DELTA

S01 (Beneath the Skin): E01 {Thousand Eyes}

I'm staring into a pure white wall, and sitting on a leather patient bed that sticks to my skin. My eyes travel to my arms. Dried blood filled the spots where I hurt myself. The hilarious thing is that I don't remember anything. Blood is staining my white shirt.

I hear a click; the door swings open. A tall man, wearing a gas mask, ignores my presence as he writes on his clipboard.

"Alexander Orman. Age: nine." He raises an eyebrow in my direction as I nod, "You're in big trouble, kid."

As if on cue, multiple doctors show up. The main doctor cleans a needle. I fidget. Slowly, I corner myself against the wall. A large adam's apple in my throat.

"Restrain him." The gas mask making the request drip with venom. The others attempt to grasp my arms and legs as I kick.

"This'll be less painless for you and me if you stop squealing, kid."

My arms and legs began to give; my voice strong.

"Don't! Please!" I scream, "What did I do wrong?"

The needle burns as it sinks in. I let out a shriek. The process repeated three more times. Stop it. Stop the pain. Please.

"And one more."

A younger doctor spoke up, "Mark, please. He's just a kid. We've never done the procedure five times. Four is the lim--"

"I don't give a shit about the limit! He murdered my daughter!" Doctor Mark yelled back. He then clenched his jaw and glared daggers at me, "He murdered my daughter!"

Without warning, he stabbed me hard in the leg. I see blood trailing down to my feet; the smell of iron filling up my nose.

"Repent, Alexander Orman, and I won't install the drug a... sixth time."

I shut my mouth, and I bite my tongue. Not only does blood stain my clothes, it stains my mouth. I'll never back down to someone as cowardly as him. Someone who hides behind a needle and a mask.

"Never." I hiss. Blood dripping from the corner of my mouth.

"So be it." He's in the motion of plunging the needle into my skin.

My vision goes dark.

❖

I'm in a chair. The room pitch black. I don't even know if it is a room. In front of me was a screen. The Dr. Mark from before laid dead on the floor along with a few other doctors.

"What did this?" I shiver.

"You." A voice from behind me said. I turn and see... me. My... reflection is pale and there's eyes that shift from black to white like ink.

"You did this."

"What are you?" I ask.

"You should be asking: 'what are we?'"

A piercing shriek rings in my ears.

"Murders."

Make the pain end, please. I don't want this.

"Killers."

Momma. Where is momma?

"Losers."

"Shut up!" I punch the reflection and it fades to ash. And I see color.

❖

I emerge from the hospital room as if nothing had happened. There's sirens, followed by screams, followed by the burning of a fire.

"There he is! That's the kid! That kid killed my boyfriend!" A young lady shouted.

I bolted. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I search for the one women who I know loves me. My momma. I look everywhere for her; I still couldn't see her.

The police were hot on my tail. I felt a pair of arms grab me. I shout and cry. I begged for the demon to not come out.

"Don't... please... do, do, don't do... this. Don't hu... hurt them." I shiver. I shut my eyes in hopes to stop the ringing noise.

"I won't hurt you." The voice was soothing. Nothing like the harsh tone I received before. "I'm sorry, kid; I don't have a say." The arms picked me up and carried me to a van.

The dark ride over to wherever we were going was comforting.

❖

I was tied down in one of those insanity robes that tie down my hands. The room was deadly white. I shuffled to the door to see if I could open it, but stopped as doctors walked in. Not. Again. My head pounds.

The doctors were followed by my parents. Mum was crying and dad was distant. I know my dad, and I know that he doesn't cry for anything; I also know he hates me, and that he's never home. I wanted to run over and hug my mum, but the restraints stopped me.

I could see my mum mouth 'my baby' over and over again. My dad's hard stare looked accusingly at me. I couldn't see the judgement behind the doctor's glasses. I only made out small words such as 'issues', 'mental health', 'unstable', and 'in attempt to put him down'.

That's what the other hospital tried to do. Kill a child for murdering. What an oxymoron. They plan to keep me here— in this mental hospital— to 'cure' me. My father looks obligated to agree; contradicting my mother's puffy, red eyes. They leave. The doctors followed behind.

I had no perception of time. They could've been gone for fifteen minutes— an hour— and I wouldn't know. The doctors returned— without Mum and Dad.

"Hello Alexander, was it?" One doctor— she appeared younger like a college student. "Your parents agreed to the terms and allowed us to take care you." Her smile broadened despite the situation. "How about I show you around, sweetheart?"

"It's Alex."

"Pardon?"

"Call me Alex, please. I hate my full name." I desperately wanted to add: It reminds me too much about my absent father. The one who put me in this situation. But I know they don't care. They're only there for the paycheck.

❖