The Sinner Program

by B L Teschner

  “To the rehabilitation room,” he said matter-of-factly. “Eventually. For now, you’ll be put in your own room until you’re ready to be seen for the procedure.”

  I finally gathered the strength to open my eyes. The doctor was towering above me with his hands on his hips, a fluorescent light behind his head, its bulb flickering off and on. “Procedure?” I repeated.

  “Yes, a very successful one.”

  “Please,” I said, licking my lips to try and replenish their moisture. “Don’t do this. I just—”

  “Let’s take him to his room,” he told the guards, ignoring my pleas.

  The guards got on either side of me and lifted me up, cradling me between them. “He was a hard one to force down the ladder,” Troy said.

  “I’m getting too old for this,” Steven complained. “We need another way to go about this.”

  Dr. Sigtile tsked. “Apparently our ways are fine. They’ve worked this long; there’s no sense in changing them. At least that’s what your aunt keeps telling me.”

  “Please,” I begged them as they carried me along, “just let me go.”

  I felt the cold hand of Dr. Sigtile land against my back. “Don’t worry, Dwayne; we’ll fix you right up. I promise.”

  * * *

  Millie

  Dwayne had been gone for two days, and there was still no sign of when he would come back. Toby and Connor said his stuff was still at his bed just like he had left it the last time he was there.

  More and more kids were slowly being taken away, only to be returned in wheelchairs to the cafeteria or the club room; they even brought them into the gym and parked them on the side like they were actually competent enough to watch the other kids play basketball. By the next morning they were back to normal, retreating to their previous groups of friends like nothing happened. Their friends—the ones who hadn’t been taken yet—treated them like the plague and didn’t trust them anymore. This led to the kids who were “fixed” to band together in their own happy-go-lucky groups, which were getting larger as the days went by. The groups of sinners were dwindling.

  Kids were in a constant panic, and some even tested their abilities to escape by trying unsuccessfully to break out windows with chairs. Another group tried to gang up on the burly guards, but they were quickly put back in their place when they pulled out their taser guns and stuck them against their sides. Another kid tried to break into Martha’s office to find a phone, only to find the secretary Jan instead. It didn’t matter what anyone tried, the staff was always one step ahead of them. The ones who were disobedient were removed immediately, taken away to some unknown part of the building. We knew their fate; they would return to us “fixed” like the rest of them were.

  Layla and I cried a lot, and so did Connor. Layla cried even more when Cory came back in a wheelchair. Toby was the only strong one in our group. His arms were often around me in comfort, trying his best to keep me together for the duration of our stay in the program. It was like we were all waiting for our turn in the electric chair.

  I snuggled against Toby’s side in a large overstuffed chair in the corner of the club room. “It’s all my fault,” I said, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen down my cheek. “It’s my fault Dwayne’s gone. If I hadn’t given him my brownie he would be here with us right now.”

  Layla was sitting in a chair across from me with her knees pulled up to her chest. Even through all of this, she still managed to have mascara and lipstick on. “No,” she said, resting her chin on the top of her knee. “He was going to be taken eventually anyway.”

  “Don’t say that,” Toby barked. “We don’t know who will be taken and who won’t be.”

  Layla scoffed. “You honestly think we all won’t end up in wheelchairs like the rest of them?”

  “I’m trying to be positive,” he told her.

  “Positive… Hmm. Well, I’m positive that Cory is a completely different person now since he’s been back. I even tried to solicit him earlier today and he turned me down.” Her head shook at the thought. “Can you believe that? He turned me down. Not too long ago he was telling me I was the best sex he’s ever had.”

  “Well he probably hasn’t had a lot,” Toby told her.

  She glared at him for a long moment, but then her lips turned up with a reminiscent smile. “That sounds like something Dwayne would have said to me.”

  Toby sighed. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Talk about Dwayne like he’s gone.”

  “Well look around, Toby. He is gone.”

  “We’re gonna find him.”

  Connor returned from the bathroom and sat down in a chair next to Layla. “What are you guys talking about?” he asked.

  “Dwayne,” Layla answered flatly.

  “What about him?”

  “We’re talking about how we’re going to find him,” Toby put in before Layla could.

  “Maybe they sent him home,” Connor suggested.

  We were all quiet. Layla looked over at him. “Do you really think that?” she asked softly.

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Toby sighed. “Yeah, his stuff’s still here, buddy. You know that.”

  “What a bunch of losers,” Jill said, coming over to us. “Especially Connor. Unfortunately I have to be in group therapy with the little shrimp.”

  “Hey shut the hell up,” Layla shouted.

  Jill’s arms crossed in front of her. “Make me, tramp.”

  “Oh I’ll make you.” Layla jumped up and got right in Jill’s face. “What’s your problem anyway, huh? Coming over here to start crap for no reason.”

  “I just see the little loser gang over here talking quietly to yourselves like you’re hiding something. You got something you know that you want to fill the rest of us in on?”

  “Like what?” I asked. “What would we possibly know that you don’t?”

  “Why don’t you tell me?”

  “Go back to your stupid friends,” Layla ordered her. She looked around Jill’s side and then focused back on her. “Looks like your group is getting smaller by the day. You getting nervous, Jill?”

  “Stop,” I ordered. “You guys are gonna get in trouble.”

  Jill’s lips pursed. “You better watch yourselves,” she warned. She looked over at me. “After all, I know where you sleep.” With that threat she spun around and went back to the other side of the room to sit with her friends.

  “What was that all about?” Connor asked.

  “She’s just scared,” Toby answered. “We all are.”

  * * *

  I couldn’t be further on the opposite side of my mattress. The blanket was pulled up to my nose and my eyes were stretched open, taking in the horrible sight of Sammy in the bed next to mine. Just minutes before, Steven had wheeled her in to the darkness of our room, refraining from turning on the overhead lights. He threw back the blanket and scooped her out of the wheelchair, laying her on her side and pulling the blanket back over her lump of a body before leaving.

  She was facing me. It was hard to make out the features of her face, but I already knew her eyes were open slits that were void of life. I knew she couldn’t communicate; I knew there was drool on her pillow. Her breathing was slow and deliberate, and she pushed it past the thick saliva in her open mouth, exhaling a rattling sound.

  Another one of us was gone.

  Eleven

  Toby

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked Millie.

  She tried to shrug it off. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Come and get me next time,” I offered gently. “I could have sat with you, made you feel safer.”

  She nodded as Connor pointed across the room. “Hey look, it’s the doctor.”

  We watched as he served himself a tray of scrambled eggs and pancakes, leaving as quickly as he came.

  “That guy’s weird,” Layla pointed out. “I’ve barely seen him since the day Martha introduced him.”

/>   “He has to be involved in what’s happening to us all,” Millie said. “He’s a doctor; he’s probably the one doing it.”

  Layla nodded. “He’s so stoic; it’s creepy.”

  “We should follow him,” I suggested. “They’re obviously keeping Dwayne and the others somewhere in the building. We haven’t been to the third floor. Maybe we should go up there and see.”

  “I’ve been up there already,” Layla said with a cock of her eyebrow. “Remember?” She turned her head to stare across the room at Cory, who was smiling and chatting up his table of friends, half of which were already wearing their new personalities like he was. “Not that he remembers,” she went on. “He acts like we were never together. He was in here for sex addiction; apparently his addiction is gone.”

  Connor leaned forward, pressing his chest against the side of the table. “I saw something last night.”

  Our focus went to him. “What?” I asked.

  “There was a kid puking in the bathrooms in our room, so I didn’t want to go in there. I went to use the bathroom in the hall when I heard some commotion on the first floor. I snuck down the stairs and saw one of the guards holding the arm of a girl. I’ve seen her before; I think she’s in your room, Layla.”

  “What does she look like?” Layla asked.

  “She has brown curly hair. She’s really short and she always looks mad for some reason.”

  Layla’s mind worked to make the connection. “I think I know who you’re talking about. She’s a loner; not sure what she’s here for. I’ve never talked to her.”

  “So what happened?” Millie asked Connor.

  “Well, it looked like she was bleeding on her arms.”

  “Bleeding on her arms?” Millie repeated, her voice raising.

  My hand came to rest on her back. “Shh, we don’t want anyone to hear our conversation.”

  “Sorry, I’m just getting nervous about this. Why was she bleeding?”

  “The guard said something about her hurting herself being disgraceful, so I think she did it to herself. She was crying, but he was holding onto her arm so tightly and telling her to shut up, so she tried to be quieter. He opened the door to Martha’s office and took her in there.”

  “Martha’s office?” I pondered aloud. “Why Martha’s office?”

  Connor shrugged. “I don’t know.” He looked around the room, twisting to see behind him. “But I don’t see her here.”

  My hand tapped the table in thought. “The guards have those retractable keychains. They pull them out to use their keys on the doors.”

  “So, what does that mean?” Millie asked.

  “It means it can be cut.”

  “You want to cut the keys off of one of the guards?” Layla asked with shock. “How in the world do you plan on carrying that plan out?”

  My eyes scanned the cafeteria. “I need to steal a knife from the kitchen.”

  “What?” Millie shrieked beside me. “No. Absolutely not.”

  “Do you want to find Dwayne or not?”

  “I do,” Connor spoke up.

  “Me too,” Layla added.

  Millie shook her head. “Yeah, but not at the cost of you being taken away like he was.”

  “I won’t get taken away,” I promised, looking over at her so she could see that my face was serious. My hand caressed her back. “I’ll be really careful. And besides, it’s only that old lady back there. She’ll be easy to hide from.”

  She sighed as a thought ran through her head. “If we’re going to steal a knife, then it should be me.”

  “What?” I scoffed. “No way.”

  “I’m literally in this program right now for stealing,” she told me matter-of-factly. “It only makes sense that I’m the one who should steal it.”

  I dropped my hand from behind her. “I won’t allow that.”

  “It makes sense,” Layla put in. “Millie is used to swiping stuff.”

  “I don’t want you to go,” Connor said across from her. “I’m afraid you’ll get caught.”

  “I won’t,” she assured him.

  “But didn’t you get caught when you stole before?”

  Millie smiled. “Yeah, but this is different. I didn’t care if I got caught before. Right now, my life—and all of yours—depends on me not getting caught.”

  We looked over to where the kitchen was. We could see the cook washing dishes off to the side, her back to the open doorway where Millie would go in.

  “I don’t like this one bit,” I admitted. “But if you think you’re the best one to pull it off, then I won’t argue.”

  She turned to face me. “I have to do this; I owe it to Dwayne.”

  My shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. “Okay. But you know they’re always watching us. There must be hidden cameras or something since they always know what we’re up to. I mean, they even knew we were in the club room that night… What if they see you?”

  “It’s a possibility, but there’s so much commotion going on in here that maybe they’re not paying too much attention.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  She stood up from the table. “If it looks like she’s going to turn around, make a scene to get her attention focused on the cafeteria.”

  “We will,” Layla promised. “I’ll chuck my tray at Jill; that’ll get something started.”

  Millie nodded, her eyes going to each one of us before she casually turned around and went to the kitchen. The girl had guts, that was for sure. She walked with her shoulders back and her head held high like she had absolutely nothing to hide. I imagined it was all an act. If she were to put on an air of guilt then people would notice. But if she acted casual then no one would give her a second thought.

  I surveyed the room as a lookout. No one was even paying attention. Well I thought that was the case, until my gaze stopped on Jill, who was glaring at me. Her eyes darted over to Millie and then back to mine; she knew we were up to something. I glared back, holding her stare, silently threatening her to stay quiet. If she were smart she would.

  Millie slipped out of sight. We held our breaths as the cook continued washing dishes, completely unaware of the intruder behind her. After the longest twenty seconds of my life, Millie came back out, holding the knife down at her side to hide it from anyone seeing it.

  She sat down beside me and handed it to me under the table, her hand trembling. “Here; take it.”

  I tried nonchalantly to make the exchange, leaning to the side and sliding the sharp blade down into the pocket of my jeans. “Wow,” I said as I placed my arm around her lower back. “I am thoroughly impressed.”

  “Gosh, me too,” Layla said.

  “I was so nervous you were gonna get caught,” Connor added.

  Millie let out an exhausted breath. “So was I.”

  “We had an audience, though,” I pointed out, my head nodding over at Jill who was still eyeing us with a scowl. “She watched you the entire time.”

  “Oh no.”

  My hand rubbed her back. “I wouldn’t worry about it. If she were going to rat you out she would have made a scene while you were in there.”

  Twelve

  Millie

  We were in the club room where our plan was about to be carried out. I was nervous; we all were. But we knew it had to be done. We were going to find our friend no matter what the cost.

  “Jill was glaring at me in our counseling session today,” Connor said. “I thought she was going to say something about this morning but instead she started reaming Dominic about the other kids changing. He shrugged her off, like everything that was going on was completely normal. There’s a guy in there who tortures animals and he was gone. She even asked about him and he didn’t address it. All he said was that their program was starting to work for everyone and he said not to worry, that he promised she would be fixed soon. She got all mad and stormed out of the room. He didn’t even try to stop her, he just rolled his eyes and started talking to us, going around the c
ircle one by one.”

  Thunder rolled outside of the window. “Right now, Jill’s the least of our worries,” Toby said. “So, are you clear on what the plan is?”

  Connor nodded with conviction. “Yeah. I’m scared though; I don’t want to get in trouble.”

  “You won’t be in trouble for crying,” Layla assured him. “Crying isn’t a sin.”

  “But I bet throwing a fit is,” he countered.

  “You’re not throwing a fit,” I told him. “You’re just going to start crying and pretend to hyperventilate.”

  “But what if they try to take me to the creepy doctor?”

  “You’re going to stop before that happens,” Layla said. “I’m going to help comfort you and it’ll make you calm down.”

  Connor’s head bobbed with a nod. “Right. Okay then, let’s just do this and get it over with.”

  The four of us eyed each other, exchanging downturned smiles.

  “I want to go home!” Connor yelled, starting the charade a lot quicker than we imagined he would; he was already drawing attention from the groups of kids in the room. His hands came to his face as he pretended to sob.

  I flew to his side and put my arm around him. “It’s okay. Shh, calm down.”

  “I want to go home!” His sobbing grew louder as he sucked in large gulps of air. “Please! Just call my dad!”

  Layla and Toby sprang into action and ran to the doorway, looking up and down the hall for help.

  “Guard!” Layla called. “Our friend is freaking out! He can’t breathe!”

  It took a solid minute of Layla’s frantic calls before Troy rushed in and came to Connor’s side. “What’s the problem?” he grumbled.

  With his hands on his face, Connor collapsed against me and I lowered him to the floor. “Dad! I want my dad!” He dragged in ragged breaths of air. “Please! I want to go home!”

  Troy kneeled beside him. “Stop it! You need to calm down or you’ll hyperventilate!”

  I stood back up as Connor continued the charade. Toby slid the knife from his pocket and leaned over, carefully pulling Troy’s keys out on their retractable line. I could hear whispers behind us as he placed the knife under it and held the cord tightly against it, breaking through it with one short slice. I admired how well he kept his cool as he placed both the keys and the knife back into his pocket. I knew the other kids saw, Jill included, but I didn’t care. I think they all knew we were doing something for the greater good. They weren’t going to say a word.