Eccentric [h.s] *ON HOLD*

fourteen.

According to Beth, you would acknowledge Cecelia's presence from hearing her curse the nurses from her lonely cell. "I personally knew Cecilia. She was put in Ward A before the warden transferred her to C. Cecilia is a just a sad person, she is who is she because of the tolls taken in her life." Beth tells me as we walk back to the Ward A room.

"Yeah, I guessed that." I respond quietly, my head spinning. I feel like throwing up since my brain's immediate reaction is to put the pieces together. Beth notices and puts her hand on my shoulder, a look of concern on her face.

"You don't look so well, dear, are you alright?" She asks me as I massage my temples. All that sits at the front of my mind are images of the warden kissing the doctor, and their sadistic selves discussing the burial of a patient.

"Um...yeah." I nod, feeling my head throb. "I just...I was just thinking."

"You sure nothing's bothering you?"

I blink several times, lost in my thoughts as I speak. "The first and last time I saw Cecilia, she was in the main corridor cutting herself and cursing the death of the staff. They sedated her and dragged her into a room at the very end of the corridor."

A frown appears on Beth's perfectly arranged features. "The Torture Room."

My eyebrows raise at the name, the little hairs at the nape of my neck standing tall. "The Torture Room?"

Beth nods, gulping as she does so. "It's where I was taken when I just simply asked the nurses if they knew where my baby girl was. She went missing the very day I was going to name her, and I'm sure the staff took her away." Her lips quiver but she doesn't cry. "Was it wrong of me to want my child back?"

"No, it wasn't, and what they did to you was incredibly unfair." I state, pity overwhelming me.

"They beat me, put me through electrotherapy, but that won't stop me." She says angrily, turning to me when we reach the Ward A room. "Pain can't numb the feeling of love."

-

That night, I dream of the Torture Room.

My imagination creates a scene for me- a dark room full of electrotherapy machines and whips. Bloodstains on the walls and the patients tormented until they meet their deaths. Their voices pleading for mercy with none given. The doctors and nurses and warden laughing at their pain. They are all involved in this.

I wake up in the middle of the night, my skin clammy and drenched in sweat. My chest pains as I close my eyes and flashes of my gory dream appear. I open my eyes again and look over to my side to see Beth sound asleep.

I've noticed that she always has a hand placed her stomach in her sleep, probably a habit from the time she was pregnant. The room is filled with the sound of everyone's breathing, and the extremely warm temperature is something I have gotten used to. I pull the sheets aside, and quietly leave my bed.

I just need to see Harry.

The door is usually left open, since it would be easy for the nurses to take care of a troublesome inmate in the early am. I peer through the doorway, careful not to make a sound as I look both ways. The corridors are empty and the lights are turned off. Usually, most nurses and security guards go home while another takes over their shift, but the night shift staff don't do their job properly. They just spend their working hours snoozing along with the inmates.

But that has it's plus sides, of course.

I look over my shoulder before walking quietly but hastily, easily past the nurse corridor, making my way up the dusty stone steps, through the Ward A corridor, until I am met by a dark hallway. It is merely lit by a few lightbulbs, some which are close to burning out. The entire area is lined up with locked cells, making it even eerier. The other inmates aren't allowed in this corridor, for it being too risky.

I remember Harry telling me about the guy who sleeps with his eyes open, and my scalp begins to prickle. I avoid looking into each cell for too long, which gives me enough time to just identify Harry and get it over with. Just as I thought, the security guard has dozed off- slumped on a wooden chair, head hanging back and snoring loudly. There is saliva running down the corners of his open mouth.

Gross.

Walking carefully around the the guard, I check the other cells, one in which I spot Harry. Thankfully, he isn't asleep, just lying on the bed on his back, knees in the air as he plays with his fingers. I walk over to the cells, and clasp my hands around the metal bars, looking through.

"Harry!" I whisper as quietly as possible, repeating his name a few times until he hears and sits himself up on his elbow. Seeing that it's me, his eyes widen as he gets off the uncomfortable looking bed and comes up to the cell bars, holding the bars as well. His cold fingers graze mine.

"Gracie, what are you doing here? You're going to get caught love." He whisper-hisses as I lean into the bars further, close enough that he could touch my cheek.

"I had a bad dream..." I tell him, feeling the frown on my face, "And it was about something Beth told me."

Harry's expression changes as well, his eyebrows knit. He thinks for a moment before peering as far as he can through the bars and glances back at me.

"Grab the key from hanger on the wall..." Harry uses his hands as he struggles to reach the lock placed on the cell, "Make sure the keys don't clink." He adds, and I give him a quick nod as I walk silently past the deep sleeping guard, my eyes glued to the key hanger a few feet behind him. At this time, I suck in my breath, forgetting to breathe. I mentally groan. My palms are sweaty and slick, so it doesn't make it any better.

I look back at Harry, and his mouth is ajar as he nods his head rapidly, waiting for me to make my move. I don't know why, but I'm kind of proud of myself for doing this. It's in my character to be rebellious, but never have I done anything like this. Especially with the harsh repercussions I'd have to deal with if I got caught. Just the thought of the Torture Room makes me shudder.

"Grace!" I hear Harry whisper as a warning. I look at my hands and they have the keys in them. The keys swing back and forth slightly, the aftermath of my unknown shudder. Immediately, I hear the guard's snoring halt, and my heart thrashes against my ribcage. I see his silhouette's head roll over his alternate shoulder as he returns to his slumber again. Harry and I look at each other with a silent sigh in relief as I bring the keys over to his cells and unlock the lock.

The cell door slightly creaks as Harry slowly pushes his way through it, grimacing at the sound it makes. I instantly grab a hold of his hand, afraid if this was a bad decision. All that seems to be replaying in my head is that stupid nightmare. He slips his hand out of my grasp and reassuringly puts it on top of mine protectively.

"Wait, I've gotta do something first." He leans in and whispers into my ear, his warm breath tickling my skin. He pulls a rag out of his jumpsuit and quietly walks around the guard's chair, until he's standing directly behind him. Something of a clever smile appears onto his face as he presses the rag under the guard's nose. I hear a muffled breath, before his head hangs low again.

"This should keep him from waking up for a while." Harry simply says, leaving my mouth hanging wide open at how badass he is. He shoves the rag back into his suit as he wraps his arm around my waist, leading me out of the sickening air of the Ward C corridor.