Just Beyond the River
the white room
It was the white room.
She could feel the isolation already. Her poor vision couldn't hide that she was back, a prisoner once more, agonisingly waiting until they would once more rob her of the white room. How long would it take this time? No doubt they'd wash her like an animal, ridding her of any grasp of freedom she had attempted to keep, but would they force her through the entire process? She didn't think she'd be able to withstand that pain again.
The floor was cold against her skin as she felt around for the tell-tale sign of the paper gown. It was to the right of her, and she gripped it tightly before she slowly rose to her feet, steadying herself against the wall. It didn't provide her with much protection or warmth but the gown brought her some comfort as she paced about the room.
Twelve paces long, seven wide.
Windowless.
Empty.
Silent.
She was curled in a corner when the door opened and footsteps approached her. There was no point in fighting as they grabbed her by the upper arms and led her out the room, her feet meeting cold floor after cold floor. The corridor was long and when a door in front of them was opened, she knew where they had taken her.
"Ah, yes, I see the concern they have," he spoke once the door had been closed. "Follow my voice and come sit in the chair."
The chair was cold and squeaked when she sat on it, her gown crinkling beneath her. Putting the gown on had been the right decision.
"I hear you went on a little adventure," he said, his hands prodding around her eyes. "But your eyes are very peculiar. I don't think they were because of that. Were there any indications?"
"Pain, in my head," she mumbled.
"We will have to observe that. Don't want anything to happen to our little Aurora -- which reminds me, I hear you had a little slip-up with your handler when he found you. Do you remember the other choice?" His fingers were pressing into her temples as if trying to find a specific spot. She remained silent. "I was wondering when I'd experience your stubbornness again. Nevertheless, the abrupt hiccup we've experienced can easily be remedied."
When his fingers touched just beneath her hairline, she jerked away in pain. "Odd," he commented. She could hear him move and then some papers rustling. "We'll have to check all those spots, make sure it's not consistent. But I'm still waiting on your answer. Do you remember the other choice?"
She remembered as clear as day. Though she hated the cruel humour behind the choice of Aurora, at least it gave her some form of identity. The other choice, the one she had been called right at the start, didn't give her that small comfort. She had swore to herself to never speak it again, and she wasn't prepared to go back on that. Not when she craved death over remaining in this prison.
A cloth being draped over her eyes startled her. "What happened to the girl who used to answer all questions willingly? Need I promise you something in exchange? I'm afraid that due to, ah, difficulties, I cannot arrange a small get-together with the others," he said, smoothing the cloth over her right eye before liquid began to soak it. "Keep your eyes open."
"They escaped," she said.
"Ah, so you do speak. Yes, as I'm sure you're frighteningly aware, we had a rather big mishap last night, but rest assured, their handlers are returning them just as swiftly as you were." He moved over to her left eye and began to drip liquid over that. "Your handler also made us aware of your desire to die. Don't you know how much we value you? You have already done so much that your death would truly be mourned. You're very special, Aurora. Just like all the others. You all have brilliant purpose."
She wanted to blink as he began to rub the cloth over her eye but she wanted her sight back more. Her eye twitched as the cloth ran over her eyeball, as if wiping off some dust, and she winced when he did the same to her other eye. The cloth was slowly removed from across her face and she blinked several times. "It's still fuzzy," she said, looking around the room.
"How bad?"
"A little. I can see, but it's still there."
He gave a nod and jotted something down. "That's the best I can do right now. We still need to run tests to see what caused the loss of vision, but that will take a short while. There are more pressing issues to address, and may I give you a bit of advice? When Sturin takes you for questioning, it's in your best interest to be compliant."
She watched as he pressed a button on the side of the chair only for the door to open and the men who had brought her to this room entered. "Please escort her back to her room," he said, motioning her to stand from the chair.
Even with her sight back, once she was on her feet one grabbed her arm in a firm grip. They led her to the door and as they were about to leave, the doctor spoke once more. "If anything were to go amiss, what would you refer to her as?" he asked, speaking to the men.
"Subject F679, sir."
"Remember that, Aurora," he said before gesturing for them to leave.
The name made dig her nails into the palm of her hands. No warmth, no identity. Just a number. She hated it, more than she hated Aurora. Her name was Briar, but the longer she spent in this prison, the less she felt like she knew who she was. Twenty six years and she had not aged. The man who had corrected her eyesight had. There were wrinkled around his eyes and his hairline had receded, not to mention that he now wore glasses, something which he hadn't done the last time she remembered seeing him.
The familiar white walls welcomed her back as she was pushed into the room and the door locked behind her. She went over to the corner and sat down, wrapping her arms around her knees and resting her head on them.
She hoped that the others had better luck that her.
She could feel the isolation already. Her poor vision couldn't hide that she was back, a prisoner once more, agonisingly waiting until they would once more rob her of the white room. How long would it take this time? No doubt they'd wash her like an animal, ridding her of any grasp of freedom she had attempted to keep, but would they force her through the entire process? She didn't think she'd be able to withstand that pain again.
The floor was cold against her skin as she felt around for the tell-tale sign of the paper gown. It was to the right of her, and she gripped it tightly before she slowly rose to her feet, steadying herself against the wall. It didn't provide her with much protection or warmth but the gown brought her some comfort as she paced about the room.
Twelve paces long, seven wide.
Windowless.
Empty.
Silent.
She was curled in a corner when the door opened and footsteps approached her. There was no point in fighting as they grabbed her by the upper arms and led her out the room, her feet meeting cold floor after cold floor. The corridor was long and when a door in front of them was opened, she knew where they had taken her.
"Ah, yes, I see the concern they have," he spoke once the door had been closed. "Follow my voice and come sit in the chair."
The chair was cold and squeaked when she sat on it, her gown crinkling beneath her. Putting the gown on had been the right decision.
"I hear you went on a little adventure," he said, his hands prodding around her eyes. "But your eyes are very peculiar. I don't think they were because of that. Were there any indications?"
"Pain, in my head," she mumbled.
"We will have to observe that. Don't want anything to happen to our little Aurora -- which reminds me, I hear you had a little slip-up with your handler when he found you. Do you remember the other choice?" His fingers were pressing into her temples as if trying to find a specific spot. She remained silent. "I was wondering when I'd experience your stubbornness again. Nevertheless, the abrupt hiccup we've experienced can easily be remedied."
When his fingers touched just beneath her hairline, she jerked away in pain. "Odd," he commented. She could hear him move and then some papers rustling. "We'll have to check all those spots, make sure it's not consistent. But I'm still waiting on your answer. Do you remember the other choice?"
She remembered as clear as day. Though she hated the cruel humour behind the choice of Aurora, at least it gave her some form of identity. The other choice, the one she had been called right at the start, didn't give her that small comfort. She had swore to herself to never speak it again, and she wasn't prepared to go back on that. Not when she craved death over remaining in this prison.
A cloth being draped over her eyes startled her. "What happened to the girl who used to answer all questions willingly? Need I promise you something in exchange? I'm afraid that due to, ah, difficulties, I cannot arrange a small get-together with the others," he said, smoothing the cloth over her right eye before liquid began to soak it. "Keep your eyes open."
"They escaped," she said.
"Ah, so you do speak. Yes, as I'm sure you're frighteningly aware, we had a rather big mishap last night, but rest assured, their handlers are returning them just as swiftly as you were." He moved over to her left eye and began to drip liquid over that. "Your handler also made us aware of your desire to die. Don't you know how much we value you? You have already done so much that your death would truly be mourned. You're very special, Aurora. Just like all the others. You all have brilliant purpose."
She wanted to blink as he began to rub the cloth over her eye but she wanted her sight back more. Her eye twitched as the cloth ran over her eyeball, as if wiping off some dust, and she winced when he did the same to her other eye. The cloth was slowly removed from across her face and she blinked several times. "It's still fuzzy," she said, looking around the room.
"How bad?"
"A little. I can see, but it's still there."
He gave a nod and jotted something down. "That's the best I can do right now. We still need to run tests to see what caused the loss of vision, but that will take a short while. There are more pressing issues to address, and may I give you a bit of advice? When Sturin takes you for questioning, it's in your best interest to be compliant."
She watched as he pressed a button on the side of the chair only for the door to open and the men who had brought her to this room entered. "Please escort her back to her room," he said, motioning her to stand from the chair.
Even with her sight back, once she was on her feet one grabbed her arm in a firm grip. They led her to the door and as they were about to leave, the doctor spoke once more. "If anything were to go amiss, what would you refer to her as?" he asked, speaking to the men.
"Subject F679, sir."
"Remember that, Aurora," he said before gesturing for them to leave.
The name made dig her nails into the palm of her hands. No warmth, no identity. Just a number. She hated it, more than she hated Aurora. Her name was Briar, but the longer she spent in this prison, the less she felt like she knew who she was. Twenty six years and she had not aged. The man who had corrected her eyesight had. There were wrinkled around his eyes and his hairline had receded, not to mention that he now wore glasses, something which he hadn't done the last time she remembered seeing him.
The familiar white walls welcomed her back as she was pushed into the room and the door locked behind her. She went over to the corner and sat down, wrapping her arms around her knees and resting her head on them.
She hoped that the others had better luck that her.