I woke to the touch of Papa's hand on my shoulder. Blinking my eyes open, I rolled over. He was perched uncomfortably on my bed, so tight in this cramped space. I gulped. Him waking me up was uncommon, so I knew this had to be bad.
"The Sensory Deprivation tank is ready. Okay?" He said.
Fearing the worst was correct, then. It was time for The Bath.
I slipped the beige-colored vest over my bare body. My bones showed more than your typical twelve year old. I shivered. When I finished adjusting the padding, I was escorted up the stairs, placed in between some men. They lowered a metal contraption from the ceiling, suspending it above the open tank. I gingerly placed my feet onto the middle bar, and gripped the poles on either side. Then, as I was lowered into the salt-filled water, a helmet was slipped over my head.
I was submerged.
When I reached the bottom of the large tank, I stepped off of the metal ledge. My feet graced the cold bottom, and the warm water felt nice yet strange against my bare arms.
I slowly stepped forwards, and the face looking in at me was one I'd known to be careful of. He was falsely kind, yet I always ran back into his comforting arms. Papa.
My hands were pressed against the thick glass that penetrated me from the outside world, and I mentally willed Papa not to go through with this. My brain betrayed me, and I saw out of the corner of my eye the closing metal.
My flat hands curled into fists, and I beat the glass over and over again. I screamed, and screamed, but my obvious distress had no effect on Papa. As the metal surroundings closed me in, I caught one last look at Papa's face.
He was smiling.