Heroes

Sometimes the secrets that are hidden from us are for our benefit… Others are hidden out of fear... -Number Ten- Tick-tock.  Tick-tock said the clock that has been echoing through my room ALL DAY! No use trying to ignore it, I gave up on that idea a few hours ago. It wasn’t like I could stop it. The stupid nurses put it in the wall way, way, way out of my reach. Even on my cot, I’m still too small to reach it. I’m eleven and I have been growing a lot lately. I’m much taller than I was a few months ago, which I like, but the growing pains suck. There are days I wake up with big purple bruises on my arms and legs. I say again, growing pains suck. They really, really, Really suck! I heard through the grapevine -an expression I adore- that Nurse Bellagy was leaving but I honestly didn’t mind her. She always gave me ice for the growing pains. It was Nurse Dritch I couldn’t stand. Our very own Nurse Ratched and I couldn’t stand her. There was a knock on the door that dragged my attention away from the clock. My head resting against the wall, my eyes locked on the wooden planks in the window. I don’t answer, but to be fair, that never stops the nurses from barging in whenever they want anyway. “Good morning, Number Ten. Did we sleep well?” asked the leather handbag with silver stranded hair. Why does she say ‘we’? Did we sleep well? Well, you probably did, ma’am. I slept in this window sill...again. I don’t say that, though. I just nod. “Well, very good.” She chirped cheerfully. I turned my head to look at the woman in white and I instantly regret it. She was right in front of me clutching a clipboard, a comb and a pair of large silver scissors. NOT AGAIN!  Every two weeks, these nurses came and gave me a haircut. My hair has never, I mean Never passed my shoulders. They said it was to keep my hair tamed because if it grew, it would’ve been too unruly and unmanageable. I don’t really believe that. If it were true, why did they only feel the need to cut my hair? Lots of girls had long, kinda messy hair, even some boys had long, messy hair but mine and ONLY mine is unruly enough for them to cut regularly. I closed my eyes when I heard the scissors snip. Strands of my jet black hair fell onto the bed sheets. It wasn’t too bad...Until this crazy lady yanked my head back by the thick strands, pullings a chunk of hair out. Yeah, that’s fine. Give an eleven year old whiplash. That’s cool. I really hate this place. After receiving a sudden whack from the comb, I realized the grumbling, walking raisin had just said something. I sit up straight and attempt to turn my head to look at her, only for her to grab the sides of my face and snap it forward. I’m thoroughly convinced that this crazy lady will someday snap my neck. “Pardon, Nurse?” I asked in the sweetest tone I could muster. I heard her suck her teeth before feeling her weight evaporate off my bed. If you’ve ever heard the mumblings of a bitter old woman, you’d know that the only words that sound like actual words are the bad ones. I find it funny, she doesn’t seem to think I can hear her. “I said “Get dressed”, you malevolent child.” She bit before leaving me to myself. As the door closed, I heard her mutter the word ‘heathen’. Now after years of living with this bitter wench, I knew what malevolent meant but heathen was a new one. I ran over to my books, knowing the largest one would be my dictionary. A person who does not belong to a widely held religion (especially one who is not a Christian, Jew, or Muslim) as regarded by those who do or an unenlightened person; a person regarded as lacking culture or moral principles. Well, that’s hurtful, but my hurt feelings would mean nothing if I was late for line up. My dresses were folded neatly in a drawer arranged by color. My favorite dress was a choppy beige one that I’m sure was actually just a T-shirt. It was way too big for me but not overly too large as to form a tripping hazard. I definitely didn’t know why that all qualified it as my favorite but that didn’t change its status. Maybe it was the fact that it hid the bruises on my arms and legs. Did I mention that growing pains suck? Maybe it was the fact that the material didn’t make it feel like bugs were crawling along my skin all the time. I hate bugs. Either way, it is my favorite dress so of course it was the one I put on. My socks were long and white. They stop a little below my knee but they hide the bruises on my feet so I say win. I hurt to stand. Most days it just hurt to breathe, with the doctors poking at me like I was a dead frog or something. But I think them poking at me is better than my treatments here.  Those were terrifying. On days I have treatment, they make me skip breakfast. I don’t like the food but it’s still okay to eat. It was only colorless and flavorless and oddly squishy and hard at the same time, but I’d rather eat that than not eat nothing. They’d take me to a dark room with a metal box and would force me inside. It was really cramped in there, barely enough space for me to sit with my chin on my knees. It’s honestly not all that bad at first, that is until they start rolling me and then the box gets hot. Really, really hot and the only thing I could do is sit still for hours and hours and hours before they roll me back into the other room.  By the time they let me out, it’s time to take my medicine and go back to my room. Stiff, sore, starving and tired, my first instinct usually is to try to go to sleep but that hasn’t happened lately. I just sit on my window ledge and stare at the moon from behind the panks that block most of the outside world. The only sounds that echo through my room is the sound of that stupid ticking clock. It distracts me most of the time, but when I brush my teeth, like I’m doing now, I count fifty ticks before brushing my tongue and then four ticks before spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing out my mouth. Thankfully, today wasn’t a HotBox day. Which means that I needed to be in lineup.  When I opened the door, I could see almost all the rooms in our hall. There were ten rooms in this hall and I was in the first on. Lucky number Ten. Across the hall from me was Number Eleven, but everyone called him Beans. He was a lot shorter than most of the other kids, being nine and everything. Beans had big brown eyes that were a little bit darker than mine, but my hair was darker than his. Straighter too. His short brown curls were infamous gold framed glasses. I know he’s just another patient, but it is my sworn duty to protect him. I mean I’m not Number Twelve who often smuggled beans from the Doctor’s kitchen to give to him but when it was cold outside and there was snow on the ground I buried his beans so he wouldn’t be taken to the sick room. He was too young to deal with that treatment. Why couldn’t they just stick to giving us our medicine? I never understood lineup. We just stood outside our respective doors, unless you are currently sedated or enduring treatment. Then they send us on our merry way. It makes no sense. I looked to my left and watched as Nurse Dritch and a new male nurse I didn’t recognize stood by the Dining hall doors. I pay it no mind, he wasn’t a part of my routine. Instead, I sat at my usual table with my usual patrons. Nineteen and Sixteen were already eating their mush under the table. I, for some odd and unexplainable reason, find confined spaces comfortable. Nineteen likes to say it’s because they always put me in a box so I live in one as much as possible. I don’t think that makes any sense but that doesn’t stop me from crawling under things all the time. And I don’t think they really mind being under here with me. Sometimes I think they’re sisters. Sixteen and Nineteen did kinda act like it, but they looked nothing alike. Sixteen had these thick blocky bangs and long medium brown hair and Nineteen’s was a mix of midnight and violet. Though they both had rather fair skin, Nineteen was blessed with a multitude of freckles. I do think Sixteen had nicer eyes. They were a nice shade of dark purple with golden flakes around the center. Nineteen’s were deep dark blue like the night sky, or at least what I can see from my bedroom window. They looked nothing alike but they regularly bickered about the toys they were playing or the books one was reading that the other took without asking. Just like all the siblings I’ve ever seen on TV. In our little prison, though, we had some places to ourselves. My group of three had an old room that had been barricaded for what looked like a thousand years. There were cribs and bottles, a rocking chair and a bizarre little light that had dangling stars and planets on it. Nineteen, being unnecessarily curious and had zero control over her impulses, alway felt the need to touch things. Sixteen and me usually watched as she hopped into cribs, considering this room was found by Sixteen after my knife went through and we heard a small clang against the floor. It took us, more Sixteen and Nineteen than myself, eleven days to chip away at the wall to create a crawl space. Once we did, it became the place we often hid the things Nineteen took.  I’m always closest to the crawl space, I like to watch the clock from under the table. I only go inside to check on them, besides, someone has to make sure the doctors don’t find anything. I was just about to signal them, when I saw Sixteen pop her head out. Her brown hair appeared before her big sneaky smile. I just knew they were up to something as they slipped out from the cracked wall, both grinning like fools. Nineteen smiled. I could see her missing tooth as her deep blue eyes shone with mischief. “Do you want a name?” She whispered. The two started laughing. My mouth was hanging open and my eyes were wide as I nodded slowly. Since we got here, we were identified by our numbers, it was how we knew each other. It made things really awkward when we had funerals.  We were talking for a few minutes before I felt the air shift. It felt like it was electric, like the air around your head when you rub a balloon against your hair. Then one kid went insane. His hands were in his orange coloured hair as he screamed. He looked scared, confused and a little hyper. His eyes were darting from place to place, person to person as he held his chest. A second later, I could see number Twelve holding her head and screaming too. her voice bounced off the walls “Make them stop!” She cried as large tears drowned her forest green eyes. Before I knew it all of the kids were screaming about something. Three kids started running past our table. “Get them off!” One boy screamed,  as he slapped his face like the others. Only I didn’t actually see anything on him or the other kids. Sixteen, Nineteen and I rushed out from under the table before the kitchen practically burst into flames. The screams just kept getting louder and louder. One boy with dark blonde hair was lying in the corner with his hands over his ears and his eyes closed as wind blew his longer hair all about the place. That’s when the air felt less staticky. The room was a mess and there were children in tears, some looked like they had fallen asleep and were lying on the floor. That’s when the doctors came in. Most of them were standing by the door clutching a clipboard but there was one, the new guy, who was trying to help the boy who was asleep on the floor. I was standing there frozen when the doctors by the door grabbed the blondish haired boy who was now crying with his ears covered. His eyes burst open as they grabbed him. I was so busy watching him, I didn’t notice the doctors grabbing Sixteen and Nineteen. I started rushing to Eleven when they yanked him by his hood.  “Hey! Stop it! He’s only nine!” I yelled before one of them grabbed me too. I was kicking like crazy trying to make him let me go before he stuck a needle into my neck and everything went black. I could taste my thoughts, they were making my head pound. I sat, my back against a wall only to immediately move away, it was pitch black in here. Which isn’t a problem if you’re not afraid of the dark. Only, I am afraid of the dark. Maybe that’s why I sleep on the small ledge of my window. I’ve learned not to touch the walls. They burn more than the floor. The trick is to sit completely still and play games by yourself to make sure the time passes quickly. So I sing songs, I count by threes, I replay the entire movie of Snow White in my head until I remember another cool movie I like. I try not to think about my hunger. When they put you in the box, you stay there till the sun goes away and they don’t feed you. At least the doctors let me out.  This day was particularly long. I could almost see the seconds tick by in the shadows of the box. It was all shadows. It felt different. Like time and space were warping drastically in this steel oven. This change in the air didn’t go unnoticed. I felt awake. Energized. I felt ...the box moved. It was faint and slight, but I felt it. Then I felt it again.  And again.  And again.  Panic set in as I felt the box squeal as the walls caved in.  Something was crushing the box! With me still inside! My cropped blue black hair fell on my face as I curled into a ball. Eyes closed tight. Fists clenched tighter, I could hear an earth shattering scream echoing in my head. Then, the top of the box flew off. Ripped off by some force, like Magneto in the X-Men comic books.  Still shaking, my tiny hand reached out into the setting evening sun. My breathing was laboured as I tried to get just a little bit of breathable air into my lungs. When my vision came back into focus, several doctors were running towards me. “Number ten!” They exclaimed as they approached, placing their hands on my arms and face. The cut on my head seemed to worry them, more than the steel box that had just been ripped apart.  I can’t be the only person who saw that?! It was overwhelming. Absolutely gut wrenching.  I was holding on to the box to keep myself from collapsing. Maybe I should eat that nasty slug brain they try to convince us is actual food. It may be disgusting and possibly toxic but I think I’d rather be poisoned than not have eaten anything in four days. “She looks faint, someone get her to her room and get her some food.” I heard a deep voice booming in my head as I focused all my energy on standing straight. They don't like when you slouch and they make it hurt. Trust me. “Child, why don’t we give you your medication before sending you off to bed.” Nurse Bladen, crabby old wrinkle basket, said as she tried to appear sweet and kind hearted. She wasn’t that. She enjoys yanking me by the scalp to comb my hair with a comb that has bristles that make my head bleed. Right, Nurse Evil is being nice ‘cause that’s her natural demeanour.’ Right! I got up. Not like I actually had much of a choice. I wonder what’s for dinner. I was so hungry I had tricked myself into thinking the cafeteria food actually smells good but I wasn’t real food that they fed me anyway so why would I eat it? But that wasn’t my problem, well kinda but not my main problem. My main problem was the fact that nobody, not one person seemed to notice the silver box that now lies limp, dented and completely unusable. I was honestly somewhat relieved. That thing was a torture chamber and I’m not even sure what could be cured by that, and that’s what they want. To cure me and get me well.  I walked stiffly through the cold, narrow halls. I think that box gave me arthritis because my joints are stiff and sometimes my back won’t go straight. I never had good posture for as long as I could remember, and when you live here you remember every miserable moment.  You’d think this place would be more comfortable if it had children everywhere. That maybe there’s a chance that we all welcome and love and nurture each other. Most days, the other kids are trying to take what you have, and what you might need. The nurses were furious to find out that some of the others were exchanging their medicine. Now they just put it in our food. Good, now the flavourless, colourless mush tastes better… said literally no one. As I walk to the sleep hall, my feet only stepping on the dark grey squares, I hear screaming and the air changes again. This time it’s worse. There’s this loud rumbling sound and the ground shakes.  There’s a loud clattering sound and the windows break. There’s a loud snapping sound and the lights all go pop. I’m standing completely still too afraid to move, the world around me seems to still and yet, I’m still unable to move. I see children running rampant through the halls. “Get them off! Get them off!” They all scream, snapping their heads from side to side. Well, it’s official. Everybody here has lost their minds. Chuckling at my little joke I crept down the hallway completely ignoring the fact that I think we just had a mini earthquake. I don’t have any energy. As I count the seconds, they seem longer than they should be but I counted up to twenty thousand before I heard the nurses conversing a few doors from my room. Their voices were becoming more distorted as I practically dragged myself back to my room. I knocked on the door. Bam, bam, bam before I entered and put myself in my bed. I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve slept in my bed in months.  I woke up feeling groggy. My limbs hurt really bad this morning only it wasn’t morning. The sun seeps through the boards on my window in the morning, and it wasn’t cloudy outside. I swung my feet onto the cold tile floor. My vision was still kinda blurry but it wasn’t as bad as yesterday. As I got dressed, everything was on but my socks and shoes when I noticed it. There was no ticking. I looked up above my bed where the clock usually sat but it wasn’t there. I shrugged it off, placing my shoes and socks on my feet and made my way to the sink to brush my teeth rubbing my eyes when something crunched under my feet. Gears and glass was littered all over the floor and I...I just stared at the shards. How did it get down? Did one of the doctors do this? I know I didn’t. I’m still too short.