The Loyal Alone

Chapter Thirteen

Just him placing the driver against the head of the screw was excruciating, I screamed, feeling my stomach flop, the world around my tilted throwing my stomach against my ribs, bile rose to my throat and I spewed from the pain, dry heaving when it was all gone. Gasping for air

"Such a low pain tolerance," he says as he tosses the screw driver to the tray. "I'm sorry to do that to you, I should have checked them before you'd woke. Suppose you won't want breakfast first then? Perhaps it's best after we do some tests." He grabs scissors and cuts the shoulders away from my shirt and then cuts it up the middle, peeling my soaking shirt away from my skin and leaving my top half exposed. He then unbuttons my pants and yanks them off of me in a swift movement, catching on the shoes. He stops to remove my sneakers, and then finishes taking my pants off.

I'm now completely naked.

"No need to worry about the mess," he says. "This is a medical room, we are equipped to handle it." I sat there shuddering. Shaking from the vomit, nearly retching again from the smell, feeling exposed.

Johnson had put the tray down and grabbed a white towel, he wipes my face off before offering me water, but I am shaking so hard, so afraid now, that I cannot breathe, let alone drink. My arm still hurts, throbbing with pain as it vibrates up my arm, I convinced myself I could feel it in my spine.

Johnson sets the water down and grabs my upper arm to help me sit up completely and then stand. I'd noticed briefly that my ankles were not in chains. Johnson keeps ahold of my upper arm, to support me, or keep me from running, something, and he grabs a red hose from the other side of the room, testing the heat before spraying me down with a light warm stream.

Dr. Olly waits for him to finish cleaning me off at the other end of the room, staying away from it as much as he can.

"This smell is abhorrent." His hand is on his nose, "I hate that seed bread you make." He rolls his eyes at the scene. Johnson starts spraying the bed off. He pats himself down hands searching in his pockets. "Of course, I forgot the key. If you weren't bolted to the bed, I'd have us switch rooms." He turns to leave, "call me back when the smell is gone." He leaves.

When Johnson is done spraying the bed off, he follows the vomit with a stream of water across the floor to a large drain. And then he tosses the hose to the side of the room he got it from. He hands me a towel to dry myself off with. But as I move my wrists, it hurts. He tries to take it from me, to help me perhaps, but I growl at him and he steps back. I dry myself off as much as I can, my hands shaking under the weight and then hold the towel to my chest, not wanting to move more than I need to. I glance as the chains connected to my wrists. Standing next to the bed, there was little slack from them.

Johnson takes his time to clean my bed with Clorox and dries it thoroughly. He then grabs a robe from a supply cabinet.

"Here," he says quietly, handing it to me, but his eyes glance down at the chains and we both realize that it would be impossible for me to put it on. He sets it on the chair, and then goes back to the cupboard. "We have others, they just aren't here." He turns to look at me, but glances down with a red face. "I'm sorry. I must clean this up first. I will grab you a new robe in a moment." He walks back over to me and hands me the first robe, I wrap it around myself and hold it together in front of me along with the towel, needing as many layers between myself and them as I can get. My wrists are now shaking from the weight of the chains drooping slowly and I have to hunch over slightly to keep myself covered. I'm not used to this amount of weight dragging me down. I can't sit in the chair, it's too far away. My only choice is to get back to the bed.

With some struggle, I managed to get up on it and slide myself into a sitting position at the edge of the bed.

"Why restrain me like this?"