Oxy-Gen | ONC 2024

Cell | 1178

"Where am I?" was my first thought as I stared into abyss of darkness. My phone was confiscated, I couldn't rely on it, so I reached out my hand into nothingness. I walked until I touched a wall and from there, I tried to use my sense of touch to figure out where I was. Mapping out my surroundings and after maybe half an hour, I think I was confined in a square cell.

But why?

Suddenly lights came on from the ground and lit up the whole room and I found myself in a white room in a white jumpsuit. "What is this?" I shouted but there was still no reply. Food was provided from a chute but even then, it was white, white rice. I ate in silence but then the room was having an effect on me.

"What time is it now?" I was talking loudly to myself. "Night? Day? Hello? What do you want?" I asked repeatedly, but there was no reply. No sound, no movement. Nothing. I was confined in a white room, alone with my thoughts, with nothing else around. I slept, I woke up, sometimes there was rice, sometimes there wasn't. I don't know how long it has been. My mind, my body, my internal clock—everything about the shit room was torture.

What kind of sick experiment they are doing here?!

I punched the wall but there wasn't even a dent on it.

I was bored out of my mind, as I counted and recounted my fingers, the strands of my hair, anything that I can count by. It was a mental torture that was slowly killing me.

The mafia nowadays got creative. They are killing people without really killing them. I am practically buried alive, in a white coffin, waiting to die.

"What do you want to know? I can tell you guys anything. Just let me go!" I yelled and I threw tantrums like a kid on the floor but there was no reply. It was left on deaf ears.

"Mark?" I blinked my eyes.

My brother was standing there in front of me, with his giant leaves, there was more of it now and I called out to him, "Mark? You are here?"

He nodded, his arms extending for an embrace. Hope surged within me as I stepped forward, eager to wrap myself in his familiar warmth. But as my arms closed around the emptiness, reality crashed back in—I was clutching only air.

I slunk down to my knees and started sobbing on the ground like a child with a broken toy.

That was the moment when I heard it again.

The voices.

Experiment. Pain! Hurt... Help?.... help...

"Help me too," I whispered back softly, so soft that it was barely audible over the sound of my own tears streaming down my cheeks until they dried, and exhaustion overwhelmed me, and I finally drifted into a fitful sleep. No one would come and consoled me except the voices. At least they provided me with a strange comfort that chained me to reality. Without them, my mind would have crashed and burned into a million pieces but...

For how long?

.

Unknown to Jessica, she was watched like a lab rat, "It seems like there's nothing on her," said a small, hunched man. Still frail as ever, sitting in his chair, it was the Chairman. His wrinkly and unsteady finger pushed the intercom, and commanded the scientists, "Take it away. She not's interacting with plants. It's wasting resources."

Following his instructions, the scientists took the slashed plants, injured and dead to the dustbin.

"Dear husband, I don't think she could speak to plants," said his wife, Mrs. Pavan.

"It seems so. But she said it before. In the conversation with Ishaan."

"Maybe it was just hallucination on her part. Her body does seem to be quite low on Vitamin D when we found her."

"But what if she does? Then our secret will be ruined by her ability. We can't let anyone. I mean ANYONE to know."

"Except me right, darling?"

He held her hand and planted a kiss on it, "Of course, my lovely love bug. Without you, I would still be in the ditch somewhere."

"But you fucked up," said someone as the door opened and a young man with glasses entered the room. It was their son, Vihaan. "You went and hid a mistress and a son, from your devoted wife and young son."

"Let by gone be by gone," said Mrs. Pavan as she looked over at the Chairman, with love. There were ups and downs, but she knew that he was the only one, a king who would turn her dreams into reality, and sustain that dream. She met his gaze with a honeyed smile, dripping sweet nectar while hiding her greed and poison akin to a serpent.

The Chairman planted another kiss on his loving wife, "Water under the bridge."

"Cause now you have a better son," retorted Vihaan. "Just so, you know. I am the only one that is clear headed in this family."

"How is Ishaan doing?" asked Mrs. Pavan, annoyed by her own biological son. Sometimes she can't believe how he came from her. Ambitious, yes but hadn't had the skills to back it up. All bark and no bite.

"Not dead yet, he's trying to harm himself by injecting himself with supplements," he stated it nonchalantly. "But we took it away, so he can't injure himself any further. I can't let the golden boy of the family be hurt, can't I?"

"Good job at containing your brother," praised Mrs. Pavan. "But try to ease up on the jealousy in your tone. We love both of you equally," she added, prompting an eye roll from Vihaan.

The Chairman patted his wife's hand, "He will come around. He always does. He will understand. Family bonds are the most important thing in this family."

"Like how you lead him to kill his own mother?" stated Vihaan.

"Vihaan!" his mother scolded. "That's disrespectful. Your father was teaching him a 'lesson'."

"And a very important one at that," added Mr. Pavan.

"And what's that? Dear father."

The Chairman smiled, a grimace, teasing, playful, "Don't have a weakness. His mother was what held him back. And now this girl will too. I must remove them before they become a real obstacle. For the Fern Co. will be launching a new revolutionary project soon and we will eliminate anything that might even for a tiny chance be a hindrance."

"A new project? I haven't heard about it at all, even though I am the CEO," questioned Vihaan at his parents.

His mother corrected Vihaan's collar, "Don't be impatient. It will be revealed soon enough," as her hands smoothed out the creases on his shirt.

"Listen to your mother," warned his father as he looked over at Jessica who was still in the white room. "She will die soon. Remove her cleanly. And the details on her and her family, remember to clean them up neat and tidy. Don't leave any loose ends. Like Malik. Once is a mistake, twice is inane."

The mention of 'Malik' froze Vihaan, and he didn't object further, "Yes, father. I will make sure that it's 'gracefully' handle this time around."

.

(1178 words)

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