The Ivory Tower

Chapter Five

White light blinded me. Thunderous pounding exploded in my temples and through my forehead. I raised my hands to the side of my head. My fingers slid over smooth tape and soft gauze. I jumped up, alarmed.

An onslaught of pain and light flooded my head. I closed my eyes, willing myself to calm down, waiting until the thumping subsided, until it was nothing more than a muted annoyance. I reopened them, careful to keep my movements slow.

The ceilings were white, matching the walls, and a netted cloth hung from a railing surrounding my bed, almost creating a screen of privacy in the open room. A creative ruse designed to comfort me while I remained under the watchful eyes of the doctors and guards.

The severity of the room seemed to soften as I saw Christine scrunched into the seat next to me. The majority of her body lay hidden behind a stack of medical supplies, boxes, IV stands, and beeping monitors. I pushed myself up, flinching as flames shot up my right hand, overshadowing the pounding in my head.

"Christine?" I croaked.

My friend's eyes fluttered and settled on me with a smile. "You're up and okay," she said, reaching for my non-bandaged hand. "You scared me." She offered a gentle squeeze and a sad smile.

"What happened?" I asked, glancing around.

She scooted forward, the chair squeaking under her, and leaned in. "You don't remember anything?"

"It's all foggy," I admitted. "What happened?"

Christine's fingers trembled as she ran them through her hair and lowered her voice. "It was that tower. I warned you about it. I told you to forget about it, but you couldn't...or didn't." I heard an edge in her voice beneath her concern.

"The tower?" I asked, feeling haunted by the familiar words. "I don't remember anything about it."

A look of relief washed over Christine, and her eyes softened in an instant. "That's probably for the best. We don't need to worry about that now. Anyway, you're just lucky the guards were there to find you in time. Everything else will go back to normal. No one will even notice after a while. And we'll be busy soon enough with the factory."

"The factory..." My voice faded, and my eyes drifted around the room. A small group of people looked over as they walked by us. It seemed as if the room slowed, holding its breath to watch me. A crooked smile darkened a guard's mouth as he checked off his paperwork, and the nurses' pace slackened as they walked past. Everything seemed to slow, except for Christine. Her words tumbled out faster than my mind could comprehend.

"Wait, no one will notice? Notice what?" I asked. I grabbed my face, feeling other bandages. "What really happened?" I pointed to the gauze covering my forehead, feeling the tender wounds wrapped in bandages on my right palm.

She opened her mouth to answer but closed it, looking behind me and then at her lap. I followed her gaze and saw a doctor approaching in a stiff, pleated white lab coat. Blue and gold embroidered patches covered his pockets and collar. He pulled a red pen from the chest pocket of his lab coat and tapped it against the edge of a clipboard. His eyes twinkled darkly under the fluorescent lights.

"You gave us a scare, young lady," he said, checking the vitals on the machines. "Care to tell us what you were doing by that tower?"

I glanced over at Christine, but she still looked at her lap, her white-knuckled hands twisted around each other.

"I'm not sure what you mean," I answered quickly.

His red pen marked notes in my chart before he continued without looking up. "Your friend and the guards brought you in a week ago. They found you near the abandoned tower in the woods. If they hadn't found you in time, there's no telling what might have happened. You were lucky. The contaminant levels in that area are still off the charts. It's a blessing you made it here when you did and that we still had the old medication."

"Thanks," I mumbled.

He raised an eyebrow. "If I were you, I would be a bit more grateful. You're lucky the guards were there to protect you and to protect the rest of us from any contamination. We had to take drastic measures to save you," he said, nodding toward my hand. "But you are alive. I hope you've learned a lesson. The boundaries are there to protect us—for our own good. It would serve you well to remember that in the future." He looked at me hard before making the final marks on the chart.

"For our own good," I whispered, letting those words float in my mind.

I looked outside. The frayed tips of the striped flag blew in the wind. When the bell rang, I closed my eyes. My head hit the pillow, and I sighed.

"Yes, it's for our own good."

*Simone's story continues in a full length novel, Pale Bricks
You can find all links here: http://www.kirstinstein.com/books.html