And everything, once again, goes black.
Chapter 42
I watch the ticking of the clock against the wall. Tick. Tick. Tick. I stare at it, using the moving hand as a kind of hypnotism to unravel my current hypnotism.
I woke up in another bed, but this room is different. The walls are brighter, lighter and there are curtains around me. There is a woman with dark hair that wears a black and white gown that stands at the end of my bed, staring at me. She has been staring at me for a while, but she doesn’t ask me questions. She occasionally writes something down and I know that she is evaluating me. But why?
The only way to figure it out is to focus on that clock. To breathe in and out, to remain calm and thoughtless. I remember my name, I just can’t remember anything else. I don’t know where I am, no one will tell me. There is a tube attached to my nose and I know it is making me stronger. I don’t feel dizzy anymore, or sick anymore, I’m just confused.
Suddenly, I hear the door open behind the staring woman—and a tall, big-built woman with arms the size of logs comes towards me, flanked by a handsome man with black hair and short stubble.
Her face is familiar. Very familiar. I just can’t remember why.
“Thank you, Sister Joan,” the woman says. “I can take it from here.”
The staring woman nods, snarls into the air, and then turns around and leaves.
“Hello,” the woman says to me as she straightens and drops her hands to rest at her stomach. “Do you know who I am?”
I squint at her; there is something about her eyes, her smirk, her wrinkles—but I can’t focus on her long enough without blinking to myself. “No.”
“My name is Katherine,” she says. “This is Elijah.”
I scroll my eyes across to the handsome man that stands beside her and he stares at me in a different way than Katherine does. He looks at me sadly, longingly, as though he knows who I am and he’s been waiting to see me.
“Hello,” I say, I begin to rub my eyes.
“Don’t be alarmed,” Katherine says. “You were involved in an incident and suffered short-term amnesia as a result.”
“W-what incident?”
She smiles. “That’s not important. How are you feeling?”
“Better,” I whisper. “I think. What’s this?” I lift my hand up to my nose and I feel the tube.
“Vitamins,” she says. “And nutrients. So, you won’t throw up again.”
“Sorry about that,” I say, even though I can’t quite remember doing it. I rub my head, palming myself while squinting. “What happened to me?”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Elijah says.
I glance up at him and he’s exchanging a look with Katherine. “I was talking to someone,” I say. “A girl. She pinched me. I don’t know. Did I imagine that?”
“Yes,” Katherine says. “You’ve only been in the hospital. You haven’t been anywhere else.”
“Where are my parents?” I say. “Do I have parents?”
“Elizabeth, you are in an academy,” Katherine says. “You belong to a club. You live here. With us.”
“I do?” I whisper. “What do I do?”
“You worship God,” she says. “You are a Catholic. We all serve the lord.”
I nod. “That… makes sense. I guess.”
Katherine just slightly smirks at me, as though she’s proud. And then, a loud scream fills the air from across the room and Katherine turns her head.
“Excuse me,” she says.
As she wanders off to deal with the screeching noises that are suddenly frightening me, I bring my knees to my chest and I begin rubbing my temples.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Elijah says as he dashes over to me. “Elizabeth, look at me.”
I look up, seeing his face inches from mine and I flinch, scooting over to the other side of the bed.
“Salome is creating a distraction,” he says. “You remember Salome, don’t you?”
I shake my head.
“Okay, listen to me. Don’t trust her. Don’t trust Katherine. This isn’t an academy, it’s a cult, we’re not members here, we’re prisoners.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I say.
“The reason you can’t remember anything is because she’s been drugging you with anaesthetic for three weeks. It’s made you confused, but your memories will come back and when they do, you need to still act confused. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I say.
I don’t know why, but looking into his bright green eyes makes me want to succumb to any demand he issues me with. There’s something in those eyes, in that sparkle of greenly blue, that makes me feel less confused and more open to anything he says. But then, how do I know he’s not the one that’s tricking me? What if Katherine is speaking the truth and he’s trying to turn me against her?
Until I’m sure, I can’t be sure.
“I feel like I know you,” I say.
He takes a breath and then straightens himself. “You do. You just don’t remember it.”
Katherine suddenly returns, and mine and Elijah’s conversation is cut short.
“Sorry about that,” she says, she straightens down her jacket with a puff. “Some doctors are so incompetent.”
“We should get going,” Elijah says. “The meeting.”
“Ah, yes, the meeting,” Katherine says. “The incredibly stupid meeting scheduled for stupid o’clock. Very well. I’ll be back in the morning to check on you, Elizabeth. Get some rest.”
She turns mechanically and then puts one foot in front of the other as though someone is pulling each foot by a piece of string. Elijah’s eyes meet mine for a second and he gives me a hopeful smile before following her towards the door.
That was all very strange. If I could remember everything, it would probably make sense to me. But it doesn’t. I stare at the clock again, hoping this hypnotism thing might actually work, but all I see is a clock and all I hear is ticking. I fall down onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I stretch my arms in front of me, enjoying the illusion that I’m touching the ceiling, but then I see it.
It stands out like a white slash across a black board. I sit up and I turn my arm inwards, and there, just resting on my triceps is a small, green bruise. I stare at it for a moment and then my eyes go up slowly. I didn’t imagine it, I was in another place. A blonde girl did pinch me and none of it was a dream. Why would Katherine lie? Maybe she didn’t know? But then, how did I get into that other room in the first place?
I sigh and fall back down onto my bed.
If only I could remember.
Chapter 43
I stand at the window of my small cubical, watching the rain pour down with my arms wrapped around my chest. I’m wearing a long, grey gown with long sleeves that I found in a drawer beside my bed. The tube has been removed from my nose now and I’ve drinking liquids constantly to keep my strength up. The doctor visited me not long ago and placed a Velcro strap around my arm to test my blood pressure, which he said was a little low, but nothing to worry about. I’m still not sure where I am.
Am I in a hospital? Or am I in a medical centre inside of the academy that I belong to? There are other patients here, I can hear them talking to themselves, but they scare me so I’m keeping away from them.
I like watching the rain. The rain is calming. It blends well with the star-lit sky above me. I stare at some of the stars that aren’t hidden by clouds and there’s something about one particular star that captures my attention. It is brighter than the rest, it is magnificently bright. It isn’t its brightness that makes me stare at it, it’s something else. It makes me want to remember something, or someone, but I can’t figure out who it is. It is like an itch inside of my brain that won’t go away. I’ve forgotten something, something important. Something strong that is fighting to come through. I drift my gaze to the moon instead, it is full and glowing, it brings a small smile out of me.
“Elizabeth.”
/> I flinch at the sound of my name, and I turn slowly, meeting the eyes of a small, pretty girl with raven hair and freckles.
“Hello,” I say awkwardly. “That’s a pretty gown.”
The girl just stares at me, and it’s only then that I realise her eyes are blood-shot and soaked with tears. Not only that, but her skin is a murky yellow colour. It’s not a normal colour, I have to blink at her to make sure I’m not seeing things.
“Where have you been?” she says.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say. “Do I know you? I’m suffering from short-term amnesia from an incident.”
“Suffering from what?” she asks, rubbing one of her eyes.
“Memory loss, I think,” I say. “I’m not really sure. What is your name?”
“Mary,” she mumbles.
“Hi, Mary. I’m Elizabeth.”
“I know,” she says and then tears begin streaming down her face. “You said I was going to get better, you said I wouldn’t die.”
“I don’t understand. I mean, did I? I did. I’m sorry,” I say, rubbing my head. “If I said that. But you’re not dead.”
“You lied!”
Her voice makes me jump, I fall backwards into the window, looking into her little eyes that are plagued with tears and sadness. She narrows her eyes at me, projecting a glare that is both sinister and heart-breaking; and then an elderly woman walks out of the shadows behind her and gently grips her shoulders.
“Go back to your cubical,” the woman tells her. “I need to talk to Elizabeth alone.”
Mary keeps her eyes on me as she accedes to the woman’s wishes, and swivels her body around her and limps away.
“I don’t understand,” I say.
“I know,” the woman says. “This isn’t your fault. You’ve been gone for a long time and a lot has happened. My name is Salome, I’m a friend.”
“That girl,” I say, looking over Salome’s head. “Is she alright?”
She takes a large breath and drops her eyes. “No, no she isn’t.”
“Can I do anything?”
She smiles for a moment as she lifts her eyes up. “You don’t remember this, but the night you disappeared, Mary was rushed to medical after she fell unconscious. Her back was severely infected. Basically, they used up all the antibiotics to save her, and last week she was returned into our group and put back in the field straight away.” She takes another large breath and crosses her arms. “Four days ago, she collapsed in the field and the bitch Joan continued to whip her. Two days ago, she started burning up again and she contracted septicaemia from one of her injuries. As a result, she’s suffering from organ failure, to be specific, liver failure. She hasn’t got long left, Elizabeth. She’s at high risk of contracting pneumonia if her liver doesn’t give up first. I had to fake a back injury just to be with her.”
I stare at her. I don’t know how to react to that. That poor girl. I don’t know her, but she’s still a young girl, a young girl with dreams and hopes, and innocence. I stand still, fighting the small tears that begin to form in my eyes. How can something so cruel happen to such a sweet person?
“What do you mean she was whipped?” I say quietly.
“That’s what they do here. They hurt us. They isolate us. They kill us.”
I shake my head, choking on my tears. “No.”
“You’re probably going to be released tomorrow,” she says. “So, anything you need to say to Mary needs to be said tonight. Even if you don’t know her, she knows you. And you’re all she has talked about. She needs you.”
I still shake my head, glancing towards the window. “No! Where am I?” I hold my head, spinning around in frustration. “What is this place?” I collapse against the wall, rocking back and forth as I can’t hold in the confusion and the pressure. “I want to go home.”
“Elizabeth,” her voice comes closer, calmer. But it doesn’t calm me, I’m too scared to look at her, I don’t know what is happening.
I start to ramble to myself, becoming lost in some never-ending darkness. I don’t even know what I’m rambling about, most of it is crying, but I can’t stop it.
“Elizabeth!”
A sharp, hard pain ignites across my cheek. My head is snapped sideways and it brings my ramblings to a pause. Salome pulls her hand back and I clutch my cheek tenderly while staring into her eyes.
“Get a grip, woman!” she says harshly.
I take a deep breath and my breathing pattern begins to ease. Even though that hurt like hell, it worked.
“Mary needs you,” she says. “I don’t care if you’re yourself or not, you will be there for her. You will hold her hand and you will tell her something great about the world. Got it?”
I nod.
“Good.”
Her hands go out and she helps me to my feet. I collect myself for a moment and then I softly follow her out of the cubical into the empty medical facility. Up ahead, I see Mary tucked up in a small bed, she looks exhausted and drained.
I don’t know how to make this better for her. I don’t know how to do any of this. I don’t know who I am, who I truly am.
But I know I have to try, for her. For this girl.
Because she doesn’t have long left.
Chapter 44
I pull a chair to sit beside Mary’s bedside and Salome sits on a chair opposite. The facility is quiet now as most of the other patients are fast asleep and all the doctors have left us. Mary just lays on her back, looking up at the ceiling while blinking.
“Isn’t there anything they can do?” I ask Salome.
She shakes her head. I glance down at Mary.
“Do you know why stars are called stars? It’s because—” I begin.
“Stop,” Mary says.
“What?” I say, offended.
“They’re called stars because they’re pointy,” she whispers angrily. “Everyone knows that.”
“Okay.”
I meet Salome’s eyes again and she points them downwards.
I take a deep breath and I try again. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there. I wanted to be, I did, but I couldn’t.”
Mary finally looks at me, her droopy eyes still blink as she rubs them. “Why? Because of your incident?”
“Partly. I was asleep. And I couldn’t wake up.”
“I could have woken you up.”
I smile. “True, but, I was in a deep, deep sleep.”
“I did what you said, Elizabeth,” she says sweetly. “I was kind.”
I wipe a tear that falls down my cheek. “Were you?”
She nods. “I knew you would come back. Even though they never come back, I knew you would.”
“It’s true,” Salome whispers. “No matter how much we tried to tell her you were never coming back, Mary remained persistent that you would.”
“How would you know that?” I say.
“Because you’re different,” she says. “You’re not like the others, not like Ruth. You’re strong and you made me a promise a long time ago, and you said you never break your promises.”
I want to ask who Ruth is, but now is probably not the best moment. “I did?”
“Yes. You just can’t remember it. But you’ll remember.”
“I hope so,” I say. “It seems like there’s a lot of memories with you that I’ve missed.”
“Why did you lie?” she suddenly asks. “You said that people live long lives. You said I wouldn’t die.”
“You’re not going to die.”
“That’s not what Katherine said.”
“Katherine is just trying to scare you,” Salome interjects.
Mary shakes her head and her eyes gently go back up the ceiling as she sinks into her bed. I look over her skin again, my eyes becoming even more teary as her skin gently glows underneath the lampshade. The murky yellow in her skin is tainted with an illness I’ve not yet understood.
Suddenly, Mary jerks up and her hands eagerly reach out for a bowl beside her bed, she leans her face into the bow
l, coughing out blood into it. I meet Salome’s gaze with terror as she just sits there calmly, as though she has seen Mary do this hundreds of times. She throws up the blood for a while and then Salome passes her a tissue to wipe her mouth.
“I’m not getting better,” Mary cries. “Please tell me the truth.”
“Okay,” I say. “The truth is, you’re very sick. And even though all the doctors really want to help you get better, they can’t.”
“Because I’m too sick?” she says.
“Yes,” Salome says, she begins choking on her words, finding them hard to bring out. “You’re very sick.”
“It’s okay,” Mary says. “Does that mean that I won’t be whipped anymore?”
To that, Salome stands and wipes her eyes while walking across the room. I watch as she cries silently to herself in the corner, she holds onto the wall for support. Mary must really mean a lot to her.
“I didn’t want her to be sad,” Mary says.
“We’re all a bit sad,” I say quietly.
“Why?” Mary whispers. “I’m going to heaven. That’s what the bible says.”
“Yeah but… you won’t be here and that’s why we’re sad.”
“Elizabeth,” she says.
“Hmm?”
“Will you lay with me? Just for a little while.”
I nod. “Sure.”
She moves over to the far side to make room for me to lay beside her. “Don’t panic if you hear me throwing up, okay? I do that a lot.”
“Okay.”
I sit against the headboard and she rests her head against my shoulder. I gently run my fingers through her knotted hair as her body begins to tremble. To my surprise, Mary grabs the hand that is soothing her head and she twists my hand until she can see my palm.
“They’ll never leave their mark on us,” she whispers as she observes the scar engraved into my skin. It’s the first time I’ve noticed it and I wonder how I got it. “Their actions are their karma and how we react is ours. They can never take our kindness.”
“That’s lovely,” I say. “Who told you that?”
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