Page 30 of Twisted Heathens
“Not yet,” I reply.
There are eight pills in my stockpile now. It’s a good start, but still not enough. How much more of this can I take? Each second spent breathing, thinking, feeling… it’s agony. Even speaking takes effort. My lips are numb and my brain is detached. More and more, I’m hearing whispers that I can’t run from. Stockpiling meds is starting to get to my sanity.
“Clock’s ticking, Brooklyn. You need to choose something.”
Death. I choose fucking death. And if she bangs on for a second longer, I’ll bring her along with me. I glance up at the blinking CCTV camera. Are they watching right now? Whoever they are. I’ve yet to find a single room without any cameras, spare the bedrooms. There must be thousands of hours of surveillance. What happens to it all?
If I were to kill her, they’d take one look at the video and throw me in a maximum-security prison. Technically speaking, it’s where I should have ended up anyway. If the prosecutors are to be believed. My state-designated defence lawyer argued otherwise, given the circumstances around my… crime. Throw the word insanity in there and everything changes.
“What about a double major? Gives you some more flexibility.”
It must be tiring to constantly try and fail to instil positivity in us lot.
“English and History,” I blurt, latching onto my first thought.
Those were the two least objectionable classes out of the two days of boredom. And at least one of them features some entertainment. I recall the way Eli’s eyes tracked over me, green darkening with desire as he pressed on my wound, fascinated by my visible pain. Fuck, I relished that sting. Even when it didn’t come from my own hand.
Mariam claps enthusiastically. “Excellent! Good choices.”
I nod, trying to play along even when every fibre in my body is screaming otherwise. Eight pills. By this time next week, I’ll have a stash big enough to send me into cardiac arrest. Just a little bit longer, I need to remain focused. These guys and their tempting sins, it’s fun while it lasts but nothing can sway me from my goal. Nobody is worth sticking around and enduring this sickness for.
Remember what happened to the last person you fell in love with.
You’re poison, Brooklyn. Deadly.
Abruptly standing, I almost knock the coffee table over in the process. Anxiety grips me as I grasp at my chest, fighting to breathe. The voice whispers through the room, sounding far too real.
“What did you just say to me?” I yell.
Mariam flinches back, mouth open in shock.
“Just… well done for choosing. Are you quite alright?”
Swivelling my head, my eyes scour the room. Nothing. There’s nobody. Just us two. “Sorry. My bad.” I sink back down into my seat, deflating quickly.
The voice… it was so real. Not just an inner chatter, but actually audible. And my biggest mistake? Fucking reacting. Now she’s looking at me with bemusement, like I’m a ticking time bomb about to explode and decimate us all.
“Are you hearing voices, Brooklyn?”
I swallow hard. “Not since before Clearview. I just misheard you.”
What a stupid mistake. Never react, that’s the trick. Stuff it all down. Have I just screwed everything up? What if she doesn’t let me out or puts me in solitary? Fuck, I need to fix this. I scramble to make up some convincing bullshit.
“I’m excited to start learning. I really want to turn my life around,” I exclaim, putting on my best voice and forcing the bright smile onto my face. My nails cut into my palms.
“Well, that’s good.” She’s still eyeing me cautiously.
“So… I have reading I should be getting on with,” I prompt.
“Of course. I won’t keep you any longer.”
I bolt for the door. Nothing will remedy this, I just need to escape before I get myself in any more shit. It’s not surprising really, I’ve had all the other symptoms of abusing my medication; the sickness, cold sweats, insomnia. The voices were bound to come back too once I stopped taking it.
Just breathe. Only one more week. It’ll all be over soon.
I manage to get outside before I double over, grasping at any available air. That was close. Too close. Got to keep going. Maintain the image. I’m so near being able to get what I want, I can’t afford to lose this opportunity.
What people don’t tell you is that you can’t show any weakness to shrinks. They’ll jump on any excuse in these places. Before you know it, you’re restrained and sedated while they wheel you down the corridor to solitary confinement. Loneliness is a foreign concept until you’ve experienced that intimidating slice of hell.