Reparative Pal Program Seven

Soon as ‘dinner’ was over, I was wheeled back to the room I had been forced into. It was somewhat around the same size as my old college dorm room. But with a lot more white walls and way less furniture than that. Something that I find somewhat impressive considering that I was working so hard. And still made barely enough to make enough money to get what I got. Thank goodness that Facebook exists. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have some of the things that I had. Either way the room is just so exhausting to be in. No matter what way I try to be optimistic about this whole thing I just can’t. As this whole place makes staying out of my mind a whole lot more difficult. Trying to keep myself out of my own mind has been difficult these past six months. Something that I’m guessing is the point around here. To keep us from being able to not stop thinking or feeling so damn isolated from others.

I’m not too sure if that’s what it is or not.

As I’m not too sure what this kind of thing does us to psychologically. Since I’ve never had an urge to look this up before. Though I’m certain that overthinking isn’t going to harm someone in the slightest bit. But I’m sort of sure that someone thinking too much isn’t a good sign. At least in this sort of situation. Though I had tried my best to not think as much as I do. It’s inevitable that it happens no matter what. Despite my various efforts to keep myself from overthinking all the possibilities that can happen. My mind can’t let things go as I sat in the stupid wheelchair in the middle of the room. Going over the past few years with the overly tanned tyrant in charge. Like the reasons that things are the way that they are. Like the reasons that we’re pets for our fellow Americans. How all the pets that we loved so much had died off the first few years into his presidency. Thanks to him getting rid of regulations for pet food and other such foods within a year of being back in power. So, thanks to the fact that there weren’t proper inspections, or any standards set, lots of animals died.

Either from rotten food or from diseases that came from the food.

At least as far as my memory recalls that had happened. There had been so much that happened during those first few years that I can’t recall properly. I think there had been a time that his supporters also were stealing pets. Possibly taking them like PETA had when they were an actual organization and not considered a terrorist group. Though I can understand those assholes being seen as terrorists. It comes off as somewhat strange since the Supporters were doing some of the things that PETA did. Nearly making me want to laugh while I sat in my wheelchair as I stared at the wall. But I did my best not to do that. Considering the number of cameras in the room that are currently watching me. It will be something that I’m going to have to do later when I’m not as heavily monitored. Whenever I can get the chance to get the Hell out of here. I’m going to get out of the Woodrow Clinic.

Instead of being able to think of my escape, my mind wandered to animals. How much I missed having animals around. Like mice and other small animals like them.

Cats and dogs among them. The way that they moved, looked, and sounded. I miss the noises that each animal made. I completely forgotten what they sounded like as well. I know a meow, but I can’t remember what it sounds like. Or a bark either. It vaguely comes to mind, but I can’t really recall it to the best of my ability. And I wish that I could use the internet to draw up videos on YouTube to see them. But unfortunately, the internet no longer has videos of any animals anymore. At least not for free. Since the whole overly tanned tyrant came into power the price for it has gone up in America. I can’t even find out if it is in other countries. As not only is it not affordable it is extremely limited to the public. Only people with a ton of money can get full somewhat unmonitored usage. Either way it is too much for me to be able to have afforded it on my limited salary. Neither could my ex-girlfriend. Though I’ll be lying if I said that I missed the internet in the slightest bit. In fact, I kind of felt free without the whole damn thing. It was sort of weird for the first few years.

There was something so oddly freeing about not having it in the slightest bit. I kind of had this strange sense of relief. But I’m going to guess that it was freedom from being monitored in that form. I’m not sure. There are a few things that I’ve been monitored through still. But this was the least direct one when I wasn’t in the Woodrow Clinic. As I still had my phone and other such things to use. Though there is something that I missed from when I had the thing. The few friends that I had on the internet. Such as a community and group that I had on Facebook and Tumblr. Tumblr was something that I somewhat missed the most. It was the best place that I had found other trans women and men. Along with nonbinary folks. Everyone sending goofy memes to each other and now, I don’t know where they are. Or if they are okay at all. I really missed the connection that we all shared.

That sense of community that we had together.

Now that it’s gone, I’ll probably never see any of them again. As I think a lot of them didn’t live in the USA. Lucky them. Getting to live with one of them would have been a dream. But thanks to the overly tanned tyrant, leaving the US is damned near impossible. Thanks to his ideas that we must jump through hoops to go to places he approves of. For at least three years into his presidency that was that. Then it slowly became us never being able to leave. Even if we have the proper paperwork to do so. After making people who were born here unable to leave, he deported most folks who lived here for years out. Along with their children. Even if the children themselves were born within the US they were deported. It was something that terrified any rational minded person. The Supporters saw it as something good and Godly. Either way, it was a sign that things were only going to get worse for us. And boy howdy have they.

I try to think positively as I take a deep breath then let it out. Keeping calm, I tried to imagine that the community could be waiting for me. Either waiting for me to come to them or for me to be able to contact one of them. Maybe one of them is going to be able to find a way to sneak into the US and…and that is a pipe dream. None of them can do something like that unless we were in an action movie. One that I think Tom Cruise would have been acting in sometime in the past. I want to see them either way. So, I can at least dream that they would be able to pull off some Mission Impossible stuff. Save me and some of the prisoners here at the Woodrow Clinic. Me, some of the other trans and gay folk, and Gabriel. I found myself wondering how he had been doing or if he wanted to escape as well.

Frowning a little, I tried to force myself not to think of Gabriel.

As there is nothing that I can do for him now. Not until I can get my strength back and be my normal self. Or rather something close to my normal self. It won’t do me any real good to think of him or think of us together. After all, I’m not even sure if he wants to be around me like that. And I have things that I need to take care of instead of overthinking him. Calmly, I grasped the handles of the wheelchair as I braced myself. Grateful that the person who pushed me in here had locked the wheels. Otherwise, this would have been awkward and probably ended up with me landing on my face on the floor. Quite possibly unable to get up from how weak my legs have been feeling the past few months. Pushing past this weakness, I managed to get myself to awkwardly get out of the wheelchair. It was a lot more difficult than it’s made to look like in the movies or any T.V shows that I remembered watching. Forcing myself to walk might not be the best idea in the world. But I had this urge to walk for a while now. To make myself get up and walk to at least see if I’m going to be able to do so. And that if I do it sooner then I’ll be able to leave the Woodrow Clinic quicker. I could finally be able to finally free myself. There was this strange idea in my mind that if I didn’t do that, I wouldn’t be much help to myself. To anyone else. And that I was doomed to be a ‘Philia Pet’ sooner if I didn’t. Though moving around has been a hassle these days. For several reasons that are obvious.

This wheelchair that I had been placed in was hard to use as well as hard to get out. It was probably one of the reasons that I was put into it. That way I couldn’t do anything to get away from the orderlies. Or even really think of escaping at all.

There is also the fact that I’ve been very sore from all the intense workouts that they force me to do. Ever since I first arrived. My hips have been hurting the most out of everything on me. At first, I had no real idea why that was happening. Then it slowly dawned on me that it was from the lack of stretching that they didn’t let me do. It was odd that they never value this around here. Among other common-sense things as well. Which I’m not going to get into. Nor will I allow myself to think about it as I start to walk. This probably wasn’t helping me as much as I hoped it was going to. But I had to do something. Sitting around in the room wasn’t really making me feel all that good. I wish that I could see if this was good or not. One of the annoying things about this place is that we’re not allowed computer time. We have very few privileges in this place. It isn’t necessarily the worst thing in the world. But no link to the outside world has made a lot of things difficult for me. Not to mention it makes me wonder if they’re doing it to make us more isolated.

Isolation, dehumanization, and other things make it difficult.

Chewing on my bottom lip I started walking to the wall as carefully as possible. Ignoring the pain that was flaring up from my hips as I slowly pace the small room. Keeping close to the wall as I did so. Feeling it would help me from falling if I did so. I’m sure that things will be fine if I don’t try to walk faster. Not now at least. Later. Later I can start running or trying to. There are four cameras in the room. I’m not too sure if me walking around is going to alert them or anything. But I’m certain that me running around the room will alert them. Which could possibly have them coming to my room and punishing me. Which can be several terrible things in this place. More isolation or possibly being beaten in front of others. I shuddered to think of that happening to me as I walked around the room.

I’m not even sure if they will think of this as a good thing. But one of these people might think it will be. Being more mobile might make me easier for them to find me a ‘good’ home. Though I truly doubt that such a thing exists nowadays. I have seen what has happened to the ‘Philia Pets’ outside of the Woodrow Clinic. How poorly they were treated by the families that owned them. I remembered how they beat them, chained them, and other such things. They were all the reasons that I needed to free myself from this place. There must be an exit around here that I can escape from. We will be finally free of this terrible place. Gabriel and…I shook my head to stop the thought as it comes to me.

Trying to not think of Gabriel, I found the thoughts coming in despite myself. Thinking of him won’t do me any good right now. After all there isn’t anything that I can do for him now. Being so weak and tired as I am. There is no way that I’m going to be able to help anyone in this state. All I must do is build up my strength first. One day I’ll be able to help Gabriel escape this place along with me. Hopefully he’ll be able to build up his strength as much as I am. Since he is in the same position I am right now.

But right now, isn’t going to be the best time.

I must care for my own needs right now. Gathering my strength as carefully as humanly possible. With the staff watching me as closely as they have been for the past six months. Though the way that I have been walking has me a bit concerned. As before all of this I had been able to walk a lot faster than this. It was a terrible sign to me. But one that can be easily understood as I haven’t been allowed to walk in the last few months. I suppose being in a wheelchair was a lot more harmful to me than I thought.

It could be a combination of overworking myself from the workouts and the wheelchair. But that isn’t something that I’ll linger over. Right now, the thing I need to think over is walking around this tiny room. Overthinking the various was that the Woodrow Clinic has messed me up isn’t going to do me any good. I can already tell that it messed up my mind and worse than my body. I can’t explain it, but my mind isn’t…it isn’t entirely in the best place right now. Though that isn’t a surprise as I’m not the way that I looked last year. What with everything that the Woodrow Clinic has forced upon me. Transition forcibly reversed in ways that have been leaving me horrified the few times I looked in a mirror. The drastic difference in just six months is just too stark for me to be able to be able to handle.

It was much too steep for me to understand.

If I had to compare what I look like right now compared to last year, I’d say it’s my father. I look like a more fragile version of my father. As opposed to how I looked like my grandmother when she was younger last year. Something that gave me so much euphoria and happiness that was taken away in a few months. Taken away in such little time that it felt so painful. It made me feel so strange any time that I had seen myself. Each time I can’t connect with the person in front of me. It’s like I’m seeing through the eyes of a stranger. This person in front of me might have been me if my parents hadn’t been so supportive.

So, kind.

It’s the person that I must be for now. That I must be until I can free myself from the Woodrow Clinic at last. And when I do. I will never be this person ever again. In the meantime, I can pretend to stand this. Stand the sight of my new self in a mirror. And how my voice doesn’t sound as right as it should be. No matter how much I miss my hair. The make-up that I would use on days that I felt like having it on. I would endure this terrible slot in life that I have been given. While I made my way to the wheelchair, I panted. Sweat pouring down my back as I slowly moved back towards the chair as best I can. I was out of breath while I managed to get over to the chair. It was another bad sign in my book. It was barely a few minutes or so walk and here I was panting like I had run a whole 50k marathon or something. Hopefully in the future I won’t be so out of breath as I am now. And that I will be moving around a whole lot better than that. Or at least I am hoping that I will be able to handle this within a week. Maybe a month or two at the most. All of this is still so very disheartening to handle.

Being so damn thin and tired like this. It has really stated to make me…well. I think anyone can understand what is going on with me. How painful this is for everyone like me in the Woodrow Clinic. It wasn’t wise to just overthink everything as I got back into the wheelchair to catch my breath. And get my heartrate down.

When both were firmly under my control, I took the notebook out of the bag it had been placed inside. Sighing as I stared at the notebook in my hands while staring at it. Turning it over in my hands for a moment. As the thing was sort of annoying to me. But I ignored my distaste for the stupid journal as I got the pen out. Pulling the cap off as I started to think of what I was going to write for these assholes. It was something that I felt I had to do since there wasn’t much else that I could do right now. After dinner is done, the Clinic gives us about three hours of downtime before we must go to sleep. There are no clocks in any of our rooms. Or in any other room that I could see in the Woodrow Clinic. So, I’m not sure what time it was right now. It was probably another thing that they were using to keep us disoriented. Keep us from being able to understand how much time has passed by. Why else wouldn’t they allow us to have a clock in any of our rooms or anywhere else us ‘pets’ could see it?

If not to disorient us, then what? The idea that maybe they were too cheap to do so cropped up in my mind. And it seemed plausible. Though I’m certain that the idea of it being a way to disorient everyone still ran through my mind.

While I wrote I found my thoughts drifting away from me. To that freaky orderly that I had seen a few hours ago. John. A part of me wished that I could ask other people in the Woodrow Clinic about him. See how they feel about him as a person. As an orderly. If he were someone that was safe to be around or not. Though there was feeling in my gut that made me feel that he wasn’t someone to be trusted. That John was someone that supports the overly tanned tyrant and everything he did. Especially now that it benefited him. It made me worried about what he could do to others in the Woodrow Clinic. What he could do with Gabriel when given the chance. It was something that made my blood grow cold as I tried not to imagine it. Setting my pen down briefly to try and dispel the horrifying images that came to mind. Each was more horrific than the last. Forcing myself to stop imagining took considerably more effort than I care to admit. It was hard to not think of how John’s body language. His attitude when he flashed his eyes towards me in some strange form of…anger.

The way that he took Gabriel back to his room. It kind of reminded me of an owner that was overprotective with his pet. Which made me shudder as I sat there. I hoped that Gabriel could never become a pet for that bastard. In fact, I hope that no one could ever become a pet to that freak. I somewhat hope that he dies painfully slowed. Which made me try to ignore him to the best of my ability. It was something that slightly horrified me about this. Despite how hard I was trying not to think of Gabriel. I couldn’t stop myself in the slightest bit. Wondering how he was and if John was harming him at all. I prayed that Gabriel was safe in that terrible room of his. That he was perfectly safe and possibly writing his own journal entry as well.

It was difficult to try and put him out of my mind. But I did as I needed to complete the task that I had at hand. Despite how concerned I was with the young man; I had to keep up appearances of being converted by the program. Soon as I was done writing the false entry into my journal, I would be able to think of him. And I prayed that I could write a decent journal in that the Clinic is monitoring would approve of. Keeping the man out of my mind as best we can do while I pick up the pen again. But Gabriel wouldn’t stop coming to my mind no matter how hard I tried as I stared at the blank page.

Just the way that he made eye contact with me during the group ‘therapy’ session. And how terrified he seemed during it. Trembling when Alya made eye contact with him. And had everyone in the room glaring at him for making any facial expression at all. During that time, I really wished that I could speak to him. Whisper into his ear the name that I had given myself. To inform him that I was a trans woman. Even though it probably wouldn’t be the wisest decision in the world. Not with some of those people in our group ‘therapy’. Since any of them could snitch on us if they possibly heard us at all. And I am worried about them possibly snitching on all of us. Concerned that these people can see straight through me. It’s one of my biggest concerns about this terrible place. It feels like they could possibly see through me anytime. That one of these days I’ll be seen for the fraud that I am. But I shoved the feeling down as I uncapped my pen and started to write once more.

_________________________

Dear Journal,

Today marks the sixth month that I have been in the Woodrow Clinic. It feels a whole lot longer than that if I’m being honest. I feel as though I’ve been here for a year or more. The exercise program that I had done this time was difficult. But I suppose that I am grateful to be able to workout as much as I have done. Exercising had been difficult when I wasn’t in the program. Being here has helped me drop at least eighty pounds?

I’m not sure as I haven’t had a chance to weigh myself since.

Well, I haven’t been able to do more of them thanks to my hips being injured. Or rather they’re just hurting me badly. Walking has been a bit of a chore, and I hope it ends soon. That way I can start working out again. I’ve been dying to get up and start the routine that I have been given since I started coming here. And I hope that once I’m walking again, I can start to make friends with others that are here. Since the others have been somewhat ignoring me while we have been doing our therapeutic exercises. The therapy exercises have also been difficult for me to do while I’m in the wheelchair. Luckily the staff were pretty kind to me when I couldn’t do everything that everyone else has been. A whole lot more patient than I was expecting them to be.

I anticipated that they would be a lot less so.

Yet so far, they have been kind while I worked out. Even being sure that I didn’t hurt myself while they worked with me. Keeping me on track as well. It was great. They were so helpful and kind to me the entire time. I wish I could thank them for helping me out so far. But I’m not sure what I can say to them that doesn’t sound like sucking up. I want to seem grateful without coming off as a weirdo or a creep. It is something that I worry about a lot.

And I feel that I worry way too much about this.

Anyway. I hope that tomorrow I’ll get a chance to talk to our newest group therapy member. Amelia Fontaine if I’m remembering her name right. She seems like such a shy girl, and I want to make her feel welcome. I also want to just speak to her in general. Give her some tips about how to be a good Philia Pet. Like I’m hoping to be as well. Since I have been in the program a whole lot longer than she technically has. I feel that I can give her some tips on what to do. How to handle herself and to get herself in the mindset of being a Philia Pet. Amelia and I might even get to be friends during this whole time.

I hope.

Sincerely,

Jonah McClain.

______________________________

Soon as I finished the journal entry, I put it back in the bag that’s attached to my wheelchair. I started stretching a little bit as I have been feeling pretty tense all day. Feeling and hearing a few pops in the process. Smiling a little at how good it felt to have my shoulders pop along with my spine. It has really been way too long since I have been stretched. So long that I can’t even remember the last time that I properly stretched in the six months that I’ve been here. Then again, I haven’t done much of the stuff that I normally do in so much time. There is a whole lot of stuff that I couldn’t get to do while being here. Like getting to make my own breakfast with proportions that I like to eat. And stuff that I really would like to eat. Instead of the disgusting crap that they’re making me eat. Food that’s seasoned instead of just cooked.

I wish I could find stuff that I liked at all.

There is a whole lot of stuff that I would like to do that I haven’t been able to. Mostly this one thing that I love getting. A back massage. Back massages are something that I missed so much since overly tanned tyrant came into power. And since I’ve been dragged into the Woodrow Clinic, I haven’t gotten a massage or stretched. I know that this is such a small luxury that doesn’t really mean much in the grand scheme of things. But it was a small luxury that I loved to spend money on. Mostly thanks to the fact that it felt good. The people that work there were so friendly and did a great job working on my back. I miss them so much and I wonder what they’re up to. They’re hopefully still in business despite everything that’s going on. But I have no way of knowing thanks to the whole fact they keep us in the dark.

This is one of the things that I have missed so much. Along with my pet rabbit pet that I missed so damn much. Her name was Shadow. She was something that made my life so happy. I had her for at least a year before things went to Hell. When they did, I had planned her meals and everything else in her life. Things had been perfectly fine, and I kept her healthy for so long. Despite this whole fact my ex-girlfriend did something that I can never forgive her for. Something that I had wished I had stopped her from doing. Keeping my sweet little Shadow with me when I left for work instead of leaving her in her pen. When I came home after work, I found everything that I had for her was gone and in the trash. Along with the food that I had bought for her. My ex-girlfriend had allowed the landlord to take my precious Shadow out of the apartment. While she got rid of everything that my precious baby owned. When she got back later that night, I confronted her about what had happened to Shadow. She told me what she did. That she gave my Shadow to the landlord as owning her was considered illegal somehow. Spending an hour to keep me from trying to go get my precious baby from the landlord. Going from trying to convince me that this was good and then she threatened to turn me in. So, I never went to go get Shadow from the landlord.

Later that night Shadow was put down along with a lot of other pets.

That was one of the worst moments in my life and I felt like a prisoner. Almost as much as I do in the Woodrow Clinic. That’s the only other thing in my life that’s terrible. Being sent to the Woodrow Clinic after losing my pet. And being treated so poorly by my ex-girlfriend…and I shouldn’t be overthinking this. If I linger on that I’m sure my head will start hurting from how angry I am. What I need to be focusing on is getting better to escape. Like working on the ability to walk without getting completely breathless. Or sweating like a goddamned pig. I used the back of my hand to wipe sweat from my forehead. It was so difficult as I leaned back a little bit as I wished I had a bottle of water to drink and regain my energy. That would help me somewhat regain my energy. Taking a few deep breaths as I rethink how to escape the Clinic. Maybe if I got a look at the layout of the entire Clinic’s floor then I would be business? It would help me know where all the exits are along with possibly where the cameras are too. If I’m lucky then I would find a way to go around the cameras and to some blind spots where they clearly can’t see me. Though I do hope I can find something to help me destroy some of the cameras silently.

That way me and some others can flee easier if I can get anyone to come with me.

And as soon as I can get myself back into normal shape. Though I guess I can be grateful that I’m thinner now. If I remember how the gate bars look, I might be able to easily squeeze through them. And when my body doesn’t feel so painful, I could possibly outrun most of the orderlies here to get to the gates. Along with a few others. As I remember how the orderlies aren’t all that fast in their reflexes and take a while to catch up with each other. Okay it’s probably wishful thinking on my part but I still want to hope that I can leave here. I can’t allow myself to feel less than hopeful that I won’t be able to leave ever. All I need to do is slowly work up to walking like I normally do and run out of here. Along with having a decent plan to escape this place. It will happen. I’m putting this out into the universe, and I will do it.

While I sat in the wheelchair, I noticed that the lights were starting to dim down. This was the normal sign that it was almost lights out. It’s been happening for the past few months, and I sighed as I sat up straighter. We normally get about an hour or so before the lights go out. Cracking my neck, I wait for the orderly to come in and help me get ready to sleep. Another time of them doing stuff to me that makes me uncomfortable. Being forced into pajamas that Eric, the orderly that touches me without permission, thinks is cute for me. It makes me feel less like a person and more like a dress-up doll that he likes to play with. I wish I could go about my normal bedtime routine. Where I can turn on a meditation video while laying down in my bed. Listening to it on my phone with my headphones plugged in. So that way I wouldn’t wake up my light sleeper of an ex-girlfriend. Getting to wear clothes that I love. A nice pair of sweatpants with a loose-fitting t-shirt that was worn out and so soft feeling.

Never thought I would miss a stupid old ratty T-shirt, but I do.

It wasn’t long before the sound of footsteps dragged me out of my thoughts. Frowning, I looked up at the door as I listened to the person approaching my door. My stomach twisting as I knew who was going to be coming through those doors. With not only my toothbrush and toothpaste. Along with the water cup to rinse my mouth and an empty cup to spit in. Eric said that he was going to be bringing me some pajamas to wear. Something that I haven’t worn in a few months since coming to the Woodrow Clinic. All he has been doing in the past few months is putting me in a new hospital gown instead. And I shoved those memories down as he came in with a cart. A fabric bundle in his free hand as he smiled at me. Moving the cart to the side of me as he carefully picked me up from the wheelchair. Setting me down on the foam mat that serves as a bed in this place. I shut my eyes as he started to undress me. Since I didn’t want to look at my body anymore than I have been doing during these six months. Something that Eric seemed to find funny as he chuckled under his breath. Calling me a shy little thing.

I have never wanted to punch someone so much in my life.

Soon as the pajamas were put on me, he had me sit up. Getting the tray with my toothbrush and everything down. He put the toothpaste on my brush for me already. Keeping a neutral look on my face, I brush my teeth. Then I took a swig of water before I swished it in my mouth. When I was done, I spit it out in the empty cup. Wiping my chin as I looked up at the annoying orderly that annoys the Hell out of me. Once I was done, he put the tray back on the cart. Afterwards he petted my head in a disturbingly gentle manner. Cooing softly to me as he stated,”Such a good boy, Jonah. You’re one of the best boys here. I know that you’re going to get a good home.”

“I just hope they’re going to let me visit you.”,Eric added. Gently pushing me back on my bed until I was laying down. Soon as my head hit the pillow, Eric tucked me in. Gently petting my shoulder as my eyelids shut. When he was sure that I was asleep, he left the room. I listened carefully as he rolled the cart out with the tray and that hospital gown that I wore. The lights were turned out not that long afterward. Leaving me laying there as I tried to fall asleep. Hoping that tomorrow I can get to see Gabriel. And that things were going to be better than today.