Perfect

Chapter Five: Entrance

I had a gut feeling that something was amiss. We weren’t really being put in psychological services.

Alex said that they were going to get rid of anyone resisting the experiments. Obviously, we did.

I knew that my mother needed treatment for her addiction, but not like this. Did she really hurt herself? The worst part was that I wouldn’t know the truth. She was probably locked up by the scientists at Brisk’s College because she was psychologically incompetent.

Part of me wished the old days. Part of me wanted to feel safe again, sheltered in my mother’s arms. I loved Alex so much, but right now I craved the comforting touch of a mother. But she was never like that toward me. I felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness.

I glanced back at Alex to see how he was doing. He looked so weak. I stretched my arm out as far as I could without breaking the bandages, but I couldn’t reach. My shoulder burned and halted my movement. “Alex,” I spoke over the sirens, careful not to make too much noise.

His eyes opened slowly, like he was waking up after a long nap. I saw the defeat in his eyes.

“I love you so much and I’m sorry,” I spoke, eyes watering with tears. “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t accepted the job, then they wouldn’t be hunting me down like this. Now they have you.” I was sobbing now.

“Stop. We’ll get through this together, just like I said. And I love you, Evelyn.” He closed his eyes again, wincing in pain as the nurse adjusted the cloths that were stopping the bleeding. She grabbed a roll of bandages and began to dress the wound.

I examined her completely for the first time. Her chocolate-brown, dull hair was up in a messy bun. Her makeup was perfect and covered up any physical imperfections. But as she carefully wrapped the bandages around Alex’s arm, her sadness was evident.

Why couldn’t people be like her and actually have hearts?

Yet I was afraid to say anything. I couldn’t be killed, not yet. Yes, it was cowardly, but I hoped that my slight smiles were enough to show her that I noticed.

“Five minutes!” the driver shouted. The man who hurt Alex and I was slumped in the passenger seat, probably planning what he would do to us. I wondered if he felt any guilt at all. Probably not. Then my mind shifted. I realized that they’ve already gotten all the students at my school; where did they go? They couldn’t all have gone to psychological services.

Most of them were probably in the infamous research lab at Brisk’s, expecting a cure from the “sickness” they had. Even the food previously deemed disgusting was tainted with the gene and supplements. The school was forcing people to get sick. 

I made up my mind: I had to speak, and I would use my body language to communicate with the nurse. Something told me that she knew something I didn’t, and I had to find that out immediately.

She stumbled over to the block of cushioning I was on, almost falling completely forward at a sudden stop. This must have been a routine for her; how often did she have to do this? I shook my head in disapproval and disgust. “Keep still,” she whispered, blinking back tears.

Darn it. I froze completely, trying to be obedient. I only had a few more minutes. I couldn’t stay still. This was life or death. 

“Ma’am?” I began.

She glanced over but didn’t say a word. I carefully continued: “Do you have any word on what’s going on? I know what all of this is about, but there has to be more.” The officer didn’t hear me. Phew.

She remained silent yet still; I had a feeling that she was in shock that I knew. Panicked, she searched around her and crouched to my level: “Yes, I do. What do you want to know?”

“Two minutes!” the driver yelled, honking his horn. “Come on! We have business to do!”

“I just need to know how far they’ve gotten with this. How many people are in the center? Where else are they being brought to?” I made sure to shape my words carefully. 

She paused and clutched her forehead in frustration. “I don’t know why they’ve done this. It’s cruel. I’m not supposed to speak of it, but I will since you asked...”
Her breathing quickened to the rhythm of the speed bumps we passed. 

“Go on...” I prompted. 

“There are about 200 in the psychological center, 300 in the emergency room, and about fifteen have died.” I heard a waver in her voice. “Their parents were told that they died from the sickness that claimed them. The parents who noticed something was off fought back and are basically in your situation.” 

Oh my God. 

It was bad.

“Is it just here? Or is this happening all around the world?” My heart pounded as we neared a large building that I dreamed of being in one day. Now it was just a nightmare. 

“We were supposed to be a test case of some sort, but now other countries have done it. It is perfectly acceptable to the general public because any ills are being treated. I just wonder how humane it is. If so many people are dying, why do it?” She buried her face in her cracked, scarred hands. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

The doors swung open as soon as the car stopped moving. The driver opened the back trunk and got out two worn, folded stretchers. We still had trouble moving. 

The nurse picked me up first and placed me gently on the cot. She started to pick up Alex, but the officer slapped her hand away, picked him up, and slammed him on the cot. “Sorry,” he said sarcastically. “Okay, you two. This is how it’s going to work. You will be separated, boys and girls. We will keep a close eye on you both and will monitor how you are progressing.” The driver wheeled my stretcher into the building while the officer wheeled Alex’s. 

Before we entered the building, the driver turned around the stretcher and began to back me into the entrance. I caught a glimpse of the nurse. She stood completely still next to the open door of the car. Her hair had come out of its bun, blowing in the wind gently. I thought I saw tears dripping down her face and her  makeup running. Even though we were far away, I swear we made eye contact. 

She lifted her hand and waved goodbye slowly. I wondered if she was going to get in trouble for telling me things. The officer seemed to know.

I waved back sadly. “Thank you,” I mouthed. 

Things were going to be so different. 

For a second, Alex’s stretcher passed mine. I touched his fingers and massaged his neck. 

“It’s going to be okay,” we spoke in unison. 

It’s kind of messed up how often these words were a lie. It wasn’t going to be okay. At all. 

Then, the door shut in my face. I heard the police officer grunt in frustration and exertion. The door barely stayed open as he pushed me through. 

Houseplants lined what appeared to be a waiting room. The television flickered on some kid’s cartoon. To me, it looked normal. Alex was being pushed up the white-walled, seemingly endless hallway. I watched as his frame disappeared.

That exact moment reminded me of my mother’s first visit at the hospital. They carried her away in a stretcher; I was only five years old, screaming for my mother. She told me that it was going to be alright. Before we left the house, she told me to pick up my stuffed bunny and think of her when I held it. The ambulance ride still hasn’t left me. Snow had already piled on the streets. I remember looking out the driver’s window, laden with white crystals. My mother held my hand, and in the other I held Mr. Bunny. If she hadn’t put too much alcohol in her system, then we could have been playing in the wonderland.

Alex appeared to disappear into the fog, away from me. Except I had no stuffed animal to comfort me. Just a bloody bandage.

“Now you will be brought upstairs for evaluation. Be silent, please.”