Breaking Chains

Hand Warmer

Celia looked around the room, watching for any sign of threatening activity, as she rolled forward. Celia was watching her and Samantha could see the tips of her hair jutting out from the column and she could barely discern her pale arm wrapped around the white surface.

“Two twenty-one?” she asked the column.

“They’re deaf at this distance....” came a quiet voice. Samantha wheeled herself to face the column and Celia came into view. She was hugging the column like a best friend. “Better if they just think you're speaking to a column.”

“What if they tell the White Coat?” Samantha asked, throwing a quick look over her shoulder. “He’ll think I’m crazy.”  

“You’re thoughts are silly,” was Celia’s only answer. “They’re all twisty and confused.” Her hand reached out again and played with something in the air. Samantha stared at her strange new companion but said nothing.

“Right, do you know what’s wrong with the ?” Samantha said. Celia peeked past her at the woman writing in her notepad. The firelight played across her face.

“Oh, the killer,” Celia said. “She drinks from the bottle. It’s very dangerous. It can make you high or low.”

“The bottle?” Samantha asked. “Are you talking about alcohol? Is that a code word for something?” Samantha lifted a lazy finger at the nurses then quickly wrapped it back around the column.

“They bring it.” Samantha twisted her head.

“The nurses bring it? Medicine? Are you talking about the medicine?” Celia shook her head.

“Medicine makes you better,” she whispered. “Like kisses.” Like usual the conversation was lost on Samantha but she was starting to get use to that by now.

“What is it then?” Samantha asked. “Poison? Are they killing us?” Celia giggled into her hand. Her eyes lit up when she laughed, Samantha noted. It brought the color back to her face and made her seem like a normal girl, not a malnourished prisoner. “Did I miss something again?” Celia nodded, her hair bouncing along with the rest of her face.

“Not kill. Make you low or high.” She pointed to the the woman with the notepad who was grinning and sniggering to herself. “High,” she said. Then she pointed to another woman who was lying on the floor and drooling on herself. “Low.”

“So they keep everyone here drugged,” Samantha said. Her voice was starting to adopt the whisper that Celia was using. “Is that why you’re always so loopy?” Celia smiled to herself.

“I don’t drink. Then they tried putting it in cake. Now I don’t eat.” She made it sound as if she had figured out something terribly clever.

“Are you insa...” Samantha’s voice trailed off. She looked at Celia, really looked at her. Her breathing was ragged and she was probably whispering to conserve energy or because her mouth was too dry from not having drank anything. Underneath the white dress her legs were shaking and the tips of her fingers were cherry red from holding onto the pillar. She wasn’t holding onto the pillar because she liked it but because she couldn’t keep herself up without it. “You idiot!” she hissed. “You can barely stand.”

“Minor detail,” Celia dismissed.

“Sit down!” Samantha ordered.

“Can’t. Won’t be able to stand again.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Same thing thats wrong with you.”

“There is nothing wrong with me,” Samantha snapped.