“Throw her in a cell in hall B. That hall only contains a few cells and it will keep her a bit isolated from the others.”
“You want her to be separated from others?”
“Yes. There’s a concern. You will see it when you read the file.”
“Yes, Sir.” Chase flipped the chart page over. “Um, Sir? Is this the report you want me to read?”
“Yes, sent in an envelope straight from the Paragon.” Mr. Parr crossed his fat arms and seemed frustrated by Officer Chase’s questions.
“Really? Not from the police department?”
“Nope. This is top priority. That’s why they have sent me to take over. I know that you haven’t done this kind of work before, Jaxson, but you have been trained to be ready for it. I think you are the one they want to see run the show with her. Focus your attention on her.”
“Yes, Sir. I have some experience in the matter.”
“Well, the interrogation method is a little different but Dr. Cook will fill you in. This should not take long if you follow the plan.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Mr. Parr stood, sliding the metal chair across the stone floor. “Come see me tomorrow at lunch; I will be meeting with Dr. Cook, likely, in the morning.”
“Alright.”
Mr. Parr made his way to the door, leaving Officer Chase with my file. He didn’t even turn back and said, “Just go home after you talk to Dr. Cook and rest up.”
Averting my eyes, I sat silently. The chains were unlocked from the metal ring and they ran across the table and fell over the edge due to the weight of the metal. The sound of the metal hitting the stone floor echoed in the room.
I clenched my teeth just as my arms were pulled with the momentum of the chains falling. The guard grabbed a few links in a fist and pulled them. Splinters dug into my leg as I slid across the seat.
He began to move and I stumbled to catch up.
“Eventually, you will have to face the consequences,” he said. “The truth will come out.” Dissatisfied by my lack of response, he repeated, “You may as well tell him what he wants to know.”
I trailed behind as I thought back to the day I arrived in this strange place. I could still remember a different life, one that held good memories. How could I explain?
“It will help the process move along,” he called back to me. “It’ll, finally, be over.”
“Will I be free?” His brow furrowed. “I mean…” I paused. “Will I be released when they learn that I have done nothing wrong?”
“People who lie can sometimes start to believe those lies. The Paragon doesn’t make mistakes, Inmate. They’ve never made a mistake. You most certainly are not innocent. Stop lying and just own up to your crime. He will continue to work on you until you break.” He paused and cleared his throat. He guided me along. “I saw the report. You will never be free for that crime.”
“Which crime is listed in the file?” I glanced at the file he carried.
“I am not allowed to tell you what you’ve done. You must confess. Give the details and it will be included in the file. We have to complete the file and it will then be sent to the Minister of Justice for examination.”
“If I am not going to be free for the crime, and you don’t believe me when I say there’s been a terrible mistake, then what’s the point?” If I had committed a crime, why would I not remember it?
“The point is,” he said, and stopped, watching me with those piercing blue eyes. “Your actions will result in a punishment. Whatever you do…whatever you say…all of it will be put in that file of his. It will keep growing. If you don’t tell the truth, you will dig yourself into a hole.” Then he gently pulled on the chains to make me follow once more and his laugh was unsettling. “No, you silly girl. You will never be free for that crime.” He walked down the hall. “Let’s go.”
I stumbled. I ran my hands through my hair to get it out of my eyes. It felt greasy and heavy. I glanced around the empty, grey-stone corridor, unsure what to think.
He opened the heavy metal door and led me into my cell. The stone floor felt like ice and after a moment of pain from the sheer chill, my feet began to feel numb. Hay was piled in one corner and I edged towards it. He tugged at the chain until I stood closer to him.
“I need to take those off.” He unlocked the cuffs and gathered the chains. He shut the heavy door with a groan, a slam and an echoed lock engagement.
“Officer Chase, Dr. Cook is asking for you.” A man spoke in the hall.
“On my way there now. Thanks, Mr. Bradley.”
“No problem. She seems pretty eager to see you again.”
I crawled over to the pile of straw and felt instant relief from the chilled stone floor. I rubbed at the abrasions on my bruised wrists. I scanned my new cell and my stomach dropped. This cell was worse than the isolation cell.
My face contorted as I realized what was lacking in this cell. There was no sink, no hygiene supplies, no bedding and worst of all, no flushing toilet, but rather a bucket.
For a moment, the coolness of the damp stone wall was felt through my thin shirt. I lay on the floor, listening to sounds ringing in the corridor. Keys jingling in the hall. Footsteps roaming about, the clicking against the stone. Whistling from a guard. The smell of urine. The relentless, bone-deep living chill rocking my body. Pounding of something echoing across the corridor walls. The emptiness. A click of the lock and the creak of the door. Boredom overcame me and willed for sleep to come.
With Officer Chase gone home, a night guard entered. He motioned me to stand. He shoved a set of folded clothes into my arms. They were stained and the stench emanating suggested someone had lived in these a long while. Body odour and vomit.
He pushed me back before slamming and locking the door.
In the pile, a piece of bread lay.
I changed clothes as the guard waited on the other side of the slot.
I noticed the bucket in the corner of the room hadn’t been cleaned out from the last prisoner. It probably wouldn’t be.
I passed my comfortable beige scrubs through the slot and then sat on the straw to eat the bread. I complained under my breath as I took a bite of the tough bread.
“Hello?”
I perked up. Someone spoke to me through the wall and I noticed a grate near the floor. I peered through it but only darkness remained.
“What are you in for?” the woman said.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I don’t remember committing a crime. They say I’ve done things but they are wrong.”
“You’d better figure out what they are accusing you of and you’d better make it quick. They’ll lose their tempers. Just confess to whatever they tell you.”
“I’m not going to confess to something I haven’t done no matter what they do.”
“There are always more privileges they can take away and more interrogation methods they can apply.”
I bit my lip. Confusion controlled my mind.
“While you were in isolation, I heard them preparing your cell. They said that you did something terrifying. You need to confess or they will use different methods to force you.”
“What can they do? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Just because you can’t remember what you have done, does not mean, little girl, that you have not done it. They put you here until you remember.”
But I could remember a different world. I have no life in this one. Right?
“I can’t just admit to something I don’t remember.”
“There’s nothing you can do about it. You will have to accept the consequences…They know you did it. It doesn’t matter that you don’t remember. They will have proof.”
“I’d like to see the proof.”
A scuttle along the wall caught my attention. A bug scurried along the grout of the wall and stopped just a few inches from my head. Its eyes shimmered red.
I heard shuffling of shoes on
the other side of the metal door and a shadow appeared beneath. I wiped the tears and lay down to pretend to sleep just in case the guard slid the cuff port to spy on me. When the bug scuttled towards me and paused, I placed my hands to cover my eyes. The bug watched for a few moments and then turned to go under the door. The shadow disappeared.
“Tears are to be feared. They will learn a way to beat those emotions out of you,” I heard the woman whisper through the wall.
“Anything else I should know?”
“Don’t ask questions. Just do as your told. Confess. It’s the only way.”
Chapter Five
In the morning, the guard with the ice-blue eyes put the key into my cell door and the echoes drifted down the halls louder than it had the day before. Officer Chase’s voice echoed against the stone walls. I rubbed at my temples but it didn’t help. I hadn’t had a headache in years. The stone walls and floor made it impossible to sleep without waking with muscle pain. My arm was numb from acting as my pillow.
As I rose to stand, everything hurt. My head hurt, my chest hurt, my feet hurt. I paused for a moment and took a deep breath, stretching my back. Perhaps if I could shift my focus away from the pain it'd be easier to manage.
Soft moans and grunts escaped my mouth as I took a step. I told myself it'd be over soon, whether that was true or not was irrelevant as it gave me the necessary strength to deal with it nonetheless.
“Time to get moving. Lots to accomplish today.”
I stretched and the fire in my joints flared as I held my wrists out so that he could cuff me. He placed the cuffs around my wrists and leaned in to make sure the lock caught. He paused for a brief moment before letting go of the cuffs. Then he shook the chains and told me to follow.
“Did you sleep?” he asked me.
I was taken aback. Why would he care? Then it dawned on me. He wanted to know why my eyes were red.
“No, Sir.” I lied to prevent him from knowing that the puffiness surrounding my eyes was caused by my crying. He gazed at me as he led me, studying my eyes for truth as I hobbled beside him. The chains dragged on the ground.
“I—” He cleared his throat. “You…”
I glanced at him to see why he acted so strangely but averted my eyes when another guard approached.
“You are on the Program today and every day until you speak the truth,” Officer Chase blurted out.
Officer Atkinson lingered to watch us, but then strolled down the hall.
The Program didn’t sound promising. I remained silent. My mind spun.
At my silence, he glanced at me. He unlocked the metal door and we entered a hall of iron bars lining one side of the wall; no one was in any of the six cells. The bars were shiny in places where hands had gripped them over time.
“No one is assigned to these cells?”
“I was told that Edgefield uses other cell blocks with inmates since this one is a frequently used main hallway. Otherwise, they hoot and holler every time we walk through. It would grate on you after a while.”
“Here’s where you will stay.” We stopped at a rusted and pitted metal door. At a squeal of the hinges, the door opened with difficulty. It hadn’t been opened in a long while, it seemed.
The room’s temperature dropped substantially from the hallway. A table was fastened to the floor and again a metal ring suggested that I would be sitting on the chair. No second chair was present so it was likely that no one would be sitting with me in this room.
He stood at the door for a moment and looked around the room as if he had not seen it before. At eye level, a barred window shot harsh light and painted sharp rectangles on the concrete floor. The window was so small and so far from my chair that I couldn’t people watch to pass time.
“This is the room that you stay when you are on The Program. I will leave enough slack so that you can use the washroom which is attached to the chair.”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to discern why this would be the case. My face flushed with embarrassment as I noticed that the chair had a large whole carved out with a bucket beneath.
“Sit,” he told me.
I didn’t ask the questions I had swimming through my mind. I sat down.
The chair poked with its sharp edges. It was similar to the one in the Interrogation room which felt like a pine cone, except this one had a hole carved out.
The beauty of the city on the other side of the barred window felt far away. Glass roads and buildings. People at the park. I longed to be outside enjoying the sunshine. It was a pretty world.
He fastened a lock around the chains and the metal ring.
“How long?” I whispered. I fought my emotions.
“The morning, to start.” He spoke in a flat tone.
“The entire morning? Here? In this spot?”
“You are on the Program. It’s the technique that Dr. Cook wants to start with you.” He picked at lint on the shoulder of his black button-down shirt. His badge had Edgefield Corrective Services embroidered. He adjusted his name plate. “I will be back at lunch to take you down to the doctor. She needs to see you today. Then right back here.”
“Will I…” I murmured.
His steel-grey eyes were glistening, showing strange emotion and my heart began to race. “You are here until you talk.” He cleared his throat as he heard the dangling of keys in the hall. “I will bring you bread and water later.” Bread and water?
My stomach hurt from hunger.
He nodded without making eye contact with me, watching through the window then made an unhurried exit. Chills ran up my spine like tiny spiders. As I trembled, a clock in the corner of the room ticked.
To see out the window behind me, I had to crank my head and strain my neck to see. Soon the aches and pains of my body took its toll and my mind drifted. My eyes felt heavy and I placed my head on my arms on the table. I fell asleep, eventually.
Over time, the shadows lengthened as the time ticked by. Startled by the key scraping the lock, followed by a click, I tried to appear alert. The clock revealed that only a few hours had passed.
“I have food and water. How—” I had the impression that Officer Chase was about to ask how I felt. He stopped himself and slid something towards me. He looked at the lines on my wrists. He glanced out the door and then loosened the cuffs with the key. He wasn’t supposed to be making it easier on me. This was a punishment.
“Tell me what to do, Sir.”
That question startled him. He shushed me and looked out the door. “Keep it down,” he whispered.
With sorrowful eyes, he muttered, “I need to take you down to the doctor. Eat first.” He unlocked the chains from the metal ring.
I bit into the tough bread and drank the metallic water.
“Let’s go.”
“Dr. Cook again?”
He chose not to answer.
I walked behind him as he carried the chains. They seemed heavier now as my muscles were sore from sitting all morning.
He halted at a room with a smooth white door. The room smelled of astringent hand sanitizer, soap and latex gloves.
The officer didn’t follow.
Pale walls with florescent lighting, a whiteboard with no information scribed and a folder on the counter. An antibacterial sink station and a hospital robe hung on a hook.
A woman in a smock walked through a door into the examining room. “Hi there. My name is Doctor McFadden.”
The woman’s eyes were kind and her smile seemed genuine but I was skeptical of this place. She tapped the plastic covered bed and lowered the side rails, removing the folded hospital sheets and placing them on the shelf beside the jar of cotton balls and wooden dispensers.
“What am I doing for you today, Miss. Anderson?”
I shrugged.
“Officer Chase?”
“Yes, Doctor?”
“This here…” She pointed to a noted scribbled in the file. “She was supposed to see me a few days ago about a possible concussion.”
> “Yes, Doctor, Mr. Johnson asked me arrange for her to see you but then I was redirected by Dr. Cook who ran some tests first. Your appointment was postponed until after her isolation.”
“A concussion is a serious matter. Early treatment is the best way to recover faster and prevent further injury. She should have seen me first. Tests may have made it worse, if indeed, she has one.” To Officer Chase, she asked, as she flipped through the pages of my file, “Did anyone ask her questions when she arrived?”
“What kind of questions? Dr. Cook asked some questions.”
“I mean questions like ‘do you have a headache?’, ‘Did you black out?’, ‘Do you feel more tired than normal’?”
“I do have headaches, now.”
“See, Officer Chase. She has a headache.”
“And I do feel more tired than I normally do, but this place isn’t conducive to a good night’s sleep.”
“I guess not. I could order you a CT scan or MRI, but both tests are not run here. I would have to send you…”
“That won’t be necessary,” Dr. Cook said, emerging from a door that was camouflaged against the pale wall. When it closed, I noticed there was no door knob. “I ran tests to see if she was concussed and I don’t see any signs. She is fine. I can take over here.”
Dr. McFadden remained still. She met the guard and the doctor’s eyes, contemplating what was happening.
“I have been called to take care of the item in the file.”
“Oh?”
“I will take care of that,” Dr. Cook repeated, and took my file.
“Oh.” Dr. McFadden stepped back, her eyes wide.
Dr. Cook did not make eye contact with me. Dr. McFadden, after a look from Dr. Cook, busied herself at the cabinet behind her. She rolled a rolling cart to an area out of my sight. Suddenly, Dr. Cook had a syringe in her hand and I felt a prick before I had time to react.
I woke in my cell with a bandage around my wrist. When I took it off, I had three small stitches and a clear ointment glossed over.
Chapter Six
Officer Chase returned to find me awake on my cell floor after my visit to the doctor. “Mr. Parr instructed me to take you back to the Program.” I used the wall for balance as I rose to my feet. My legs felt weak as I walked towards the doorway.
Switched and Fears Page 4