Reparative Pal Program Eight

After some amount of time had passed, the lights slowly dim back on. Making me wince when they fully turn on. They were much too bright for my tastes. I would say for this time of morning but I’m not even sure what time it is. All I do know is that I barely slept much the night before. Sleep has become a luxury that a lot of us in the Woodrow Clinic can afford. In the past six months I can only get a few good hours of sleep. Other times I can’t fall asleep no matter what I do. Closing my eyes as I try to coax myself into unconsciousness. Failing spectacularly despite my hard efforts to get myself asleep.

Last night was sort of a terrible mixture of both.

Though I am not certain if I really slept or not. As my mind was a bit too hazy to properly dwell on any of it. My head still feels kind of fuzzy and not quite right if I’m being honest. It’s so bad that I can’t even remember any of my dreams. There was this odd gap in my memory that really evades my grasp. Like a lot of nights these past few months. So far, I’ve been starting to wonder if I even dream anymore or not. The possibility of being too stressed to be able to do so cropped up. But I’m not sure if that was true or not. My night was far too difficult for me to be able to recall. Vague memories of looking at the white walls popped up. Along with being on my back on this stupid foam chunk on the floor. I fear that my back will be injured beyond repair if I must keep laying on this stupid thing for longer.

At any rate I’m sure that a certain orderly will be showing up soon. To give me another hospital gown and lead me into another work-out session. One that’ll be low stress for my joints but still not be all that easy for me. As this place only takes the doctors they have on staff somewhat seriously. And I do mean medical doctors instead of…whatever those other ones are really. At any rate today was going to be more the same. Pain and misery. With a sigh, I yawn a little bit as I tried to properly gather my thoughts. Waiting for Eric to come into the room with another hospital gown like he did yesterday. Something that I was really starting to get annoyed with as I wondered why I have only been getting those. When was I going to be getting real clothes? Though I know that I would be wearing ‘normal’ male clothes. Clothes that I was grateful to not have been forced into when I was younger. They were super uncomfortable in my opinion. And I didn’t like the way that they looked either. Well, the ones that the ‘male patients’ are forced to wear around here that aren’t orderlies look that way to me.

It's like this place doesn’t want us to look nice or be comfortable. Which doesn’t make much sense. Can’t male patients be both nice looking and comfortable? Why do we have to wear stuff that looks like it’s made from burlap? Probably it feels like it too. Just why can’t we have comfy and good-looking clothes? My best guess is that it might be a punishment for not being the way they believe that we should be. The good little ‘men’ and ‘women’ that should have been pushing out children like we’re ‘meant to’. At least that’s what I heard from some of the orderlies while I was working to get thinner. They probably thought that I wasn’t really paying any attention to them or listening to them at all. But I heard all their stupid words about us ‘Wrong Ones’. It made me want to throw the weights at their heads. Or strangle one of those terrible fuckers with a jump rope until they passed out or died.

Those thoughts would worry me for a while. Truth be told they still worry me as I laid on the foam mat. My teeth dug into my bottom lip as I thought of how angry I was at these terrible fuckers. And how much I wanted to cause any of them bodily harm. Even if I was justified in harming a lot of these assholes, it wouldn’t be wise. Not because of the whole ‘Oh that would make me just as bad as them’ thing. But the fact is that I probably could get hurt if I’m not careful. Like I’m certain that if do anything even remotely aggressive…I’ll get punished worse. Even if it’s something as simple as telling someone to go screw themselves. Saying the word ‘fuck’ probably wouldn’t be necessary in a place like this. Just the hint of the word would probably be enough to piss someone off and make them hurt me.

Being punished was something that I was completely worried about. There were so many that I had heard about. From what I could tell you that you could be punished for whatever they could think of for any reason. None of these reasons made any form of sense to me. Then again, the actions of bigots never really have. Something that I really wished that I had tried to do. If I had really been paying any form of attention, I could have seen the behaviors in my ex. Properly seen the red flags that she was proudly displaying instead of ignoring them like I had been in the past. Hell, I might have even properly broken up with her instead of staying. Then I might not have been put into this Hell hole. Maybe. Who really knows where I might have been if I had broken up with my ex-girlfriend or not. I might not have survived that long. Maybe I would have been put into the program at the start.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. Fear squeezed my heart as I knew it was going to be Eric. Coming with a hospital gown and to put me in the wheelchair near the foam mat. Slowly sitting up on the foam mat to look at the door as I waited for him to come in. It was only a few minutes before the door to the room was opened. There was Eric with a bundle of clothing tucked under his armpit as he smiled at me. Walking up to me and giving me a better look at the clothes. They weren’t the same color as the hospital gown that I had been wearing a while ago. They were this odd light blue color that I found slightly nice. Though I wasn’t too sure why I was getting these kinds of clothes now. After being here for the past six months I finally got real clothes. All in all, it was good to be wearing something that wasn’t just a hideous hospital gown. Though I kind of think wearing a stupid flour sack would be better than whatever Eric has brought me. They were hideous even if they were a nice shade of blue. Either way I wasn’t going to fight as he knelt beside me. Keeping my calm as he started to get me out of my pajamas. Closing my eyes the entire time he started getting me undressed and redressed in those hideous light blue clothes.

They didn’t feel all that great on my skin and I hated it.

Soon as I opened my eyes, I stared down at the clothes that I was wearing. They reminded me of something out of Star Trek. But it is a lot less comfortable. The fact that the color looks somewhat good on me makes me a little happy. Though I’m not sure why it makes me happy even if it is just a little bit so. But the style of the clothes was very…I don’t know why I’m so damn focused on the look of this uniform. It’s strange and I know that it’s stupid to be so focused on that. This was something that I focused on instead of everything else in the Woodrow Clinic, this was it. Everything about this horrible place and this is what I’m so focused on. This was another thing that made me pause for a slight second.

Why did my brain focus on any of these silly stuff for?

Quite possibly it was just my brain trying to distract me from the fact someone else undressed and redressed me? It kind of feels like that. A way to keep me from overthinking or really dwelling on the way that Eric did that. Sure, it was professional, but it still made me super uncomfortable when he had done it. Luckily, he hadn’t made any comments about my body. Or rather I hadn’t heard anything from him if he had made one. There was a possibility that he hadn’t said anything during the few minutes it took him to help me redress. As Eric hadn’t done anything, that was even remotely unprofessional. Well, in that sense. Aside from petting my hair like I was some kind of beloved pet for him. That was the least terrible thing that has been done for me for the better part of the months I’ve been here. Being petted was still humiliating and dehumanizing don’t get me wrong. I didn’t like it the slightest bit.

But it could be so much worse compared to others around here.

At any rate I must focus on getting out of here instead of focusing on these clothes. Escaping was the thing I needed to keep my mind on. Right now, it might take me a month or so to leave. Since my body was still too weak for me to properly walk right now. It might take a long while for me to properly walk out of here. Let alone run out of here. With how I am right now, I would be far too easy for one of these assholes to catch up with. And the idea of being punished was enough for me to not try anything just yet. While Eric picked me up, I knew it was better to be placid than to try to do anything stupid. Taking a few deep breaths as Eric settled me into the wheelchair with a sickly-sweet smile on his face. Patting my head gently as we leave my room. It made me feel disgusted, but I did my best not to show it on my face. I’m also uninterested in being punished if I possibly show any ‘rude’ emotions.

Probably severely.

In what way? I am not too certain what way they would be punishing me. And I really would rather not find out anytime soon. Eric wheeled me down the hall towards the cafeteria. Gently humming some creepy tune that I didn’t recognize as he walked me to the line. Something that no one has done since I’ve been in the wheelchair. Getting me a tray and having me hold it as we went down the line to get me food. Which was just as bland, tasteless, and disappointing as dinner. As well as lunch. All I was given to eat was a tiny bowl of oatmeal. Plain and unsweetened. Which was one of the most disgusting things in the world for me. And a cup of lukewarm coffee. Black coffee. Nothing to sweeten the mug of tepid coffee. Not even a little creamer to change the taste of it. So, it’s super disgusting in my book. I preferred gingerbread coffee with peppermint mocha creamer. It was one of my favorite kind of seasonal drinks. Even though it sounded gross to a lot of people that I talk about it. I loved it.

Now I probably won’t drink it again…no. I wouldn’t allow myself to have this defeatist attitude about anything I love again. Being negative wouldn’t get me out of here and I was going to. Going to get the Hell out of this place. First, I want to see if Gabriel wants to escape with me or not. I’m hoping so. Looking down at my food, I kept my best to not frown or anything else as Eric wheeled me away from my normal spot. Taking me straight to a table that would only fit two people with trays. It was also super far away from everyone else as well. In fact, it was right next to the wall, and I started to feel trapped. This wasn’t good. This was not good as I don’t remember them ever doing this to anyone else around here. If I had seen it happen it was a good long while ago. And no matter how hard I try to recall anything about this, I couldn’t. My heart pounded against my ribs as I poked at my plain oatmeal for a few minutes. Starting to get nervous as I glanced around the room in fear of what would happen next. Feeling anxiety creep into my thoughts as I tried to keep my breathing even. This was bad. I know that it doesn’t need to be said but this was very bad. So very, very bad.

Just why in the world were they putting me essentially in the corner like this? It doesn’t make any sense to me. Do they somehow know that I’m starting to make plans to escape? Had someone thought my walking around my room last night to be suspicious? Maybe. But I don’t think they would bother to give me food if that were the case. The Woodrow Clinic doesn’t seem like the type to waste food for something like that. As strange as that seems. Besides, mind readers don’t exist. And I highly doubt that any of them can figure out what I was planning from just slowly walking around a tiny room. At least not this soon. After all I have been on my best behavior outside of my room. Been listening and not really accepting the things they’ve been trying to drill into my head since day one. So, if it wasn’t about me possibly escaping this place then what would it be? Just what was any of this about?

Putting me in the corner of a room by myself like this? There’s so much wrong with this and I’m not entirely sure why it’s happening. Do they need something from me? I mean that would make sense as to why I’m alone here. That way one of the orderlies could talk to me about what I could do for them. It could be anything. But I’m sort of hopeful that I could be asked to mentor one of the other patients here. Like Gabriel. It could give me a chance to finally tell him who I really am. Find a way to propose how we can both get out of the Woodrow Clinic together and go wherever the Hell that we wanted. That’s if they wanted me to do this. Doing my best to keep myself calm I started to eat the tasteless oatmeal. Glancing around the room once more to see if there was an administrator or someone coming towards me. My heart started to pound even harder and harder as Eric was approaching me. Smiling widely like he was coming towards a best friend instead of a frightened prisoner.

In his hands was a tray of food. Better food from the way that it smelled. It made my mouth water as he set it down on the table. Sitting straight in front of me with the best breakfast I have seen in such a long time. It sort of made me angry as I stared at the food he had. Orderlies apparently didn’t just get the best stuff. But they got better portions than any of us prisoners here. Five pancakes that had butter and were covered in syrup. Four slices of bacon and a huge heaping pile of scrambled eggs with cheese on it. This stuff smelled so wonderful, and I wished that I could steal at least one of those crispy bacon strips. There was also some cold orange juice in a paper cup. Along with a nice cup of what looked like hot coffee. It seemed to have creamer and sugar in it as well. All of this smelled so amazing, and it made me envious. I am very envious as I finished up the small bowl of bland oatmeal. That tasted almost like nothing at all. Feeling more unsatisfied when I could see better food right in front of me. Especially with the amount of bacon that was on the plate next to scrambled eggs. But I did my best to keep my jealousy from my face as I started to drink my lukewarm coffee.

Which was more like drinking dirty water if anything.

“Good morning, Jonah.”,Eric chirps. Yes, he chirped this at me like this was a happy moment in our life. Not a crappy morning where I had not enough food to eat with bad coffee to wash it down. While he had a huge breakfast and could eat like a king. It thoroughly annoyed me while his voice almost made me wince. Resisting the urge to do that along with not rolling my eyes at his behavior, I smiled at him. I’m doing my best to make it look good instead of nervous. Setting my empty cup of faux coffee, I looked him in the eye. Or rather at the space between his eyebrows as I hate looking people in the eyes. In a low voice, I stated,”Good morning, Eric. I hope you slept well.”

“I did. Thank you. Now, do you know why you’re being seated by yourself today, Jonah?”,Eric questions me. The tone of his voice was gentle, but it still sent a shiver down my spine. I wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but it wasn’t good. And I was a little surprised that he was immediately asking me about this right now. I was still somewhat hopeful about the tutoring program that my mind cooked up. After all, I was doing so well in the Clinic. Maybe I would be good enough to tutor other prisoners here? At least that was what I was hoping for as I shook my head. Continuing to stare between his eyebrows. It wasn’t hard to believe that it couldn’t be that. But I was still hopeful as I sat there. Taking a few deep breaths as I shook my head to show that I had no idea why I was seated so far away. Quietly, I answered,”No, Eric. I’m not entirely sure why I was put so far away from everyone else.”

“Do you mind telling me why?”,I asked. Keeping my tone as polite and respectful as I could possibly do. It was difficult to keep myself calm while we sat there. Him slowly eating his food. So much so that I couldn’t help but think that he was doing it to antagonize me. As the pace that he was eating his food was a little too slow for normal eating. Though there was the possibility that he could be eating at his normal pace. It was a very small possibility, and I highly doubted it was natural in the slightest bit. Either way I kept my fake smile on my face while I waited for his response. Despising how long it took him to chew his food while he smiled a bit wider. He answered,”Well, today you’ll be participating in one of our newest therapy activities.”

This made my stomach twist a little bit as I wondered what it was. Or why the Hell was I going to be subjected to it. Along with how many people were going to be a part of this. It really set off alarm bells in my mind while I watched him nibble on one of his bacon strips. One that looked so delicious that I had to restrain myself from snatching it from him. Since I doubt it would result in anything good for me. And I did my best not to scream at him and demand to know what this newest activity was as well. Getting upset would probably end up with me being…well. I think anyone could guess what could happen to me.

“And after I’m done eating breakfast, we’re going to be starting your cuddle therapy.”,Eric explained. Cuddle therapy? This was something that I hadn’t heard of before. And I wasn’t aware that it was something this place would even try. It doesn’t sound too bad. Well, it would sound a lot better if it wasn’t for the fact that the Woodrow Clinic was encouraging it. That was one of the reasons why my blood felt cold as ice in my veins. Along with the fact that Eric was going to have a role in this whole therapy activity. It made me wish that I had my phone or computer access to look it up. That way I could figure out if Eric being involved if it was terrible or not. Something in me told me that was why he seemed so happy. Which slowly dawned on me that he was going to have some direct role in this whole activity. My stomach twisted into a damn knot while I tried to keep the smile on my face. Not wanting him to know that this creeped me the Hell out. Taking a deep breath to steady myself as I set my hands in my lap. Grasping them tightly together while I tried to pick my words as wisely as I could to not upset him. Gently, I asked,”Umm. What exactly is ‘Cuddle Therapy’, Eric? Can you tell me?”

“Oh, you’ll see what it is when I’m done with my breakfast, Jonah.”,he playfully scolded me. Like he was talking to a pet that did something naughty instead of a fellow human being. Which made my stomach do backflips while I grasped my hands together tighter. Feeling uncomfortable as he reached over and patted my shoulder so very gently. One that was super condescending in the way he touched me. I wanted to slap him hard across the face as I tried not to look like I was as angry as I felt. Though I had this odd inkling that Eric might know that I was upset. Maybe because I might not be as good at hiding my anger as I thought I was. Though thankfully he doesn’t call me out on what my expression looks like. Instead, he just keeps that smug look on his face as he pulls his hand away from me. In a super annoying tone, he teased,”Just behave yourself and try to be more patient than you feel. I promise that you’re going to love the activity. I just know it.”

And this set off more alarm bells in my mind. Over the past few months while doing any activity and such I have learned a lot. Like the fact that they expect me to have an infinite amount of patience for folks being annoying. And even though I have worked retail way before all of this had happened, I couldn’t stand it that easily. That you never realize how much you really need to stretch before working out. Right when you don’t do it enough and get hurt doing the dumb exercises, they tell you to. That and if they promise you that you’re going to like whatever the Hell they’re about to put you through. You weren’t going to like it at all. It wasn’t going to be enjoyable or even remotely tolerable either. Just barely but not by much. Though I did my best to not allow this to show on my face as I sat there. Fearful of what Eric was going to do if he saw me a bit fearful. Something in me told me that he would be perfectly happy with me being afraid of him. Hell, I’m starting to think that he would prefer me to be afraid of him.

He also probably wants everyone else to be afraid of him as well.

So, all I did was wait for him to finish eating that wonderfully smelling breakfast. Something that I wish that I could even have a tiny sliver of as I tried to not look down on it. Knowing that he would be using it to bully me with. But I did my best to ignore the urge to stare down at that plate of wonderful food. And I was so grateful that my stomach wasn’t loudly rumbling while I waited for him to finish eating. My mind racing with what could be happening to me with him. There were quite a few terrible images in my mind as I sat there. Along with a ton of horrific scenarios that almost make me vomit. None of the scenarios are good, obviously, and this really scared me. After about twenty minutes or so he finally finished eating his stupid food and chugs his drinks. First his orange juice and then his coffee. The look on his face when he finally finished drinking almost made me laugh as it was clearly bad together. This sort of satisfies me to know that he was disgusted by something like that. Soon his face goes back to that creepy condescending smile that he always seems to be wearing. Standing up while picking up both of our trays. Walking over to the trash can to dump both of our trays.

While I sat there watching him take both the trays. Others that were deep into the program seemed to give him some space. From what I could tell they were still not all that comfortable with the orderly. Even though they were a lot more brainwashed than I am ever going to be. They seemed to not trust him in the slightest bit. Which made my heart sink down into the floor as I wondered what he had done to them. That even in this state they would rather not allow him within a few feet of them as he walked past. Eric gave them a small nod before coming back to our table. Unlocking my wheelchair before wheeling me down a hallway that I hadn’t been before. It sort of makes me uncomfortable. And I found myself wishing that I could move under my own power. That way I could at least try to get away from Eric.

Okay, I know that I full well couldn’t escape him all that easily. Nor do I believe that I could really get all that far if I had tried. But I still wanted to try and get away from him and try to make a break for freedom. God, I still wish that I could at least try a little bit. If there was even the smallest amount of chance of me to escape. This helpless feeling in my gut was somewhat making me angry while Eric wheeled us down the hallway. It was with everything and everyone at the Woodrow Clinic. Mostly with myself for being so damn weak and pathetic in this wheelchair. I know that it isn’t my fault for being so weak. But it still makes me wish that I could move faster than how I was moving right now. That way I wouldn’t be wheeled down a hallway that I hadn’t seen before. Despite how many months I have been walking around. I would think that I might have been able to remember this hallway at all.

Yet, I didn’t.

This worried me as we walked down it. There were so many rooms that I didn’t bother counting while we walked. It was like normal therapy exercises/activity rooms that I couldn’t be bothered with. Which slowly made me wonder what was going on in the other rooms. What kind of prisoners were being ‘treated’ in them as well. Dismissing those thoughts, I tried to pay more attention to my surroundings now. Trying to make sure that I could figure out if this was a good route to try and escape out of. Out of the most desperate optimism I really hoped that it could possibly be a way to leave. That way I could retrace my steps so that I can leave with Gabriel…I wish I knew where he was right now. As I hadn’t noticed him among the crowd of people that were in the cafeteria. And I’m pretty sure that I could spot him easily. As so far, we are the only two trans people that are in wheelchairs.

I’m sure that there will be more people. It might be a few months before we see them, and I hoped we didn’t have to. I would rather not be brainwashed into being what these people want me to be. What I fear I was going to be in a short amount of time. Toying with my nails, I glanced around the hallways. Doing my best to commit this to memory while I felt my hopes of escaping the place were dashed. Eric wheels me to a room that had no windows like the room that I was constantly held inside each night. It made me feel sick when I saw that all there was in there was a giant king-sized bed with soft bedding. Which was completely white like the walls of this large room. It felt like we were inside a strange white cave. Except it was so much warmer than most caves I had ever been in before. It wasn’t stiflingly hot. Just enough so that I realized that the other rooms in the Woodrow Clinic had been very cold. So much so that I’m kind of surprised that I hadn’t realized this a whole lot sooner. I also had some doubts about this being a legit therapy activity. Well, the Woodrow Clinic version was a therapy activity.

My doubts were confirmed when I realized there wasn’t any other professional in this room. None of the other staff members were there. Feeling a little terrified, while Eric wheeled me over to the large bed and locked the wheelchair up. Carefully getting me out of the wheelchair and laying me onto the surprisingly plush bed. I immediately sank into it as I felt my eyelids slowly shut as a sigh of contentment. The simple act of laying down on a bed had made me realize how much I missed a real bed. One that had real blankets and sheets. Along with pillows that weren’t so small that they didn’t do anything at all to cushion my head.

It felt so much more heavenly than I thought it would be.

“Aww. Has a certain someone missed sleeping in a big comfy bed?”,Eric questioned. There was this gross tone to his voice that made me want to roll my eyes. As well as kick him in the balls until he fell to his knees. Possibly throw up. I tried to push those terrible thoughts out of my head as I laid there. Just enjoying how my body was slowly but surely felt less sore while I lay there. Grinning a little bit as I nuzzled the pillow. Ignoring the pleased smile on his face as he giggled at me. Petting me a few times like most people used to pet their animals. It felt creepier than when he petted my head. His hand stroked my sides and shoulder for a few seconds. This made me hate the asshole even more than I had before. And I hadn’t even thought it was possible in the slightest bit. Shoving those feelings down, I tried to pretend that the asshole wasn’t creeping me out. Doing my best to not allow my feelings to show on my face. Or to allow Eric to ruin my new good mood about finally being able to rest on a real bed. Instead, I was just going to enjoy the sensation of lying on a huge soft bed. Nuzzling my face against the fuzzy blankets with a huge smile on my face. Grateful for the chance to relax on it as I thought about my old bed. This bed and that bed were somewhat like each other.

My bed sheets were a whole lot prettier than this. A lovely mint green color that I adored the most when I was free. This room was different…way too different. So was everything else in my old room but I won’t linger on that. It would just make me sad.

As I lay there, Eric walks around the bed and out of my line of sight. As I didn’t try to bother to watch him while I relaxed. Realizing that I was too tired despite how many hours that I had slept the previous night. Okay, I still have no idea how many hours it really was. But I didn’t think that I was going to still be tired like this. Maybe I hadn’t gotten anywhere near enough sleep as I thought that I had done. And a small part of me wished that I could just take a nap. Instead of this ‘cuddle therapy’ that Eric wants us to do. I’m not even sure if I understand how this therapy was helpful in the slightest bit. And I miss my phone so badly right now. That way I could find out what the Hell it really was without him being here. I feel the bed dip under his weight while I try not to move away. Since I’m sure it wouldn’t get me anywhere but punished. Doing my best to not tense up as he curled up against me. Pulling me tight to his chest as he gave a content sigh. Pressing himself tight up against my back and kissing the back of my head as he did so. It made me feel sick as I tried to not react in the slightest bit. Resisting the urge to slam my head into his nose a few dozen times until it breaks and bleeds. Maybe if I was lucky enough it would go straight back into his skull. My imaginings made my stomach churn. And I started to wish that I didn’t have such a vivid imagination while we lay there. I didn’t linger on the feelings as I thought of how to break the uncomfortable and smothering silence. In a low voice, I asked,”Umm, Eric? Just how exactly is this exercise therapeutic in the slightest?”

“Well, from what I was told this will teach you how to handle other's needs.”,Eric explained. Though that didn’t sound right. This kind of therapy didn’t seem like it was supposed to be like that. I’m pretty sure it was to help others with other things. If I had my phone, I could look that up. If I had that stupid old computer that’s in the lobby, I could look it up there. That way I could find out if it was what he said or not. As it doesn’t sound truthful and I’m not feeling comfortable in the slightest bit about it. But I did my best not to tense up in his arms as I nuzzled the blankets once more. Using it to distract myself from everything that was going on right now. It made me miss my own blankets and real bed. And it made me feel mournful that I was going back to that terrible foam mat on the floor later tonight. Being on a large bed made me realize just how much I miss being treated like a human being. Eric continued,”This is going to be something that you’ll have to do to properly comfort your future owner. They’ll be wanting you to snuggle them just as much as I like to snuggle you.”

“That way you’re more properly accustomed to this sort of treatment. And that way you’ll graduate from the program faster,”,he assured. A fact that I cannot trust or even begin to believe. Nor did I want to believe in the slightest bit. As I doubt cuddling could make anyone become the perfect ‘Philia Pet’ that someone would want. How can cuddles make anyone want to be a pet? I also doubt that they could be all that healing either. Since I don’t understand what the Hell cuddling could be healing. Again, something that I wished I had my phone for. Researching it on Google would be the best if I had my phone. Chewing on my bottom lip, I just tried not to speak or think of anything at all as we lay there. Wishing that this whole awkward situation wasn’t happening and that I could just go back to my room.

Or go to ‘group therapy’ and see Gabriel. I found myself wishing that I could see him again. Since I was still concerned about his safety from the other day. Nuzzling the back of my head again, Eric stated,”I know this is counting my chickens before I hatch but, I think you’re really close to finishing the program early.”

This made me feel ice cold despite his body heat and the warm bedding. And was really leaving me confused about what he said. It couldn’t be true. Eric was lying to me about how I was progressing through the program. Since I am pretty sure that I’m not acting like those other people in the program. They talk about the program and the administration staff like they’re the best things in the world. Yet, I hate them more than anyone else. Though I kind of hope that some of them were acting like they were assimilated. I had a feeling that they weren’t. And I had a feeling that this was some kind of ploy to mess with my head or something. That way I would be way easier for him to manipulate into what he wants. I continue to not say a word as Eric wraps his arms tight around my waist. Like I was some teddy bear instead of a real human being. It makes me feel slightly sick when he nuzzles the back of my neck. It takes a ton of effort to not shudder at his touch. In a calm voice, he explains,”Soon as you’re back to your normal and strong self. And Alya reads your journal at the end of the week.”

“They will realize what a good little lamb you are and get you put up for adoption. I’m sure so many people will put in a ton of applications.”,Eric cooes. It was an attempt at a compliment. And I could practically feel his smile as he lay there behind me. My blood turned ice cold as I stared at the blank wall in discomfort. The fact he was so sure made me feel disgusted. The way that he sounds so assured of his thought. It really sickened me as we ‘cuddled’ and deepened my desire to break out of here. But not before I slit his throat.