Chapter 2 - The Cell, Rylee
1059 Words
Chapter 2 - The Cell, Rylee
What is this place? Why am I here?>>>
The next time I awake I'm alone. I sit up in a bed. The bed is bare, just a metal frame with a thin mattress and a scrap piece of linen that can barely pass as a sheet. The metal bed groans as I shift my weight and sit up.
The room is sparse and depressing. There is a hum of lights and a silent intercom, my "bed", a toilet with a sink in the back (eww), and a door. The colors of the wall are various shades of white, suggesting they'd been repainted many times.
The air feels so suffocatingly stale that I can feel a pit open in my stomach.
I sit up in the bed and shift the flimsy sheet off of me. I am wearing a loose top and loose bottoms. I don't have shoes and socks on but those are near my bed.
As I stand up the door is pushed open and people swarm the room.
I am overwhelmed. My brain feels like it is a giant cotton ball and I can barely think so I freeze as men surround me with guns and knives. I have never had a gun or a knife pointed at me until now. I hadn't realized how terrifying it was.
I have no idea how to feel. I have never once truly been in danger before.
Everyone seems to be almost twice my size as the hulk over me. Their faces convey no emotions. Confusion brings the threat of tears to my eyes but I refuse to let them surface.
Keep it together Rylee
A woman with a white coat strides in.
"You are now to be known as 937. Any other reference will result in punishment. Nod if you understand 937." Her hand (more like claws, boney and cold) grab my chin.
I don't understand but I nod weakly anyway. She sounds like she does this all day. I wonder how many others are here?
The white coat spins on her heel and leaves the room. I feel one of the men pull my arms behind me and slap on handcuffs. Except... These sting. I stiffen with the new pain sensation. A hiss escapes my teeth even though I grit them together to suppress the sound.
What the hell? I have never been in trouble or put in handcuffs, but should these be stinging like that?
He pulls my arm forcefully dragging me out of the room. My short legs cannot keep up with his long strides and I find myself stumbling, getting dragged, and getting pulled up. I try to look around, but my eyes can't catch anything at this pace. This cycle of speed walking continues down a labyrinth of hallways until we reach a room.
There is a faded yellow sign with black letters that reads"Interrogation," he says and pushes me through a door and I stumble through.
The man - dressed in khakis - is markedly different from the men in black. He is still huge, but his appeal is more clinical. He has a clipboard and implements. He offers no explanation or questions as he pushes me onto a body board. It is vertical and he expertly fastens my wrists, hips, and ankles down.
I know he can feel me tremble as he holds my limbs. I want to speak, to say there has been a mistake, but my voice has slipped.
The man pushes up my pant leg exposing my bare skin. He grabs a silver-colored object from his table with a gloved hand and places it against my leg.
I was not prepared for the pain. My skin seemed to boil as I sobbed.
He just nods his head and writes on his clipboard. He then moved to repeat the action.
.
I wake up back on my thin mattress.
Memories from the days before stream into my memory as I lay staring at the ceiling. Tears swim in the corner of my eyes.
What was even happening? I come home after sports club to my dad...
My dad.
Oh...
I curl up on my side and sob myself to sleep.
.
I am woken again by the sound of the metal door slamming. A tray of food slides across the floor. There is a cup of water, a bun, and cheese.
Simple enough.
I roll to my side and crawl out of the bed. My leg still aches from the interrogation. My crying has dried out my throat so I sip at the water cup first.
I settle on taking small bites out of the cheese and bread. I try to digest what happened ... After my dad there was darkness.
Then a doctor? Maybe. Soldiers?
We lived in a small town. There were no military bases or soldiers around.
Everything here smells of cleaner, sweat, and salt. What place can even smell so stagnant?
I remember the interrogation. A shiver runs over my body. I can't even call it that. No questions were asked. They used metal on me. I had no idea metal could hurt like that! It wasn't even a knife, just a dull piece of metal. It was small, and silver in color, but it hurt.
I lift my pants leg. There is now a scar from where the interrogator had pressed the metal against my leg. I had been secured to a body board. My arms had been spread wide and secured, my hips were strapped down, and my ankles were cuffed in a silver restraint that stung against my skin. The metal piece was not sharp, but his face remained emotionless as he pressed it against my leg and held it there while I cried and screamed.
I shutter again.
What is this place? Why am I here? Who are these people? A few days ago I was studying for midterms and playing sports. My nights used to be used for studying for exams. And now… now I am a confused mess, in pain both mental and physical. I can't speak but at least my thoughts are finding a way to keep me company.
The memory of pain makes me wretch. I grab my stomach and stumble towards the toilet before I collapse.
- Writer
