Page 47 of Ethereally Tainted

I stop for a moment as he casually remarks, “You have strange eyes.”

When he talks, his voice is high-pitched, like a prepubescent boy, but he looks around my age. His external image is harsh, yet the sound of his voice is gentle and delicate, forming an undeniable contrast. His voice is different from what most people would anticipate.

I am tongue-tied, and all I can say is, “Uhm.”

Thank you so much? You too?What kind of reaction is one supposed to have in a situation like that?

“Do you want to have lunch with us?”

His question catches me off guard, a normal question yet one that is so apt at this moment, only seconds after he belittles the colors of my eyes. Then, I think about how he said“us”and not“me,”which immediately rings alarm bells inside my head.

After peeking around his shoulder, I notice no one behind him before slowly turning back to him, more confused than ever. I hesitate for a minute, contemplating whether to say yes or no. Friendship is a weakness, but getting to know someone who has stayed here longer than me wouldn’t hurt.

“Sure,” I say after what feels like an eternity, and that smile is back, showcasing his crooked teeth.

He has a ruggedly handsome face, but the yellow spots around his teeth make me reconsider my opinion. I hastily gather the books and place them on the table, not bothering to put them away in their place, before quickly following him out of the library, which has descended into peaceful silence as lunchtime approaches. We move forward in complete quiet; the only noise is our shoes against the ground. The chairs in the waiting room remain as they were when I first arrived, untouched and not moved since that night. Only now, there is actually someone sitting in the reception behind the bulletproof glass, an older lady with gray hair keeping a close eye on a screen that I assume shows footage from the surveillance cameras. In the presence of distant surveillance cameras, my heart races with fear, adrenaline sending blood rushing to every distant capillary in my body. The sight of surveillance cameras brings back painful memories of my time at Grimhill Manor, and I can’t stand being watched like that.

“What’s your name?” I question, needing something else to take my mind off things and admire his tall physique.

We stand in front of each other, and I’m comforted by our similar heights, almost identical. I certainly don’t feel that way when I stand close to the heavily tattooed man; his tall, imposing figure makes me feel like I am stalked by a predator, ready to pounce on its prey.

“Alex,” he replies shortly, and I regret saying yes to his offer of eating with him.

I’d managed just fine on my own, so why did I take him up on his offer?

As we make our way to the cafeteria and take a left, I’m welcomed by the sight of patients already having their meals, their conversations buzzing in the air. Everyone in the room appears to be completely engaged in conversation with one another, and some are even having one-sided conversations with themselves. Seeing someone slice themselves with a plastic knife sends shivers down my spine, and all I want to do is scream at them to stop, despite the plastic barely leaving a mark. A sick and twisted smile is plastered on the person’s lips as he tries to slice his skin open before a guard comes and stops him. He shifts his eyes, seemingly apathetic to what’s going on. When our eyes meet, I feel a deep emptiness from within him, like a void that I can sense and see into, but there is no sign of life, just a hollow shell. This location teems with emotionally disturbed individuals.

As the staff hands Alex his plate of food, I cautiously survey the environment, prepared to respond if anything occurs. A constant hum of unease permeates my mind, making me feel that I have to be ready for anything, regardless of how uncomfortable it makes me feel. The staff are all untrustworthy in my eyes; I don’t feel safe confiding in them to help me become better.

In the far corner of the cafeteria, the same four people I have been avoiding for days sit, three of them whose names I still don’t know. I ignore them as best as possible, letting the staff pour the food onto my paper plate. The rotten smell of food immediately fills my nostrils and makes me lose my appetite completely, my nose scrunching in distaste at the look of the food that reminds me of something an animal has thrown up, then stomped on.

Alex confidently strides toward a table in the center of the cafeteria, his demeanor one of contentment, something I could never replicate.

Several other people sit around the same table with him, some with more unique clothing styles than others but still looking like people you would want to avoid. His words from earlier suddenly make sense when he asked me if I wanted to eat with them.

An eerie feeling creeps over me as I go to their table, like icy fingers reaching out to me or as if someone is observing me.

Losing all sense of inhibition, my curiosity takes over, and I cannot resist the urge to look up, my eyes adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights of the cafeteria. Staring into a pair of sapphire eyes, I feel the intense fury and rage radiating from them. A deep chill passes through me as his gaze bore into me; it’s a feeling both threatening and secure as if I’m safe but could also be hurt by them. His face appears relaxed as he controls himself so well, but his eyes are caught in a fire that threatens to burst like gasoline. His long red strands of hair fall in front of one of his eyes, a position it often finds itself in. The black hoodie he wears covers the majority of his locks. With irritation, I lift an eyebrow at him, challenging him in some way, feeling fed up that he’s staring at me as if he has the nerve, and then his gaze shifts to Alex with such distaste. As usual, he does nothing but stares at me, and in response, I grow weary, turning my back away from him and heading toward where Alex has settled down. I observe him chuckling at something the person with the lime green hair says, the same person from when I arrived here who didn’t even acknowledge me.

Seems like this institute is full of obnoxious, stubborn people.

It’s then that I realize there is no room to sit. The girl sitting at the table let out a devilish cackle as she and her friend exchange hushed whispers while sneering at me. Alex looks back at me with the same lifeless grin filling his lips, pure mockery etched across his face.

“You think I was serious? That you could sit here with us?”

I hear his laughter echoing in my ears as the embarrassment spreads like wildfire, all five people at his table laughing derisively at me.

As my confusion swells like the toughest waves crashing against the shore, I finally understand how naïve I was. Who would want to sit with me?

The truth is like a boulder inside me, and even as they keep snickering, gossiping, and gazing at me, I sense my cheeks blazing and my eyes stinging from tears of embarrassment, but I won’t let them see me cry. I was stupid to think they wanted to eat with me, and humiliation drains me of my appetite. Rage fills my veins, and I throw my plate of food in Alex’s face, watching him drenched in food that looks like vomit. I spin on my heels, hearing the roar of his anger reverberate through the cafeteria as I walk away.

“You are a fucking crazy bitch!” he screams in a rage that sounds like the cries of a twelve-year-old boy trying to threaten his mother even though he knows it won’t work.

However, his words settle deep in me, causing adrenaline to shoot through every cell in my body until my lungs struggle to breathe, heaving with the fight to receive oxygen. I keep walking, and the further I go, the more the sound of the cafeteria fades until I reach a landing of white stone steps, which I climb, aided by a light railing for balance. I lean against the wall and take a deep breath, trying to push away his words from the forefront of my head.

“You are fucking crazy, Naya.”

“Naya, you crazy bitch. Come here and please me,” his old voice demands me, and I have no choice but to obey.

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