Page 36 of Echoes From Within
That’s a bed to sleep on. Three meals a day. Yard time. Not to mention, the possibility of leaving.
How fucked up is that?
I spent over a year in a damp cell with next to no light. A cot to sleep on and a thin sheet to cover up with. Don’t even get me started on all of theteststhe doctor put me and the other prisoners through.
There’s no way in hell I’m going to allow this sadistic fuck to spend his life in a prison that will make sure he’s well-fed and taken care of.
Hell. No.
I want him to feel what I went through. I want him to experience the humiliation of being probed with the excuse of making sure everything was in working order.
The memory of the last year slams through my mind and I dig my nails into the palms of my hands to try and pull myself out.
I want to feel again so badly. But I don’t want to relive that year. I’d rather spend the rest of my life numb.
“I’ll be home shortly, honey,” I hear him say. The sound of his voice causes fear to overpower my every thought. But I somehow managed to lock that fear back up.
Again.
I wait until the doctor flops into his car and pulls out of the parking lot. I’m small enough to comfortably sit on the floor behind his seat. In the cover of darkness, he has no idea I’m back here.
“Do you want me to stop somewhere and grab some food so you don’t have to cook?”
The doctor’s family pops into my head. His wife and his two young children.
But then, I open that door. The one I just closed, and I let every single memory of what I went through flow through my veins.
Regardless of whether he was being forced to do what he did or not, the fact of the matter is, he did it. Not just to me, but to other people. To freaking children.
All in the name of protecting his family.
Well, if him being alive is what’s putting them in danger to begin with, I don’t mind lending a helping hand at keeping them safe.
“Pizza it is,” he laughs.
He laughs. He fucking laughs.
When was the last time I laughed? When was the last time I had a real smile?
I don’t know how to do either of those anymore. The doctor and his buddies made sure of that.
I wait until he hangs up the phone and pulls out onto the highway. Harborbrook is quite a large town and I know Harborbrook Hospital is thirty minutes from the good old doctor’s house.
“Miss me?” I say softly.
The car swerves on the highway but the doctor manages to get control.
“Who…who are you?” he asks, fear evident in his voice.
“Don’t remember me?” I say, shoving the tip of my gun at the base of his skull. “I’m hurt.”
“Seven?” he asks, his pitch raising. “What are you doing here? I thought you were free?”
“Free?” I shout. “Don’t stop driving. I’ll never be free from what you all did to me. Part of me died down in that cell and the only piece I had left was ripped right out of my womb by your hands and handed off to someone else. I’m still trapped down there, doctor.”
“What do you want from me?” he asks, slowly moving his hand toward the consol.”
“Put your hands back up where I can see them,” I demand, shoving the gun harder against his head. “You are going to drive until I tell you to turn. You are not going to try anything funny or I will shoot you where you sit.”