't worry," He laughed at her, almost surprisingly. "They print it on your hand when you arrive." He grabbed her wrist, holding it in his own hand as they both peered down at the number stamped on the back of her palm.
"C16," She said aloud, "Well, I guess that's that, then. I'm Subject C16."
He dropped her hand, and flashed her a smile. "Nice to meet you," He took a step back, eyes travelling around just a little before looking back at her, "So, you're new here?"
"I guess."
"I suppose you should meet the others, then."
"You sure none of them will scream and kick at me?" She asked, her tone only a little serious.
"I can't guarantee anything," He shrugged, "But hey, we wouldn't expect anything less from you."
Literature
Tight jeans and Theatrical boys
I pull up in his dad's driveway
and the boy sitting on the stoop looks like
Saint Exupery's treasured little prince.
When he climbs inside my used Sentra,
I tell him about this quirky realization.
"You're both so cute and opinionated."
He grins and replies that it's his favorite book
to read when life is particularly rough.
Cappuccino sips and playful shoves
convert the evening into something
brilliantly unstable and devastatingly 'teenager'.
I want to kiss him violently, so we can stop this
annoying game of cat and mouse.
But instead, we discuss music
and other topics that make me feel childish.
He asks where I would go if I could
telep
Literature
Right Hand, Left Hand
I wish
being a lesbian were like
being left-handed.
Whenever someone notices
you writing a cheque
or doodling
or opening a door
And they exclaim:
"You're left-handed?"
I wish it were as simple as that.
When it's funny
and I laugh, panicking.
Such stuff punchlines are made on,
that such a casual,
integral,
part of myself
has the spotlight shone on it,
And revealed (they think)
their own ignorance,
(How wonderful it is to enlighten someone
by being.)
And yet I never hear the questions
that logically spring to mind:
"Won't you have trouble with the gearshift
on a car?"
"How do you use scissors?"
"Can you even write
wi
Literature
still,
"i want grandchildren."
that car ride ruined some things
threw a wine bottle at the wall
15 years sitting
it was good enough or
it wasn't good enough
all the silence forced
my pride to jump out the window
if any rested in her
she showed it off like a speech bubble
tied it to her teeth
slammed it in the door
had it under her pillow for months
and years and years and years
there was no statement
there was no outstretched hand
just steering wheel clenching
knuckles white and jaw taut
(all because who i bed was not her mindful of
timeline perfection)
i still think i'm a tumor
--
she shows it off like a speeding ticket
i
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Chapter two. 
I got fairly good commentary on the first part, so I wrote another chapter. Enjoy.
Previous chapter:
[link]
I got fairly good commentary on the first part, so I wrote another chapter. Enjoy.Previous chapter:
[link]
© 2013 - 2024 hey-there-blue-eyes
Comments2
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Very well continued from the first chapter; I'm sure I'll check back to see whether you write any more of this, as it's very good so far. Also slightly interested to know which of the girls the main character is, as it's not too clear, but I'm sure you'll weave that in if you write more.
