Switched and Fears

by Shannon Rieger

When I peered into the crevice, the red light glowed for a moment and then went out. I could see nothing more inside.

  Commotion grabbed my attention away from the strange critter as I heard dreadful screams from the hall. The woman’s voice was hoarse as the door to her cell opened. She screamed like that before they had even touched her?

  I crept to the door to peer through the small opening between the vision panel and metal door and watched as the woman was wrenched from her cell, her breaths rasping and her eyes wide.

  She thrust her body towards the ceiling and the guard tried to hold her but she was strong. She let out a breath and stopped for a moment, stunned as she saw someone approaching. I moved in closer to see better but they moved just out of sight for a moment. I waited for movement as she wailed.

  I held my breath, my body trembled and my eyes were wild in anticipation; I was likely next. She blubbered inaudibly.

  Pake came from my right, and scared me as he walked past my window.

  His muscles bulged as he charged towards her. He pulled at his shirt to untuck it from his pants and rolled up his sleeves. “Are ya ready, Sunshine?” he said to the woman.

  She wriggled to be free from the guard’s grasp at the sight of Pake standing before her.

  Pake’s sheer size made her shrink from my sight, hidden behind his brute stance.

  When she continued to bellow, he laughed and said, “Shut your trap!”

  He turned back as if looking for someone down the hall and his nostrils flared.

  I heard Mr. Parr’s voice echo off the corridor walls.

  “Yep, I’m coming. She’s givin’ old Atkinson here a run for his money.” He laughed as if it were a game.

  Atkinson grabbed onto her arms as Pake grabbed at her legs. She flipped her body, fighting them.

  “Come on, Inmate! Tub time!” Pake’s voice was full of contempt. The connotation in the words ‘tub time’ suggested it was a punishment, rather than for cleaning.

  “No!” she screamed. “I will tell you what you want to know. I will! I promise!”

  She had never told me what they wanted from her. Why give me the advice to tell them what I did, when she hadn’t done the same?

  I wanted to scream out to her but the thought of my punishment, the torn skin healing on my back sealed my mouth. I wiped my clammy hands on my soiled shirt.

  Officer Chase emerged from a hallway that always loomed in darkness. Standing at the junction, he watched as Officer Pake and Officer Atkinson wrenched on the woman’s arms and legs. She pulled on Atkinson’s mask which only infuriated Pake. “Leave the mask! We are not catching the diseases you carry!”

  Chase cringed as his eyes shifted from the girl to the guards. The woman adjusted her shirt as her lips trembled. She clawed at the guard’s cheeks and this only made the crazed man angrier and he let out a primal scream so wretched that I clapped my hands over my ears.

  The halls echoed something fierce and then prisoners from another cell block hooted with excitement. They were almost encouraging Pake to torture her. Soon it will be my turn.

  As the girl passed my cell, she noticed me and stopped fighting, mouthed for me to help her and I clasped my hand over my mouth in horror.

  Her brown eyes bulged and were as big as dinner plates, and she had an inability to blink. Her stare settled into my soul as I succumbed to the fact that I couldn’t help her. Her thin body was dirty like mine and scrapes on her knees bled.

  Defeated, she crumpled, sinking to the ground in exasperation. I lowered my hands and placed them against the cold metal door.

  “Get up!” Pake bellowed. When she didn’t, he reached for her long, brown hair and dragged her along the corridor.

  She looked back at me and yelled, “Help me! Why don’t you do something?!”

  “Stop!” I yelled. What was I supposed to do?

  Upon seeing me at the narrow window in my cell door, Officer Jaxson straightened his posture, put on a stern militant facial expression instead of the one I had caught him sporting moments before and he cleared his throat.

  He sunk into the shadows as he watched the woman being dragged against her will. Her wild appearance, quaking screams and Chase’s choice to do nothing to stop it angered me. Do something. Why is Chase letting them do this to her?

  I lost sight of her as she shuffled along but her tormented screams were no less frightening. I fought my emotions from exploding. The risk of this emotional break only made my pulse race and my breath quicken.

  At the sound of a large metal door slamming, the voices fell more distant. At some point, Chase had slipped away into the dark shadows of the hall.

  I sunk into my cell, onto the cold uneven stone floor and the hay pile seemed smaller now. I felt hopeless. My chin trembled. I thought about what was coming for me. My torture would soon follow. They’d come for me, too. I wish I were living as that beetle; at least it could hide in the cracks.

  I heard whirring whispers in a corner and I noticed a few beetles had come out of the cracks near the ceiling to stare down at me. I hid my face and crumpled into the corner, pressing my fists to the side of my head and rocking. The women’s screams echoed off the walls for a minute or two, and then, abruptly, the sounds stopped, as if she had been clobbered into unconsciousness.

  It was at this moment, that the hooting from the other prisoners, men and women alike, stopped. Silence fell as if a switch had been turned off. I managed to take a deep breath in, calming my booming heart.

  I heard a shuffle in the hall and noticed the shadow darken the area outside my cell. I didn’t catch who had been looking in at me. The person shuffled down the hallway. I remained in my cell, not brought to the torture chamber. If I didn’t tell them soon, that was likely my fate. I still couldn’t remember.

  Hours later, the big metal door groaned open and the woman was carried over Officer Pake’s shoulder. Her arms dangled against his back. Her long brown hair was drenched, her hair dripping onto the back of his uniform pants.

  He opened her cell door and dropped her inside. Upon locking up, he stopped at my cell door and grinned at me. His muscles bulged before strolling down the hall.

  “You are next, little girl,” he said to me, as he passed. Pake winked at me and began to whistle as he strolled towards the exit.

  Jaxson had emerged from the shadows and made eye contact with me. He came to my door. He said nothing when he noticed movement as the door at the end of the hall opened once more.

  “Hi, Mr. Parr. What brings you here?” Pake asked.

  “Just had notice from X that there has been a change in the visit date. Something Dr. Cook has said to them. I wanted to ask Officer Chase if he knows anything about that.”

  The door clanked open again. “There you are, Mr. Parr.” I ducked from view for a moment as Dr. Cook joined the conversation.

  I snuck a peak through the cuff port. Jaxson had moved to block my cell from the approach of Mr. Parr and Dr. Cook. I could no longer hear Officer Pake, but I figured he still stood there. The side of Jaxson’s face blocked the visitors from my view. I listened to the conversation.

  Dr. Cook said, “I told them that we had it under control, Matthew.”

  She was using Mr. Parr’s first name. Just in front of Officer Chase, I could see Dr. Cook’s hand stroke Mr. Parr’s arm. I saw Jaxson’s jaw clench as he noticed her flirtatious gesture, to go along with her soft voice.

  “I told you that I wouldn’t let them come down here…we have it under control. I have pushed the date to May 1st. Don’t worry.”

  “I wasn’t worried.”

  “Yes, you were. And now, you and I have to have a little talk about what I need to do with the inmate. There are tests I have promised to run and X wants this work up done before the visit.”

  “Tests?”

  “That’s a discussion for your office, Matthew.”

  Silence commenced when the main door closed with an echoing clank at the end of the hallway.

  Officer Ch
ase turned to peer at me, and then he exited through the shadowed hallway.

  Chapter Ten

  My eyes flutter behind my lids, no doubt, as I find a moment to sleep and I know it’s a dream when I begin to experience it. The calm I feel for the place I am residing is ‘home’, despite the noise.

  It brings a feeling far different from those I feel when I am in the prison. I urge myself to spend time enveloping myself with the pleasant sights and sounds of the dream. The buzzing and clanks of the machines from within the walls is soothing. The rumbling of gears has built memories for me. I lay in a small room. Cracks zagged from the corner near the ceiling.

  “Saige…”

  I woke, damp with sweat, and sat up with a start that brought a pain to my head like no other. The muscles in my back sent fire to my extremities as I moved. The tears that each strike of the whip drove into my skin stung and burned. It became the whole of my world.

  “Sorry, I startled you…” he whispered.

  I raised my head to see who spoke. When I realized it was Officer Chase, I pushed myself away from where he squatted next to me.

  What time was it?

  “I want to put ointment on your back.”

  “No.” When the word escaped my mouth, I was astounded by my boldness. Chase's expression was not of anger, but he averted his eyes. Nice try. I am not falling for it.

  “I have to take you to the Program. You will sit all day once more. Then the interrogation room.”

  “So, the same as yesterday then.” I began to get up and he took my hand, to my astonishment, and helped me to my feet. I hadn’t wanted him to help me, but I don’t think I could stand on my own. I felt woozy. I stumbled and he took my arm to lower me to the ground. I wanted him to go away. The nausea kept me from speaking.

  I threw up. I wished that I had thrown up on the officer’s shoes, but I missed him and got it on the front of my shirt.

  “I can’t let you shower,” he muttered.

  I ignored him. I sat there for a moment and then got up. “Let’s go then.” I waited for him to grab onto my face. Or my arms. Or to grab the cuffs and slam them around my wrists, yanking me down the hall in anger. Instead, he placed the cuffs on my wrists and carried the chains as I walked beside him as if we were out for a stroll in a park.

  When we got to the Program, I stared at that spot on the wall as he locked the chains.

  “You need to take this.”

  I didn’t want to take the pills anymore. “What is it for?”

  “The virus.” When I hesitated, he urged, “It’s an antibiotic…it’ll prevent you from getting sick. And the fact that you just threw up in your cell…”

  “I think the pill is what is making me sick.”

  “No. You are likely carrying a virus. You are likely throwing up because you are sick from said virus.”

  He offered the cup to me but I didn’t take it.

  “They are doctors. They know what they are doing.”

  “Do I have to take it?”

  “Yes. Doctor’s orders. Just like I am wearing a mask when I am with you. It’s what the doctor has ordered.”

  “Wouldn’t it be more of a torture to let me get sick rather than whip me?” I asked with a scowl.

  “They don’t want you dead, Inmate. They want you to confess. Then you serve your time.” He thought about it and then smirked, “I wouldn’t give them any ideas.” He chuckled but caught himself, and fidgeted with the buttons on his short-sleeved, black shirt. His dark uniform pants were dusty at the knees where he had knelt down to see me in my cell.

  I sat and placed my hands on the table. “Take the med,” he said, as he locked the chains to the ring. I put it in my mouth. He pulled gloves on and then placed his hand on my chin and brushed his thumbs along my lips. “Open. I have to check for the pill. I don’t want you to…get sick.”

  I opened my mouth. He stared at my eyes instead of my mouth. I don’t think I caught him glance into my mouth at all. Satisfied, he released my chin. “I will see you with bread and water in a few hours.”

  I didn’t move. Just as he turned, he glanced back for a moment and I took the moment to say, “Antibiotics don’t fight viruses you know. They fight bacteria.”

  He studied my face. “It’s a preventative. A treatment.”

  “Which is it?”

  Unsatisfied, he walked out, locking the door behind him.

  I sat there for four hours in isolation. I struggled to remove my pants to use the attached bucket on my seat. It was humiliating.

  When Officer Chase came back to the room, he placed the bread and water on the table. “See the pill didn’t make you feel sick.”

  He said nothing more, upon hearing Mr. Parr’s approach, his voice echoing along the corridor, he hurried out of the room, and locked me inside. Jaxson spoke in whispers.

  Mr. Parr said, in his natural booming voice, “Then leave her in there longer, if you think she hates it. Listen, Jaxson, maybe she will tell you…she seems to be quite broken by your tactics. That whipping almost sent her into a daze. Someone who checked on her in the night said they thought she had gone into a coma.”

  “Yes, Sir, Mr. Parr. I think I am close.”

  “Okay, we will try it your way, Jaxson. Whip her harder. We are on a strict timeline. They call each night.”

  “Okay, Sir.”

  When Officer Chase came back only two hours later, he stood in front of the door, his hands on his hips. He waited. I didn’t give him the satisfaction. I didn’t want to fight. The medication made me calm and I wanted to wallow in it.

  “I am going to have the nurse look at your wounds.”

  “Why am I seeing her again?”

  “If you let me put ointment on you, you likely wouldn’t have to go so often.”

  I glared at him. “If you hadn’t whipped me, you wouldn’t have to worry about my wounds.”

  He shushed me, and the panic in his eyes made my heart race. Someone must have been listening in.

  I listened to the hall as he paused and cocked his head. No one approached.

  “Come,” he repeated. Was he Jekyll or Hyde?

  He unlocked the chains and then gently took me to the doorway. I glanced back at the beauty through the window, allowing me that one moment only in all the hours I sat.

  The nurse’s door was open when we arrived. I walked through and this time Chase came with me. The nurse stared at him. “What are you doing?”

  “I want to be here.”

  “Why? We aren’t trading secrets.”

  He smiled at her for a brief moment. “I know. I just want to see how her wounds are…healing.”

  “Why? You are the one causing them.” I almost grinned. I had just said that! This response also suggested that she didn’t condone what he had done to me.

  He didn’t say anything and walked out the door.

  “It’s okay. I sent him away. Lay down on your stomach. Maybe I can check you over slowly to give you some time to rest. I am going to check on your wounds. Is that okay?”

  I nodded.

  She raised the shirt and dabbed some ointment on them. “They are healing quite nicely actually.” How was that possible? The grime and germs of this place could only spread infections.

  “It’s not up to me,” she said when I didn’t respond. “It’s not my call. When you come here, especially after what you’ve done—”

  “What does it say I’ve done?” I glanced at the door and heard Jaxson being given his medication. He chatted, quietly, with Mr. Bradley in the hall.

  “Well, you know what you’ve done…”

  “What does the file say I have done…”

  She came around the table to study my face.

  “You committed murder…”

  “Murder?” This was serious. I recalled what the girl in the next cell said. The crime could overwhelm my mind and a distorted reality could take its place. If I had murdered someone, then I could have tried to forget. Amnesia. And then I tho
ught about the consequence of such a crime. “But who does it say I murdered?”

  “That information is in the police report, not in our records.”

  I felt a tear at the corner of my eye. Officer Chase stood at the doorway and watched me wipe the tear. I turned my head to lay on my right cheek. I waited for the nurse to finish.

  As Jaxson took me back to the Program room, I noticed his eyes were not soft like they had been. In the hall, once the smooth white door closed, he yanked on the chains as he pulled me down the hall. My hands were like ice and I shivered as I walked along the corridor. With each step, the stone floor dug into the soles of my feet. Eventually, we went through another doorway, and my feet had a break from the uneven stone pavers as cracked cement was used as flooring in this corridor.

  The world beyond the corridor windows caught my attention. Jewels hung from the trees. Berries and flowers on the bushes in the gardens. The warmth streamed through the windows.

  He pulled harder and harder, making me jerk my way behind him. I fell to my knees with a yelp. “Get up, Inmate!”

  “I’m trying, Officer…”

  He pulled on the chains again, making me lower my body to the ground so that he could lean in to stare at me on the floor. “You are on the floor like a dog.” His voice mimicked the hiss of a wasp hovering over rotting fruit. “Dogs can’t talk. Don’t speak to me. Don’t make a sound. Don’t let one tear fall,” he threatened. “Tears are for the weak, Inmate, and if you want to make that transfer then you had better tell the truth, face the consequences. You had better figure out how you are going to appease Mr. Parr.”

  He let go of the chains and I fell back to the ground. How do I stop the tears when it comes from the confusion and fear? My knee bled.

  “Get up.” His words were like whips.

  I gasped for air and stumbled to my feet. The world seemed to spin around me. Cold shivers shot through my body and both of my hands and legs were trembling. I took a moment to gather my thoughts, but even this proved a hassle for him and he yanked on the chains. Conflicting thoughts corrupted my mind.

  I followed, squeezing my eyes shut and contorting my face because of the scrapes on my knees and wrists. Swallowing the pain and ignoring it the best I could was my only option. But sick of having to deal with all this, I decided to refuse to acknowledge the pain and get on with this part of my torment to the best of my ability.