Remember readers, italics are the thoughts.
It has been one hour. One hour since I was given the job to guard this cell. One hour since I've been standing here. One hour since my ears have been begging to run off to somewhere, maybe to Africa.
One hour since I've been tortured.
"And then, she comes to me like, 'Eww, nerd glasses? So not my style, bro' and I'm like 'Well, obviously you have a horrible style'. I didn't say that...I mean, her brother was right beside her so...obviously not a good idea," he shrugged.
For the last time: I really don't care, prisoner.
He pretended to look at a non-existent wristwatch.
Weirdo.
"Oh my, would you look at that! It's time, baby. Sorry, I'll try my best not to kill you, but no guarantee," he said.
Wait...what?
I turned my neck around to see what he was doing. He walked to the corner of the cell and did something, I'm not too sure what though. But I don't think I'd like to know.
Some things are better off as a mystery.
He came back towards me with a small, metallic stick in his hand.
He can use that as a weapon although I'm better armed than him. Anyways, what will he do with a small stick anyways? Poke me?
But then, he did something unexpected. He laid down on the cold, hard, and rough floor and closed his eyes as if to sleep.
Why didn't he sleep on the mattress provided for this exactly? This is weird.
I wonder when am I gonna sleep...so today is Wednesday and I get to sleep on Thursdays and Sundays. One more day to go, yay.
I continued looking straight ahead at a grey brick wall.
Grey, grey, grey...Fifty shades of grey! I've never read it, though the movie was pretty good! Now that I wonder...what's even going on in Hollywood these days? Does Hollywood even exist? Under these guys, I doubt.
They're a bore.
Python...the evil bastards who torture the people by ruling over them. The one who destroyed the world as we knew it. Well, just the Americas, really. The ones who threw my freedom away like...a broken toothbrush. I swear I'll get my revenge someday.
Is my mom even alive now? Dad? My friends, who never cared for me? My manager? Disney?
What if they're all dead? What if Disney is dead?
Not like I can do anything anyways unless they tell me to. It's like I'm their robot.
In midst of my thoughts, I feel something coming in contact with the back of my neck in a painful way. Something cold, hard, and metallic. My mind was definitely panicked.
Ah, shit. What's happening?
My body immediately went into defense mode and I was about to turn around to check what exactly had happened, but couldn't because of the sharp twinge of pain on the injured spot. The tinge quickly spread through my entire body, like a forest fire. I fell to the metallic floor, unable to scream or yell or even groan. This pain is something I've never felt before. It's unusual.
And trust me, for the past seven years my life's been anything but painless.
Fuck. What's happening, seriously? Why can't I do anything? Why is this so painful?
All this happened within seconds, and all I could do was kiss the ground by falling over.
Curse you program S4.
"Damn, what's happening to you?" The prisoner, Walter, whispered. His words sounded slurred he was drunk, or I was. I tried moving around, but couldn't. It was just like I was frozen.
I might be dying here.
The pain increased until it reached a point that made me feel numb. I wanted to scream, or do something, but I couldn't even produce a single sound. I knew that I would go unconscious sooner or later, but I tried my best to stay awake.
They'd torture me if I took a nap on duty.
But if I'm dying, then please let it be quick and painless.
Then came a point at which I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. Giving up, I closed them, thank the Gods, not forever.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Ugh..." I groaned as I massaged my forehead, which seemed to be hurting a lot, like a migraine. Taking a few deep breaths, I opened my eyes to find myself in the very same place I was before going unconscious. Although, everything was blurry like I need spectacles.
Geez, I would look ugly in them. Especially in those big, 'Harry Potter' glasses.
My entire body tingled, in an unusual way. I didn't pay much attention to it, as my headache was much more distracting and painful.
I tried to sit up, but that required more strength than I had right now. So I stayed in that position, down on the cold, hard floor as I continued massaging my head.
Did I eat something bad? Is that why my head's aching? But the only thing I've eaten in the last seven years are those pills. Would that cause a headache?
My entire body felt numb and somewhat unusual. Very unusual, to be precise. Everything felt different. Good different or bad different, I'm not sure.
I felt like I'm in a new body, a new person. I felt much more relaxed than earlier, the reason still remains unknown.
"Lady, you okay?" I heard a voice ask.
I didn't reply, well, because I didn't feel the need to. That, and I didn't want to waste any more energy. Besides, my mouth felt dry. Like I haven't had water in ages.
To be honest, I don't remember the last drink I had. Do I have memory loss?
Hope not.
I managed to sit up against the wall behind me.
"Water..." I croaked, my voice hoarse.
Do I have a sore throat? Or cough? I don't remember having either of them.
I heard shuffling noises near me, which surprised me. I didn't realize that there was someone here. Hopefully, whoever they are, choose to help me.
"Here," the same voice from earlier said, handing me a plastic glass of water within the bars of the cell. I turned to my right to see...Walter.
Oh. Now I remember. Walter Franklin, prisoner.
I slowly took the glass from his hands, and hesitantly drank it, not thinking whether there was something mixed in it or not. Even if there was, I was way too thirsty to leave it.
The water made me relax a little bit and allowed me to speak. The headache, although, didn't reduce.
"Are you better now?" Walter asked, looking concerned. I nodded, weakly, unsure of why he was concerned.
"Um...can you speak?" He questioned, hesitantly. I nodded, still in pain due to my headache. It actually felt like a hangover.
Not that I've ever had one, it's just what I had seen in the movies. Although, if this is what a hangover is like, I swear I will never get drunk.
Right then, I realized something I could've realized ages ago if not for the headache.
I'm able to do what my mind tells me to. I can finally control my body. I can...do anything I want to.
I'm free. I'm not trapped in me anymore.
I am free.
"I can speak. I can speak!" I yelled out as loud as possible, just to be sure that I can actually speak.
This is the best thing happened to me in the last seven years.
I'm free, but how? Is it my fault?
My eyes widen in realization, and I start panicking. What will they do to me if they got to know about this? How did this happen anyways? They will definitely be pissed. My breathing gets faster, my mind unable to think.
They will destroy me in the most painful way possible.
"You...what did you do?" I demanded, grabbing his collar by somehow fitting my hand through the bars, my anger fuelling my energy.
It felt weird voicing my thoughts. I had forgotten what it was like to speak what you mean.
"What...what did I do?" He asked, confused and scared.
"You...someone or something hit me. I know it was you," I shook my head. He seemed to be very frightened.
Of course, he should. I have the power to kill him.
Yet, he didn't say a word.
"Answer me, prisoner," I growled, tightening my grip around his shirt. Whatever he did certainly wasn't good. He nodded.
"I-I-I just wanted to escape. So, I kinda hit you with this," he said, gesturing towards the small, metallic stick. But it was so small, just so tiny. How could that reach upto my neck?
I probably looked confused, and maybe that's why he pressed a really small, almost microscopic, button, which I was barely able to see. The stick immediately broke into four parts, each part then grew longer in size and thinner in circumference. After a few seconds, all the parts joined to form a long stick.
I wonder how he managed to get this past the security...although the security in here just pretends to be strict, but it actually isn't.
It's not so different from those corrupt democratic governments, just more evil and merciless.
"I-I'm sorry," he apologised, not looking the least bit guilty. I would've grunted if I could.
Apologising without meaning it is as good as baking a cake without an oven.
Completely useless.
"Although, why was there a small wire popping out on the back of your neck?" He asked, obviously trying to change the topic.
Must've been a malfunctioning wire. Happens rarely. The last time it came out, the doctor or the person who treats me when I...malfunction, took a day to fix it.
"There was?" I asked, trying to feel the back of my neck.
"Don't worry, I broke it," he said with a smile.
Oh. I guess that's what must've caused whatever is happening to me. I knew this idiot had done something. As much as I want to be free, I'm scared of these people. I've seen what they can do, and they won't hesitate to do the same to me.
They've got the power, and I got nothing.
"Are you a robot?" He asked.
"No," I muttered. I am very much human, at present at least, if you ignore the wires and microchips embedded in me.
I guess that makes me a cyborg.
Damn, I had only seen those in movies. Can't believe I am one.
"Why didn't you escape?" I asked, my voice still hoarse as I let go of his collar.
"I thought that this prison had that usual lock which required a key to open. In which case, I could've picked the lock while you were taking a nap. Apparently, I was wrong," he answered, glaring at the electronic lock beside the prison. I nodded, satisfied.
That's why they had told me to beware. He's a nerd, and nerds are good at escaping prisons. I say that from experience.
A few moments of silence.
"Why weren't you talking to me earlier?" He asked.
'Cause he was talking bullshit. And because as a cyborg, that's what I think I've become, they controlled me. Like a computer. You enter the codes and get the results.
"Long story," I replied, getting used to old myself.
"Well, I'm here all night, baby," he shrugged.
Dare he calls me that again.
"Yeah, well I'm not," I snapped. "They'll kill me if they found out."
"Found what?"
"That the program isn't working," I muttered with a groan.
Another wave of pain washed over me which caused me to wince.
"Just-just sleep for a while. Okay?" He suggested.
"No, no..." I muttered.
"You don't look too good."
What's wrong with him? I always look too good.
Wait...why am I worried about them killing me because the program isn't working? I can do what I want. I can escape if I want. Rather, I can blame him for all this. He deserves death for doing this to me. He broke that wire.
He's the reason for my pain of freedom.
"Look, I think you're a bad guy, aren't you?" Walter said with a deep breath.
"What's your definition of 'bad'?"
"Like you are with them. With Python."
"I...honestly don't know."
Was I with them? Against them? Now that I can do as per my wish, for a while at least, was I really with them? Going against them could be fatal, or worse, torturous. Going with them on the other hand is just plain wrong.
"Okay...weird. But sleep, please. You-you'll feel better," he said.
He was right. I did need it. But...what if they caught me sleeping? I can't let that happen. If that happens...well, goodbye me.
"No, they'll catch me," I murmured.
"I'll wake you up before they come," he assured me.
"Besides, I've got some planning to do. Alone," he muttered, his voice almost inaudible.
I know I shouldn't trust him. Heck, he even attempted to kill me, unintentionally, I guess. But right now, I could not even stand up. Sleep was a necessity to me right now.
I had no choice but to trust him.
Let's see how that worked out.
Let me clarify some things here -
Yes, she was made into a cyborg by Python.
Yes, she couldn't do any actions by her will, rather controlled by Python.
Yes, by the end of the chapter, she's not controlled by Python, thanks to Walter breaking a wire sticking out,
Yes, now she can speak and do actions by her will.
I sense a lot of plot holes in this chapters. I dunno why.