Tormented

Amelia hasn't been outside for years, she was a bird traped in a cage. But things are about to change, as she soon finds out what she can do that others can't.
" I had to face the fact that there was no way out.
They had made sure of that"
Can she make it out?

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1. Chapter 1

 

The walls an obscure orange, which matched the swaying trees outside. The empty room quiet, only the sound of my hollow breathing held any sign of life.
    It’s been years since I’ve felt the heat of the sun warm my cold and un-tanned skin, wrapping me in a warm blanket that held a promise of hope, which I have long lost too many years of being held captive like a bird in a small gage left to rot and forever forgotten.
       I wasn’t the only one; others were held in smaller cage’s that left no room for lying down, they pray only that they perish soon; skipping years of more painful nights in these cells.  
       As you get older you receive smaller amounts of food each year, keeping you alive enough so you die leisurely. Many die before their second year, only a few last as long as me, but most are not expected to live passed the forth, as I’m on my third year, I don’t wish to die.
      As the day go’s on ever so slowly I can only think of the days ahead of me, which I try not to think about. I have nothing to do, no one to talk to and nothing to keep me entertained.
     The room I know by heart is a rectangle shaped, four steps long to the wall opposite to me, and five and a half steps on my right and left. The small, bared widow held high to the wall on my right and an orange wooden door to the wall on my left, which has never been open once since I’ve been here, so it was a surprise when it did.
     “Get up!” The man yelled, while he pointed the gun at me. Like all the guards here, he is buff and wears a black uniform, which is supposed to protect them from us weak and hopeless people, who are treated so curly. I had trouble pulling my weak body up; the man became impatient and pulled me up so roughly I almost fell over again. Leading me through the door I saw a long line of other doors the same colour as mine, I had no doubt they held people like me in there where we can suffer.
     “Keep looking and I will poke your eyes” He tugged on my arms this time lightly, properly knew I would collapse if he pulled too hard.
     Soon we came to a sudden halt and I nearly run into him. The door in front of us was made out of thick glass, looking through it I could see glass chairs and a table that seemed to be occupied by people in white uniforms that looked like something a doctor would wear. The man unlocked the door with a key he pulled out from his back pocket of his jeans; putting it back he opens the door. We walked pass more doors and now stood at a blue door that said “Don’t disturb” Knocking the door he observed how I was dressed and shook his head in discuss, but still kept his hand on my arm.
     The door was opened by a man, also dressed in uniform; he motioned for us to walk in front of a large desk. The desk was carved with all sorts of symbols, behind it sat a tall man, with broad shoulders, his black hair slicked back, his brown eyes resting on me.
     “Our patient is doing remarkably well” said the man behind the desk to the guards who seemed busy looking around the large room. His tone angered me, the way he said it was like he was talking about me as if I was some kind of experiment. “I wasn’t expecting results like this” He said excitedly. I must have showed some confusion because he added “You must be lost, I am sorry about that” Sounding not at all sorry as he motioned me towards the overstuffed chair, as I sat I couldn’t help but notice how comfortable the chair is, nothing like the hard floor in the cell. “You have no idea what a success you have been for us. You have become our most prized possession” I thought of asking what he meant, but I didn’t want to risk getting beaten up. “Get her cleaned up and get her out of those rags and get some new clothes for her” He waved his hand at the man behind me, who still held me by my thin arm.
     Before I knew what was happening I was being pulled back to the door we came from and being dragged to a green door, the words ‘showers’ was printed in the door. Was I going to have a shower? I hadn’t had one for years.
   The man unlocked the door and pushed me towards a girl around my age eighteen or nineteen. Her brown hair was braided at the back, showing her beautiful face, she wasn’t tall, but almost as tall as me. She looked at me with pity and nodded to the man, who let go of me. I fell into the girls hands, I hadn’t realised how much I had relied on him to hold me up.
    The girl led me to the shower closes to us and pulled off my clothes and dropped it onto the icy floor, my feet felt frozen on the white tiles. Turning on the taps she held her arm out for me to steady myself as I step into the cold water.
   As I stood there leaning ageist the wall to support my wait, she washed me with soap that smelt of lavender, I didn’t have the luxury of soap any other time, so why was I offered such luxury now? While I still could I welcomed the smell and the feel of water running over me, cooling me down, I have missed the smell of water.
   When the girl had done washing me she walked off to get clothes and a towel. I took in the scenery around me, the white tiled room was filled with rows of showers that I showered in many time before. Far at the end of the room where the girl had run off too are shelves of white towels and uniforms like the one the girl is wearing.
    The girl come back with a towel and some clothes, a plan blue sleeved top and blue jeans. Putting them on I realise how much weight I have lost, the size eight clothes was falling off of me, the girl had to fetch me a belt that weighed a ton and poke a hole in it to hold my jeans in place.
  “What’s your name?” I whisper, my throat too dry to ask anything else.
 “Emma, yours?” she asked as she gave me a fruit bar, I knew she wasn’t supposed to give me the bar and I tried to refused it but she insisted, she would properly get into trouble for it later.
  “Amelia” I whisper in reply, my coarse voice echoing in the showers. I sat down on a bench with Emma. She hands me a cup of what look likes soup with green leave swimming around in it and I take a sip of it, it tasted like chicken soup, and I lay it on the bench in-between Emma and me.
    While I eat the fruit bar she says “You must be very important, if you are out of the cell” I thanked her with a nod for not saying ‘your cell’. I didn’t know what to say so I said.
  “You work here” I notice my voice was clear, and it didn’t hurt when I talked, must have been the soup.
  “Yeah, I have been here for eight years, I clean the showers and rooms” she looked like she didn’t want anything to do with this tortious place, but what was stopping her from leaving?
  “Why don’t you leave” why did I say that? I can’t talk to her like that; I don’t have a place to ask such a question. She sees the alarm in my expression and shook her head and looked down and played with the rim of my cup.
  “I can’t leave, my brother is here and it’s the only way to keep an eye on him” She looked in pain, I didn’t know what to do if she cries I haven’t talked to a soul in three years, I can’t remember what to say, let alone what to do, so it was a relief when she looked up, her expression was filled with anger and not with grief. She took a lung full of air and let it out slowly. “I will cut and bush your hair” she said surprising me. I haven’t cut my hair for years, letting it grow in knots passed my waist.
      Emma pulled out a pair of scissor and brush out of her pocket; I turned my back to her. She started brushing the end of my hair and worked her way up; it felt wired and strange to have my hair brushed.
       Emma added some sort of lotion to it and rubbed it in, it smelt of oranges. When she was done she cut it just be low my shoulder blades, I felt a whole chunk of my hair fall to the floor at my feet; it was so light it felt like I was missing something even thought I new what it was.
    “That’s better” she said brushing my hair again. I turn to face her and she smiled, what was it? I didn’t have time to ask before she pulled out a mirror and face the reflective side to face me. I gasped, now I know why she smiled, my blond hair fell past my shoulders, neatly brushed. My face was clean, letting my eyes sparkle a dark blue like the stormy sea, I looked a lot better. My smile soon fades; I know who I looked like.
   My mother
   Emma puts down the mirror and spreads her arms out, I jump not knowing what she was doing, then I see her pain eyes and realise she was just trying to give me a hug. She was just trying to hug me and I jumped, acting as if she was going to hurt me, she’s my friend and that’s how I act around her. Her pain expression is quickly replaced by a plank one. I drink the last of the soup and the fruit bar.
    We walked towards the door where the guard stood, he was here to take me back to the dirty cell, I supposed. I turn back to Emma the look on her face conforms my thoughts; I knew she didn’t want any of this to happen, but she or I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I nod in her direction, I didn’t want her to get into trouble for befriending me, when the guard wasn’t looking she nodded back.
   The gaud directed me passed the glass door and are walking towards my cell, then we were turning. “My cell is just there” I point back towards my cell, but the guard just kept on walking. Didn’t he believe me?
   “I was ordered to give you a bigger cell with a bed” Did I just hear him wrong.
   “Hold up did you just say you got given orders to give me a bigger cell and … with a bed?” I say in disbelief. I must be losing it. He looked at me as if I were crazy, which meant I heard correctly.
   A few feet away from my cell we come to a stop. As he opens the door I realise how much bigger the cell is compared to mine, the window was higher up and longer. The walls are a dark blue instead of the orange I have grown used to.
    As I walk in the cell I could feel myself wanting to run out of the door, but I hold myself there. The door closers behind me and suddenly I am alone in the cell again waiting to die, like many people here. I walk towards the bed, it was held up by a wooden bed frame, the blankets a soft grey, the bed looked so inviting soon I couldn’t resist it anymore, I jumped on it. The blankets were even softer then they looked. The pillow was stuffed with cotton, why do I have all this now, after three years I have never once had a blanket or a bed to sleep on, so why give me one now? The question frustrated me, I punch the concrete wall, and pain shot through my hand, the bones felt like they had broken.
   Drops of blood spill from my torn skin onto the fresh blankets, I look at the wall to see if any of my skin had pilled of my knuckles and on to the blue wall.
    My breath gets caught in my throat when I see that the concrete wall had a two centimetre dent in it, about the size of my fist, No way! I scream in my head, terrified. I couldn’t have done that, there’s no way in hell I could have done that! The pain in my hand being’s tears to my eyes; I roll up in a ball careful not to knock my fist.
  

  As I open my eyes the pain was no longer throbbing at my knuckles, I look at my hands, which one did I punch the wall with? Both didn’t have a scratch on them. It was a dream, just a dream, I thought with relief, but when I looked up at the wall dread filled me head to toe, it hadn’t changed, it still had a fist size dent in it and smears of blood stains on the blue paint. What did this mean? Before I could think of an explanation for the blood and the dent, the lid of the square hole in the door unlocked, someone slid through a bowl of soup, I could still see the steam coming off of it.
   I jumped off the bed and picked up the bowl, and sculled it down ignoring the burn of hot liquid run down my throat. When I was done my mouth felt as if it had been set on fire, my eyes were watering from the heat. The bowl I had eaten was three time the amount of food I would usually get. Why was I getting more?
     Then dropping my bowl I felt my body go stiff. ‘Our patient is doing remarkably well’ that’s what the man behind desk had said about me, I didn’t think to ask why.  Remembering what else he had said looking for an answer to all these generous gifts. ‘You have no idea what a success you have been for us. You have become our most prized possession’ Success? Prized possession? The pieces of the jig saw puzzle were slowly fitting together. I fit the last piece of the jig saw puzzle in and the horror struck me like a bus.
     I was an experiment!
     That would explain why I could put a dent in a concrete wall, survived as long as I have, and my hand healed inhumanly fast. But what have they done to me to make me like this? Were they doing it to others who were in their cells?
     I was sent here because the police couldn’t explain who kill my parents while I was in the house with them, so they accused me of murdering them, so they didn’t care what these people did to me, I was a murderer, a killer, I was nothing to them. Now I was a prized possession, their experiment. But why give a murder enough strength to put a dent in a concrete wall, wouldn’t that be stupid?
    I look around to see if there was a camera around here, if I was doing an experiment on someone I would want to watch them for a sign of success or failure. But there wasn’t any. Maybe I was being paranoid, but then why was my gut telling me otherwise? I needed to get out of here somehow if I am what I think I am; an experiment.
    I look for any way out, I try the bar window, there was no way out from there. Even if I got out from there how do I know I’m not twenty feet above the ground.
    If I am so strong then why don’t I knock out the guard and use his keys to run out of here, I know what the difficulty would be if I follow out that plan, I didn’t know what doors led the way out of this hell, and other guides would see and go after me and I’m too weak to out run them.    
    I had to face the fact that there was no way out.
    They had made sure of that.

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