The stranger I knew

Chapter2:Freedom and Hell

Camilla’s POV:

“You ready, Thorne?”

Mrs. Eris, one of the dispensing nurses, is on duty for the daily check-ups.

The keys to the cells clank aggressively before she even uses it to open my metal door.

The metallic screech reverberates through the iron of the door and causes my head to spin.

The morning light really illuminates the room, it is as though the walls are glowing.

Even nature knows today is a good day.

Day 243.

My last day.

“I’m ready,” I reply.

I keep my voice completely devoid of emotions.

My bare feet are flat against the floor.

Mrs. Eris pulls the door open

The usual morning rituals are about to proceed, I seem to do it with so much fervor knowing that this is my last day.

“1,2,3,” I chant

Hair straightened.

Clothes straightened.

Once again, she does her usual raking; looking for an indent, a speck of flaw she could document on her clipboard, any micro-expression that could ruin this wonderful day for me.

I give her nothing but a flat blank stare.

She gives a final sigh.

“Thorne,” she utters, peering at her clipboard, “discharge protocol at nine, do not fail to consult Dr. Ezra for a final debrief before your release forms…understood?”

“Understood,” I reply.

More like you can shut up now.

“Thank you Mrs. Eris,” I say, this catches her by surprise. It rather disappoints her, because once again, she has no reason to flag me.

A single behavioral slip could elongate my stay to another thirty days of observation or even more.

I noticed that she left the door slightly opened. I knew that wasn’t a mistake, a classic trap.

She knows that she could get into trouble for making such a mistake; several junkies have tried to escape because of it.

But she does it anyway thinking I would try to get out by myself, an excuse to call the guards.

I stay where I am listening to the hum of the lightbulbs.

It is time.

I could hear footsteps becoming louder, nearing its destination, with keys jingling at every footstep.

Officer Trent’s thick knuckles knock on the metallic door.

When he realizes the door is open, he gives me a questioning look but doesn’t proceed with it.

“It's time, Thorne” he says from outside the gate, the passageway.

He still has his clipboard in his left hand, he mindlessly rubs his thumb across the top of the pen.

Click.

“Dr. Ezra is waiting for you”

Okay.

“Lead the way.” I reply.

I sigh, get up, and land on my feet from the bed.

He goes out of the door and I follow him shortly.

Walking down the corridor today feels so different.

As we walk, I can feel the stares of so many souls pressing on my back. I shake it off.

When it’s time to pass Molly’s room, we slow down at the sight of one another, and both share a little message through our stares.

“Camilla,” I turn to the sound of the familiar voice, Molly has brought out her hands from the metallic cage-like doors, I stick my hands through it and hold her hand so tight. I’m not sure I am going to let go.

“Alright,” says Officer Trent, he doesn’t seem to mind our little exchange, he quickly looks at his watch.

We continue walking until we get to the glass double doors that separated the residential wing from the administrative offices.

Officer Trent realizes he doesn’t have his keycard with him .

He looks at me.

“If you move or plan to move anywhere else, say goodbye to being free to go,” he warns me.

I nod my head and just sit down at one of the metallic benches three paces back, while he turns back to where we came from.

My eyes mindlessly scan the corridor in silence.

It continues scanning until I hear a sob.

What?

The voice sounds so familiar.

“H-How is he?”

Mrs Klein.

I stay perfectly still, because it would draw attention and try to listen more.

“You said you would tell me how he’s faring!!” She cries.

Who?

I quickly catch a glimpse and see Mrs. Klein.

Her normal stiff posture now shattered, she rests her elbows upon the wall and puts down her head as she’s on a phone call.

“At least he is taking his medications, that’s the least you could do” She says like she is on the verge of passing out.

Whoever she is talking to doesn’t seem to be bothered about the health of the person she’s crying about.

“I will do it,” she snaps

“Just give me some time!!”

“I’m doing what we…you said!! I really am…it’s not as easy as it looks, this place is guarded with so many surveillance, if they catch me I’m a dead woman,” she adds.

I don’t have a good feeling about this.

She doesn’t even wait for a response and just snaps the phone shut in frustration.

It then dawns on me, she is being blackmailed.

“I’m back!” Shouts Officer Trent, “let’s move”

I can’t believe this is happening.

We enter fully into the administrative area of the institution.

Several staff are passing, obviously having where to go.

As we approach the door that leads to Dr. Ezra’s office, I see Rebecca.

She is in a side room with glass walls around it, making it visible to those outside.

She is in tears, as usual.

The counselor with her brings out a tissue, she collects it to dab her red nose.

One would think she painted the nose red.

“Everything feels so overwhelming,” she sobs.

“I don’t know if I could ever get better,”

“My withdrawal episodes are becoming so regular,” she says.

If I didn’t know what I knew, I would have thought her very stupid for ratting herself out and elongating her chances of still being locked in this place.

The counselor with her rubs her shoulders in a pitiful manner.

I almost snorted.

The minute the counselor walks out to take a call.

Her solemn face instantly vanishes, like they were never there.

Her expression shifts into a cold calculated look, someone with a mission.

I am walking slowly to observe all these things.

Something is coming. I can feel it.

Officer Trent doesn’t even seem to be bothered about me not walking fast.

Her hand quickly flies across the counselors desk and meets a stack of blue files, and opens them, looking for a particular one.

Her eyes that are no longer solemn, scan through the top lines of each of the files with great speed.

What on earth is she looking for?

What’s going on?

The entrance door to the office creeks open, once she hears it she quickly sits back normally and the act continues.

Lovely.

The counselor comes with a bottle of water.

She takes it as she starts tearing up again.

Oh Lord.

My minds drifts back to eight months ago,

After I had been sentenced to go to rehab, Kyle had obviously won the case.

I was too broke to even get a good lawyer.

When leaving the court, there was a car park adjacent to the court.

A black SUV parked looked oddly familiar, I had seen Kyle hop inside that car several times, I never took note of it.

Nevertheless, a huge guy in black shades came out of the car and handed a gorgeous red-head a black bag.

I knew that was no ordinary bag.

It was either full of cash or something valuable.

I never miss a face.

Weeks later, I saw that same face in Rehab.

The same day I happened to be admitted.

Coincidence? I don’t think so.

We approach an office with a shiny-coated black door. I really don’t want to see Dr. Ezra’s slimy face. But oh well, we don’t always get what we wish for.

“Come in, come in,” says Dr. Ezra, he seems to already know we were coming.

Surveillance.

Dr. Ezra’s office smells of Stale Coffee, and cheap air-freshener. His office desk is tidy, I can tell he arranged it recently, in fact, just before we had arrived.

“Your final paperwork is here” says Dr. Ezra, “I have to say, you have made remarkable progress and I hope it stays that way”

“You are released from this center, although you have three years of probation” he says almost immediately. “And ensure you keep to the distance mandate as regarding Mr. Kyle Andrews, as was declared in the court”

Hearing his name makes me flinch.

It’s how they’re making him look like the victim, God how long will I be able to take this.

“Any attempt to violate these rules, will land you back in this place” he says, he was deadpan serious.

“I understand…sir,” I say, letting practiced humility cover my tone.

Dr. Ezra stares at me.

It’s like he was waiting for me to bring out a knife out of my pocket or something.

I am actually over them always studying me for any c***k, they should just give up.

As though he heard my thoughts, his gaze shifts back to the files before him, he squints his eyes so much I think he is about to go blind.

“With that being said,” he says finally,

“Sign at the bottom.”

Officer Trent stiffens instantly, oh please, if he is going to miss me he can just say so.

I take the pen handed out to me and sign my name with a fluid stroke.

By 9:35, I stand at my intake locker to fetch my things.

By 9:40, the outside air hits me like an ice-water bath. Suddenly, it’s like my lungs pumped more erratically for the first time in 243 days.

I close my eyes to savor this moment, I can’t believe this is actually happening to me.

Suddenly, I hear a car honk. A familiar one.

“What are you waiting for? Get in.”

I’m finally out of this place.

Now the real battle begins.