Page 16 of Corrupted Torment

I don’t know how long I wait, but when our Doctor finally comes out, his face is one of disappointment. I don’t look at him or Devon as I’m route marched back home. A feeling of resentment and anger flares through me. I know he wants me to feel guilty, but it’s not me. I have a right to know what it is they are doing to us.

“I am sorry, Rafferty, but obviously the cane is no longer an effective form of punishment on such an insolent boy. You’re too nosy for your own good. When you are ready, you will understand how important these things are, but until then, you need to reflect on the damage you are doing.”

As the Doctor leads me deeper into the maze of corridors, I am less confident in where I am. His words sink in, but the chaotic tantrum of lacking control thrums close to the surface. I hate being reminded that I am, in fact, a child. It’s been so long since I have been allowed to behave as such and no one can make me feel as small as this man.

The closest things I had to a toy growing up was the baby books we had. Otherwise, it was play-fighting among my brothers and learning to brawl, climb, and run. Making up games we could play together. Those grew into the dangerous ones we play today.

Could you really consider that a childhood?

Yet, this doctor still insists on calling me a boy, making me feel beneath everyone else. Even Aiden was granted more respect, but he preferred to follow the rules. He will be less than thrilled with my little venture today.

As we enter back to the facility below, my brothers sneer and scoff at me as we pass them. Some come to the dormitory doorways to stare, others already in full view of my shameful walk to punishment. Some follow, eager to witness whatever it is I am going to be subjected to. It’s not unusual.

The Doctor stops abruptly, turning to face me. We are in front of a door next to the medical wing, one I’ve never seen opened before. Looking me up and down, the Doctor sighs, looking almost reluctant. It’s strange and makes me a little wary of what’s coming.

Pulling a keycard from his trouser pocket, I watch with trepidation as he swipes it against the door. Excited whispers echo the corridor from my brothers as they watch the door swinging forward, a light automatically flicking on.

“In you go, boy. Hopefully, a bit of time alone will give you some insight into what it is you need to do to become more like your brothers.”

His words are a jab at the knowledge I’m trying to acquire. The stabbing wound of realisation that every move I make is a test to him. One I am constantly failing each time I strive to find out the information before I am supposed to. It won’t stop me from trying. I walk inside, ignoring the laughter that follows behind me.

The door shuts, sealing me inside, shutting me away from the cacophony of sound my brothers make. There’s a small window in the door for my brothers to peer through and a large, hinged flap at the bottom. I’ve become a zoo exhibit for them, but safe and away from the noise of their cackling laughter.

There’s only a single bunk and a chamber pot in the otherwise windowless room. I could almost laugh to myself, except a witness might have me removed. He’s put me in isolation. It’s amusing that he thinks time alone will bother me. It gives me time to process and to plan. He nearly had me worried there.

While I’m locked in this chamber, maybe I can learn to be quiet enough to follow Devon successfully next time. Perhaps I can attempt to retrace my steps in my mind of the confusing layout upstairs, so next time I will be able to make my way back before the appointment starts.

They didn’t tell me how long I was to be isolated, but I know I will be fine. It’s a shame I don’t have access to any paper or books. It would make my musings much easier to follow.

* * *

AGE FIFTEEN

It could’ve been hours, maybe just minutes. Time means nothing once that door slams shut behind you. My white shirt is already damp with sweat and clings to my body. It replaces the black uniform I normally wear. Everything needs to be white in this room.

Thump, thump, thump,the pounding headache starts. It rapidly beats in time with my heart.The organ feels like it wants to rip its way right out of my chest. It’s like a thudding rhythm of wild, galloping horses inside my body. I close my eyes and tell myself it’s all inside my head. The nothingness behind my lids doesn’t quell the fear of what awaits me.

Solitude is becoming an increasing issue.

Each time I’m found, the stakes are raised in my isolation. It started with just those few days. A walk in the park, I’d come out laughing. Then a week, two, a month, and finally six months. It hadn’t worked. Removing me from people had been a vacation.

Then they upped the ante.

Instead of time alone in a normal cell, the room I’m currently placed in is devoid of anything but sterile white walls. I’ve fought back and chased away my gnawing curiosity over time. It didn’t matter. Every single time I would crack, the aching need to know caught me in its grip and I’d be back inside this caged hell. I’ve been here five times before. I know the drill.

Sensory deprivation.

I’m slowly losing all sense of myself.

My head spins, and I lay down on the soft white floor. I stare vacantly at the flap where food will eventually be pushed through. I don’t even remember opening my eyes.

Last time they kept me here, it was for six months. It felt like a lifetime. I don’t know how long they’ll keep me this time. How I’ll survive it. Now, I’m starting to wonder if this information is truly worth the price. Is it worth just giving in to their version of reality to escape this?

Can I live with the ruthless violence the doctors want for me?

Now they want me to forget, and I need to keep a grip on any knowledge I have.

Wait, I wanted to give in. Do I?

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