I limped down the corridor behind him as he pulled.
One tear escaped so I dropped my head to hide it. Chase grabbed my chin and lifted my head to stare into my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” I blurted out. “I’m trying…”
“Not good enough, Inmate.” He tore away his mask. “For every tear, I have been instructed to give you one whip. So that’s another one.” He squeezed my cheeks and pulled me closer. I winced at the pain. He smelled like sweat. I wanted to spit on him. “Are you going to add more to that number?”
“No…no, Officer,” I said through pursed lips. He squeezed again and then let go of my face with a shove. My lip quivered. I couldn’t stop it.
For a moment, a facial expression crossed his face. A revelation or a moment where he felt guilty for what he had just done. His eyes glossed over and then he shook his head and stood back. He watched my eyes. I stared into his. What was he thinking? Why was he acting so vicious? I thought he was different.
I didn’t want to see his eyes. They confused me. First, he’s angry and vicious, and then he is gentle and apologetic. Those eyes give him away. I’m afraid of them and yet, at times, I need them to tell me that I will survive this.
He chained me like a dog to the metal ring of the Program Room. He charged out of the room, locked the door after slamming it. He pounded down the hall, his keys knocking into his hip like a drum.
Chapter Eleven
After sitting on the Program for hours longer than I had anticipated, Jaxson came to retrieve me. He passed the interrogation room and unlocked the door to the whipping room. What kind of man would have a nurse check my wounds, only to add more hours later.
Maybe he wouldn’t hit as hard if I cooperated despite what Mr. Parr said. His eyes steamed. They frightened me to the very pit of my stomach. My bottom lip trembled.
“Take off your shirt.” He stood closer than he had before. My shirt landed on the floor. He kicked it to the wall. He took my hand and tied the rope to the cuff. He kept glancing back at my eyes. I bit my tongue to avoid my emotions from capsizing.
He took the other hand and tied the rope. He turned me around and placed me against the wall, my nose touching the moist stone. He was being gentle, but I knew in any moment he would open fire on me.
I waited for him to pull the ropes hard but he didn’t. I barely felt them tugging against my arms.
He stood behind me with the whip. I closed my eyes. The sound of the whip made me scream out but no pain followed it. Another snap. I screamed again. But once more, no pain resonated. I watched him, peripherally. He stood near another wall. He whipped the wall again and then turned to me. “Scream,” he whispered. I did. I let out my anger and my fear. “Again,” he said. I cried out.
When he untied me, he never took his eyes off mine. When a tear traveled down my cheek, he wiped it with his thumb, and then brushed my lip. He untied me, and then he put the shirt over my head and pulled it down over me.
This was the mind game. He would pretend to help me. He would make me trust him and then he would get information out of me. I fought the temptation to ask for help. Or to ask what to do. I shoved those questions I had nagging in my head about this place away. I could not believe that what he had done was for me. Or him, for that matter. He played a game because it was his job.
He tossed his gloves into the metal can near the door.
In my cell, I watched as Officer Pake reached around and handed him a cup. A red gel cap slid into his mouth. Officer Chase handed me a blue pill from another paper cup. I watched as he took a sip of water and washed his pill down. He handed me the water too, and kept an eye on me as I swallowed.
He checked my mouth, had me move my tongue.
I lay down on the floor of my cell as he locked the door.
A frothy ill-flavoured mucous rose in the back of my throat. The taste was vile.
Ten minutes later, I heard Jaxson’s voice. Vicious angry words exploded down the halls. Chills ran through me as I thought about the fire that flared behind his eyes.
The air was alive, pressing on me, giving my goosebumps a reason to rise, encouraging them. Jaxson’s voice continued to get angrier and louder until, eventually, his voice was hoarse.
Officer Chase’s keys jingled and he paced outside my door like a caged wolf. His breath was heavy, as if it could drop to the floor like a concrete block. He growled in frustration but continued to shuffle back and forth. I put my hands over my ears. His shadow hovered.
When his shadow fell away from the door, my shoulders slumped. My strength was weak, my body limp.
Had he gotten caught faking my whipping? Maybe he was forced to come for me again.
My mind shot like a pistol when the screams of the woman in the cell next to me erupted the silence. Chase dragged her from the cold cell. Hoarse screeches penetrated deep within my bones. The rage behind his words made me curl into a fetal position and be glad that he wasn’t doing this to me. I was glad it was her.
My mind spun. She screamed out for Dr. Cook. And then for Mr. Parr. Her fears were more amplified with Officer Chase than Officer Pake. I didn’t understand it. She screamed for Officer Pake next and I realized that she didn’t care who came to stop Officer Chase. Anyone would do. No one came.
Twenty minutes later, the keys of a guard and the dragging of something heavy along the floor tiles made me go to the window of my cell and look out. Chase returned the woman and I hurried to catch a glimpse of her. Blood seeped through the back of her shirt and she was lifeless.
He dragged her to her cell. The door was unlocked, a thud followed, and then he locked the door again. He charged towards my cell, and I hid to the side. I watched as his shadow appeared under my cell door.
Officer Chase breathed heavily on the other side of the door, and my chest ached from holding a breath. Instead of coming in, he stormed down the hall. I let out that breath just as another beetle scurried out from the crevice. I didn’t move until its light turned off and it skittered back where it had come. It was listening to me. Watching me.
I lay down near the vent and peered into it. It was too dark to see anything. I called out to her. “Miss? Are you okay?” She didn’t answer and this is my truth: I thought she was dead.
The next morning, I sat gripping the edges of the metal pail. I had been throwing up in the night, my shirt was covered in vomit and my cell wreaked. I noticed it had been cleaned out while I slept. That image made me shudder. Someone had been in here without my knowing.
Keys jingled. Heavy steps pounded. I scurried to the floor and held that bucket near me just in case I needed to empty my stomach again.
Officer Chase appeared at the window which they had forgotten to slide closed and he unlocked the door. I didn’t say anything. I wiped my mouth with my shirt sleeve, near the shoulder. I shook at the sight of him. His shoulders slouched, and he breathed slowly.
He offered bread and water. I ate it but watched him as he paced in my cell. He waited to tell me something. He seemed agitated. I didn’t say a word. The bread helped to calm my stomach from churning.
For a full five minutes, he paced. I, finally, said, “Jaxson?”
“You can’t call me that. Officer. Call me Officer.” He studied the halls. “Don’t speak. Within these walls…voices are carried.” He scanned the corners of the room.
“I have to tell you something,” I whispered.
His eyes twitched. He waited for me to tell him what I had done, but this was not what I wanted to tell him. The smell of my cell and my clothes made me feel embarrassed as he approached. Why in the world would I care what he thought? Stop that. You may need to help him so that he can help you.
He waited for me to speak. I motioned to him to come closer but he shook his head. He didn’t trust me. Make him listen.
As he rose to walk away, I grabbed his arm. “Wait. I know something you should know.” Tell him so that you may survive.
“No, you don’t.” He scowled at me, h
is mask clinging to his chin as he stormed out of the room, locking the door before I could even process his actions.
When a different guard came to the door to escort me down the corridor, I worried that someone had heard me. Was he going to take me to the interrogation room? I could tell them what they wanted to hear. I killed someone. I know what I am accused of. I doubted that telling them meant I would be off to a better place. The Program was terrible but how could it get worse? That thought made me shudder. It can always be worse.
The guard chained me to the table. He tightened the cuffs until a line would leave an indent in my skin. He gave me barely any room to move with the chain length. I sat hunched over, unable to sit up straight. Where was Officer Chase?
“Enjoy,” he said, dryly, and walked out.
Bread and water arrived when my stomach burned from a throbbing pain.
Later, to my surprise actually, Officer Chase came but wouldn’t make eye contact with me. He kept his head down and his hands were shaking. Actually, his entire body trembled. Was he angry? Afraid?
“Officer,” I whispered.
His eyes met mine and the fire, oh the fire, was gruesome. He was seething and his scowl almost shushed me but I blurted out, “I have to tell you something.”
He burst towards me, startling me into a painful jolt as the chains pinned me back down. I tried to retreat, but the cuffs and the chains. “Can’t you just shut up!”
I let out a whimpered cry.
He glared at me; his eyes fierce. His gaze burned with such intensity that my soul quivered. Something was wrong with him. His volatile mood changes. A cold worm of fear gnawed at my spine but I worked past it to say, “Don’t take the pills,” in a whisper.
He angrily pushed the table, but it was bolted and it didn’t budge. This frustrated him. The torturous gaze was bitter and his eyes cruel and dead. I shuddered at the sight of them. He stormed out of the room and slammed the door and locked it. I heard him pound down the hall, his keys clanging against his thigh.
That evening when a guard brought me my blue pill, I pretended to put it in my mouth, but dropped it into my shirt. When he looked into my mouth, he couldn’t see it. He was satisfied. He left an apple and walked out.
I waited an hour before I fished for that pill, watched the crevices for beetles and dropped it in the vent. They were making me nauseous. They were not what they said they were. And neither were the red pills Officer Chase was taking. Something was off about this place.
I heard the voice on the other side of the wall. “Are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here.” I crouched closer. “What happened to you? Where have you been?” I recalled the terrible anger that Officer Chase expressed the night he dragged her away.
“That guard named Jaxson…”
Officer Jaxson Chase.
“…he took me to the whipping room.”
A wave of apprehension washed over me. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve never been there until that night. I don’t know what I did to deserve it. I usually get…a different punishment.”
“A different one? What do you mean?” With slow-mounting terror, more was to be understood about this prison. It was a place of torture, not rehabilitation. The cold light of fear shone in my eyes. Tub time.
“We all receive different punishments to correct our behaviour. I usually get my head pushed into a tub of water. That’s mine.” Tub Time.
“I never had them do that to me.”
“No one receives the same punishment. I don’t know how they decide. Yours has been whippings…but that night, I received the whippings.” She described the whips as cruel barbs that bit into her skin. It reminded me of claws. I shuddered as I knew too well the searing pain.
Was the guard supposed to whip me that night? He owed me. Did he choose her instead?
“He was angrier than I had ever seen that man. I don’t usually even have Jaxson as my guard. And then he shows up, spitting while he spoke, but it was what he did in the room. Yanking those ropes and chains. Whipping me so hard. But…he kept saying your name. Screaming it. And mumbling things.”
Breathless. “What did he say?”
“He kept saying, ‘Just tell them what they need to hear. Who cares if you don’t remember? Don’t make me do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”
“Oh my…”
“He cried the entire time. His hands shook. When he was done, he dropped the whip and collapsed and sobbed into the floor, I hung there for an hour, waiting. It was as if he was possessed. He took me down. He had to drag me out of the room. When I tried to tell my usual guard about his behaviour, I was punished for complaining and then I was kept in isolation room for days. It was awful.”
“I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“Is that what Jaxson does to you? It’s terrible, Saige. Just horrible.”
She knew my name now. She knew because he had screamed my name. Did he have to use my name so that the guards thought he whipped me? Had he been ordered to hurt me that night, but just couldn’t do it? Why had he done that? What was he thinking?
“How are you?”
“Better than you, I suppose. Sorry.” I closed my eyes for a moment.
“Did you figure out what you are being accused of?”
To her question, I lied because I needed to keep my thoughts to myself. “No. I wish. But taking those pills makes me forget which helps. I don’t fight it as much when I am taking those.” I knew if I told her that I stopped taking the pills, someone could find out. If it was in my head, they could not.
“Keep taking them. They will help heal your mind. When you remember, you will feel better. Tell them, and then this can be over. You need to avoid the whips.”
Chapter Twelve
“A few things to accomplish today. First things first, you need to have a shower,” Officer Chase announced. My heart escalated as I recalled what had happened the last time.
I stood, my knees shaking. My mind was flustered.
“Let’s go.” There was no venom in his words.
Once inside the locker room, he said, “Same drill. Clothes are there. Towel there. Soap is inside the shower.”
He sat with his back to me for privacy.
I took my clothes off and glanced his way, feeling nervous that he would peek. I felt unnerved by the lack of curtain for privacy. I turned on the water and waited to see if it would warm up.
A PA system blared, “Officer Chase to see Mr. Parr. Officer Chase.”
He turned to look at the speaker. He glanced at me and then averted his eyes. “I have to go. Will you…I will be right back. Shower. I will lock the door.” He looked at the chains. “Actually, I should cuff you. Do you think you could shower with your cuffs?”
I shrugged.
He tossed the cuffs to me, and tried to keep from looking my way. “Cuff yourself before I go. Let me hear it click.”
I clicked the cuffs to my wrists. Once he was satisfied, he said, “I will be right back. No funny business. The door will be locked until I get back.”
“Yes, Sir.”
At the click of the door lock, I did as I was told. I went into the shower and poured soap into my hair and scrubbed the grease away. I rubbed the suds over my body and then I noticed a shadow block the light into the shower. When I turned in fright, praying that it was Jaxson returning, my heart sank when I saw that it was Pake.
“Stop,” I said, before he had done anything. “Don’t,” I warned.
“Don’t what?” He smirked at me.
Then he charged at me, as if I had anywhere to go, or as if he knew that he had mere minutes to brutalize me before Officer Chase returned to stop him. I screamed so loud that it scared me. My heart raced and I brought my knee up to stop him, and pushed with my arm as I tried to cover my breasts with the other. He pushed towards me, and the water from the shower sprayed over his face.
I heard Officer Chase’s voice from behind and just as Pake turned, pushing
me until I was unbalanced on that one leg, I fell and hit my head off the shower hardware, cracking my head off the floor next.
My eyes blurred and then I saw spots. Officer Chase’s voice sounded like it was underwater as my brain tried to shut down. I saw Officer Pake’s arm raise and come down on Chase’s face as he held him to the ground. Officer Pake stood up, breathed heavily as he came back to the shower. I tried to get up, to protect myself, and it’s possible that I raised a weak arm, but there was no strength left in me. Red crimson water swirled around me.
Officer Pake was suddenly pushed and he fell over me, crumpling on the shower floor beside me. Officer Chase’s eyes found mine, and then darkness fell as I passed out.
Water dripped. My eyes were closed and my mind tried to place the sound. Where was the dripping coming from? A flickering light woke me and I realized that I wasn’t in my cell. I tried to sit up, but my hands were strapped. My ankles were tethered to the bottom of a reclined chair. I yanked on my bound wrists. I heard voices in the hall. I remained quiet to listen. The conversation wasn’t clear.
The monitor room again. Same pictures on the walls. Same white paint like a hospital room. Walls of screens, keyboards, controls and switches. My panic erupted. The straps bit cruelly into my sore wrists.
The door opened silently. Three men with white smocks and clipboards walked in. They didn’t say anything to me. Mr. Parr walked through the door, made eye contact with me, and then said, “I want to know what she has done and where she’s been. Everything.”
“Yes, Sir, Mr. Parr.”
“They want answers.” Mr. Parr leaned in to read something on one of the monitors and then he glanced at one of the men. The man turned. It was Mr. Everett.
“Of course. It’s been working just fine. They will be satisfied,” Dr. Bailey Cook whispered from behind me. I hadn’t realized that someone had been in the room when I had woken. She remained quiet. As quiet as I.
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