Status: Changed the story line a bit. New Preface.
Winter's Tears
Right and Wrong
She looked at the rings, her eyes tracing the circular patterns over and over again. As someone tried to explain to her what she had done was wrong. Some social service person giving her a lecture on right and wrong.
She wondered if they had ever been at someone's complete and utter mercy. If they had been bound to a table with titanium binds. Their body stripped of clothes as they lay there bare and exposed to those who looked at her as if she was an alien.
While she had no choice but to lie there completely and utterly naked as dozens of pairs of eyes looked over every curve of her body. Unable to do a thing about it unless she wished to have herself drugged or shot.
As they searched for some physical evidence of her inhumanity. Because her numerous blood scans and other tests and examinations all came back clear. As she read their minds, knew every thought.
Such a freak….. A national threat…..maybe another country trying to bring America undone….. Such smooth skin…. Her eyes…..
No. She doubted this social worker had ever been at someone's mercy. As Winter doubted if she had she wouldn't be here having this one sided conversation with Winter.
Because right and wrong was lost to Winter. She failed to see how what she had done was wrong. She hadn't hurt anyone, hadn't tied her psychologist down to a table. Stripped her naked and pointed a gun at her head.
No, she hadn't done that. She'd cracked a picture. And that psychologist was the one that made sure she stayed here. As long as she was classified unstable she had to remain in a protective and supporting environment. Dr Francis's words not Winters.
Because this wasn't a protective and supporting environment. This was hell. A hell that allowed doctors -doctors who had sworn oaths to protect and heal- to strip a girl naked and made her lay exposed to everyone around her. To have a gun attained to her every movement. To be shocked with high voltage electricity over and over again. Who thought it was okay to have ice and golf balls thrown at her at high speeds.
No, winter didn't understand right and wrong. She couldn't see how what she had done was wrong. And she failed to see - what was done to her on a regular bases as right.
She let herself fall into her imagination. As she imagined if someone had been here to ask her why she didn't fight back when everyone knew she could, why hadn't she done it? Why hadn't she harm those who had hurt her. Who had exposed her, and ensured she remained locked in a guarded and padded cell for years upon years.
Why?
She imagined she would smile, let those pale peach lips curl up into a smile that would be almost humorous as she regarded the person who dared to ask. And finally her lips would give way to a voice, a voice she hadn't used in almost five years. And she would say in a clear easily understood voice.
'Why would I fight? Those who fight have something to fight for. Me? I have nothing. My life? Is worthless according to those around me as I pose a tremendous risk to humanity apparently.'
She would let her lips close for the briefest of moments before a laugh, a rare laugh escaped those same lips as she shook her head. As if she found the whole situation hilarious. A joke.
'I'm Pandora's box aren't I. They know I hold an evil unimaginable and not only that I'm the one who inspires the questions, and is the only person with any answers but refuses to speak.'
She would continue, tilting her head back as she let those eyes -that inspired so much fear- draw to a close. The laugh would cross the smile that played on the edges of her lips.
'I have nothing to loose and they have everything.'
She imagined all of this as she continued to ignore those who tried to get her to listen, to focus. She imagined many conversations like this, as she traced the rings with her eyes. The strong proud band, and the broken, delicate circle.
She wondered if they had ever been at someone's complete and utter mercy. If they had been bound to a table with titanium binds. Their body stripped of clothes as they lay there bare and exposed to those who looked at her as if she was an alien.
While she had no choice but to lie there completely and utterly naked as dozens of pairs of eyes looked over every curve of her body. Unable to do a thing about it unless she wished to have herself drugged or shot.
As they searched for some physical evidence of her inhumanity. Because her numerous blood scans and other tests and examinations all came back clear. As she read their minds, knew every thought.
Such a freak….. A national threat…..maybe another country trying to bring America undone….. Such smooth skin…. Her eyes…..
No. She doubted this social worker had ever been at someone's mercy. As Winter doubted if she had she wouldn't be here having this one sided conversation with Winter.
Because right and wrong was lost to Winter. She failed to see how what she had done was wrong. She hadn't hurt anyone, hadn't tied her psychologist down to a table. Stripped her naked and pointed a gun at her head.
No, she hadn't done that. She'd cracked a picture. And that psychologist was the one that made sure she stayed here. As long as she was classified unstable she had to remain in a protective and supporting environment. Dr Francis's words not Winters.
Because this wasn't a protective and supporting environment. This was hell. A hell that allowed doctors -doctors who had sworn oaths to protect and heal- to strip a girl naked and made her lay exposed to everyone around her. To have a gun attained to her every movement. To be shocked with high voltage electricity over and over again. Who thought it was okay to have ice and golf balls thrown at her at high speeds.
No, winter didn't understand right and wrong. She couldn't see how what she had done was wrong. And she failed to see - what was done to her on a regular bases as right.
She let herself fall into her imagination. As she imagined if someone had been here to ask her why she didn't fight back when everyone knew she could, why hadn't she done it? Why hadn't she harm those who had hurt her. Who had exposed her, and ensured she remained locked in a guarded and padded cell for years upon years.
Why?
She imagined she would smile, let those pale peach lips curl up into a smile that would be almost humorous as she regarded the person who dared to ask. And finally her lips would give way to a voice, a voice she hadn't used in almost five years. And she would say in a clear easily understood voice.
'Why would I fight? Those who fight have something to fight for. Me? I have nothing. My life? Is worthless according to those around me as I pose a tremendous risk to humanity apparently.'
She would let her lips close for the briefest of moments before a laugh, a rare laugh escaped those same lips as she shook her head. As if she found the whole situation hilarious. A joke.
'I'm Pandora's box aren't I. They know I hold an evil unimaginable and not only that I'm the one who inspires the questions, and is the only person with any answers but refuses to speak.'
She would continue, tilting her head back as she let those eyes -that inspired so much fear- draw to a close. The laugh would cross the smile that played on the edges of her lips.
'I have nothing to loose and they have everything.'
She imagined all of this as she continued to ignore those who tried to get her to listen, to focus. She imagined many conversations like this, as she traced the rings with her eyes. The strong proud band, and the broken, delicate circle.