Static

CHAPTER TWO

      The doctor began placing sticky patches that were connected to wires on my forehead and on the back of my skull.  I let her, there was no way I was going to fight this when I was already in enough trouble as is. 
      "Entrance in three, two, one."  Right as Dr. Kumke finished her count down an indescribable pain shocked me at my core, sending ripples of agony through my veins. I felt my mouth open in a silent scream but I'm not sure if I made any noise, my ears weren't working properly.

       Then it started.  They did this at the beginning I remember it all to well.  It was the same process that render all of the other girls hallow and forever traumatized.  First they insert images of suffering and torture of others in your mind, showing you how cruel the rest of the world is.  Then you trade spots with them, feeling every type of pain from bullet wounds to extreme hunger to having a limb slowly sawed off while you watch it happen.  But I know it's an illusion, that it's not real, yet my mind is so convinced that the fear is there, and the pain, and so I suffer. 

       I remember it usually lasts less than a minuet but it feels longer, like a whole day.  My eyes stay opened but I can't see anything, I can't feel my body jerking on the cot but I know it is, and I can't hear the noises I make even though I know I'm screaming my throat raw. 

       When I open my eyes, it takes a while for me to get my bearings.
      When I finally do, when the room stops spinning and the machinery around me comes into focus, I am not the same but they still haven't gotten me. Move survived it again.
      My heart is beating so rapidly I feel that if I don't press my hands there as hard as I can it might burst out of my chest. 

      I'm sweating and my brown hair has fallen out of its ponytail and is covering half of my face.
     I try and sit up, try and fight against the lingering images of death and pain that still swim around in my thoughts.  It does no good.

    "Roach, are you ok?  Oh my gosh..."  I see Flea just barely, her hands pressed on either side of her head, I can tell from her panicked expression that something is wrong.  That and Dr. Kumke is on the floor, convulsing violently at her feet.
     I can't react, I'm too shocked, too fresh out of the fiery underworld I'd just gone through.  But, I can say that there is a considerable difference in the length this time.  Three years ago it was so much worse, so much more horrific. But this time it was shorter, still awful, but there was less time to experience that awfulness. 

    Dr. Kumke abruptly stops, her once shaking and twitching body now lies still and motionless on the cold tile floor.
     "What-". I try to speak, try to get Flea's attention but she won't take her eyes off Dr. Kumke.
     "You killed her."  Flea whispers, her lips barley moving.  "You-". She looks up at me now, her eyes as wide as a cows.  "Roach, you killed her!"  She doesn't scream it, but it sounds like she wants to.  But Flea is smart, she won't let her fear make her yell when there's a chance someone could here her, come and find us and Dr. Kumke, creating an even bigger chasm of trouble we'd just flung ourselves into.

    I still can't speak hardly more than a word.  I'm too frightened.  The thoughts in my mind won't go away, the feelings won't leave and I'm too weak to force them out.  The odd thing is, I can't seem to recall anything that was shone to me.  I couldn't do it the first time either.  The images and illusions might be gone but they tore open old wounds and left scars behind.  I just can't remember what caused them.

      "Roach, we have to go tell someone."  She says, nudging Dr. Kumke with her toe as if she still can't believe she's really dead.
     "What happened to her?"  I squeak, sitting up on the cot and trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my skull.
    "You.  You happened.  It was so bad, Roach, you didn't even know you'd done it!  What are we going to do?" 
   "What did I do?"  I started pulling the patches off my head and dropping them on the cot.  I didn't want to risk the machine coming back on and projecting more nightmares into my head.