Chapter 3

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They ordered us all into the arts and crafts room.

We all shuffled our feet into the colorful area and sat at a table in our groups of pill testers.

I looked at the forlorn faces of my group members. They had probably all been here awhile and the dismal aura they carried was contagious.

A few staff members walked from patient to patient handing them a packet.

Once all the packets had been passed out, a nurse named Vanessa spoke from the front of the room.

"Good morning patients!" She said cheerily.

I groaned.  I didn't want to hear her overly happy voice. I wanted to hear Gerard's voice. Nothing else.

"You'll be reading the packet provided aloud when demanded by your medical supervisor.  Never even glance at your packet unless you're demanded to. " She smiled. "You may begin whenever your supervisor commands you to."

I looked at who my supervisor would be. Jeph. Thank God.

Jeph was a pretty cool guy. He had a few secrets. I had figured out what he was hiding and thought it silly to have to hide such an innocent thing. Tattoos and piercings.  His ears were pierced, but you'd never notice without carefully searching for those little black gages hidden underneath the mope of sideswept black hair on his head. I'd also noticed that on his hands there were depictions that appeared as fades photographs from hundreds of years ago. I'd decided that they were tattoos with makeup over them to make them blend into his skin. I'd noticed the same situation on his neck.

"Hello, I'm Jeph and I'll be your supe-"

He didn't finish his sentence before the little girl from our group started crying and screaming.

Everyone in the room stared at the girl in utter horror while she continued to scream.

I wanted to go to her. To comfort her. To tell her it will br okay. But the truth is, it won't. She will be sent to "the box" whether I comfort her or not and I'll be sent with her.

For a few moments, the haunting screams of the girl were all that could be heard.

Then a few figures dressed in white barged into the room. They had white masks that only had holes for eyes concealing their identity from all us crazies to discover.

The figures scooped up the little girl as she continued to cry and flung her over their shoulder.

They moved gruffly out of the room and took the little girl with them.  Probably to "the box".

I suddenly felt a pang of guilt for not trying to stop. We all knew what happened in the box though.  And that's not something We want to risk. However selfish that sounds,  "the box" was horrifying.

After a few seconds of silence, everything went on as if nothing had even occurred. Although this wasn't just a hallucination in the minds of the insane, this is reality. Sometimes the line between insanity and reality is nothing but a thread existing in time and space.

"Hello, my name is Jeph and I'll be your supervisor for today. I'd like you to begin reading as soon as I call upon your name and stop immediately when I call on the name of the next reader.  If you notice any flashes of light, black outs, dizziness, confusion, light headed, blurry vision, or anyother common issues, it's crucial you make it known immediately. Scarlett, you may begin the reading." Jeph continued unphased by the event that had happened only seconds ago.

I began to read with ease. The material was quite a bore and it was some short bibliography on Shakespeare.

I was cut off and another patient took over the reading.

I heard the door of the arts and crafts room click and saw the two concealed figures slip in escorting the young girl.

They sat thr poor darling in her seat then silently abandoned the room to go back to wherever they go in their free time.

I looked at the little girl. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, but a few new features took her face.

Two dark red cuts on her face were clearly fresh and visible along with bruises lining her cheeks.

They held no mercy in "the box". You had made a mistake and no decision goes without consequence whether it be positive or negative.

You buy your tears with pain. Pain for emotional expression. Everything holds a cost.

Even the freedom of your heart comes at a high price.

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