Reparative Pal Program Ten

After this, John got bored of this gently setting me back in the wheelchair. Taking great pains to make sure that I wasn’t jostled too much. He treated me like I was made from a fragile kind of glass that would break otherwise. But I ignored that as he cleaned up the trays first. John had taken them back to the kitchen or wherever they went when we were done with them. Then came back to me and wheeled me down the hallway. Straight towards another room that was twice the size of the room I had just been in. Maybe even a bit bigger than the cafeteria that I briefly saw some time ago on the way to Alya’s office. There were several tables that were just like the tables in the other room as well. A large T.V was set up against the farthest wall. Right in the middle of it at a height that most of the patients wouldn’t be able to reach. On it was a channel that had played what I had seen in passing in town.

Pictures, names, and locations about ‘criminals’ that had been recently captured. Some looked even younger than the age of eighteen. Others looked much older than that. From the brief glance that I got at the time.

I had no idea why John had wanted me to see this for. Or why we were the only ones in the room at the time. If I had to guess now, he might have wanted to see how many others might be admitted to the Woodrow Clinic. Maybe it might not have been. Thinking over John’s thought process might take me hours or even years to understand. I would rather not try to. No matter how much it would interest me, I would be much better off not knowing. And at that moment, I realized it would be better not to know. All I did wish to know is how many were being taken away as ‘criminals’ and what for. My stomach twisted itself into little knots as I watched the screen with him. This was a horror that I had never witnessed long before this. As John locked the wheelchair in place, I felt my stomach drop to the floor. Sudden realization had overwhelmed me as I realized that I haven’t seen any newcomers. Nor had I heard about any newcomers. Maybe that was something to do with how I was being held hostage? Or maybe the newcomers were supposed to be in an isolation room for some time?

Either way, I’m not entirely certain where else these folks were supposed to be at. Or if they even were here at all. As I haven’t kept count of how many places like Woodrow Clinic there are. In fact, it might be impossible to really keep count. There seem to be so many that pop up every time that I turned around when I was free. Well, freer than this. While I sat there, John gently grasped my shoulders. Squeezing them lightly as he watched the people going by on the screen with me silently for a few moments. Then a second later, he had muttered,”It really is such a pity, Chickpea.”

“All of those genderfreaks that got caught. Along with those other folks. They’re so damn broken.”,John had grumbled. In a tone that sent shivers down my spine while I watched the screen. Broken? None of them were broken. The thing that was broken was this whole damn country if I were honest. And I didn’t think people who were different deserved to be treated like this. Things that had been handled were not too different around eight years or so ago. Maybe longer if I’m remembering right. Several things were destroyed when the autarch was put into power some time ago. Those were some of them. Along with a lot of books on disabilities along with programs that were meant for them. And for folks like me. But I feared John’s anger at the time, and I still fear it to be honest. I was so sure that he would harm me if I said anything against his words. So, I just remained silent as we watched the screen. Figuring that he wouldn’t need me to say a word anyways. And obviously he didn’t as he continued to speak at me instead of to me. In a soft tone, he admitted,”You’re so lucky to be here, Chickpea. Not every clinic is like the Woodrow Clinic and they’re a lot worse.”

Giving my shoulders a gentle squeeze as if to reassure me. The touch was anything but at the time. And I had the hardest time trying to not tense up while I stared at the screen. Heart pounding against my chest as I sat there. Feeling my blood slowly turn to ice when it was something that I had thought of for a bit. Having confirmed this by someone like John didn’t make it any easier. A few seconds later, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders as he settled his chin on the top of my head. Nuzzling his cheek against the crown of my head in a gentle and nearly loving manner. It would have calmed me. Would have filled me with warmth if we weren’t watching what was on the screen.

All those poor people on the screen.

The way that John was holding me wasn’t really to distract me from the horror on the screen. Which was freezing my blood to a stop. It felt like it was something he was doing. But in reality, he just probably wanted to watch the news for his own benefit. Keep himself in the know so he could tell how many people were captured. Just to get a good idea of how many folks could be inside the Woodrow Clinic or not. Yet I had this nagging feeling in my gut that it was way more than that. That is way more than that. I’m still certain of this fact. Though I didn’t say anything when he leaned against me. Watching the screen that showed at least twenty or more unfortunate people who had been unfairly arrested. Their pictures moved so fast that I didn’t get a proper count of how many folks had been arrested or not. I knew that some of them were in a similar situation to me. Others seemed to be trans women or were nonbinary. Maybe genderfluid or agender. I couldn’t read the words that were under their picture fast enough. So, I couldn’t be entirely sure of this fact. But I could be sure of the few straight people that had been on the screen. Maybe five or so. Again, I couldn’t be sure of this count from the speed the news moved their pictures.

But there was more than one.

“What morons. Trying to keep those confused, sick, and damaged people from getting what they deserve. Hopefully they’re going to get what they deserve, Chickpea.”,he had stated. In a tone that suggested he was disgusted with them. And that he would want to see them be harmed or worse than that. My guess is killed. He petted my shoulders as I continued to watch the screen. Making me sick to my stomach as he talked about someone trying to save others. From fate, I still think it is worse than euthanasia. His tone was so full of anger, condescension, and a wee bit of something I couldn’t place at the time. I think it might have been the barest amount of pity that he could muster for those folks. Though I’m not entirely sure if I really heard that or not. It might be me just projecting my thoughts onto his actions. Either way, it made me want to turn around and slap those disgusting words out of his mouth. Maybe even punch him until his nose broke and blood gushed out of his nose like a damn fountain.

But I did my best to stop myself. Since I know that this wouldn’t do me any favors. At all. Especially since I still am not back to my normal strength. Though when I’m back to normal I will be making him pay. For every single indignity that he has put me through. Like the whole sleeping on a former dog bed without a pillow or blanket. That is harder to sleep on than that damn foam mat that I used to sleep on. It might be a while but when I am back to normal, I’ll make him wish I hadn’t ever been born.

Or rather make him wish he hadn’t been born.

I did my best to bite my tongue as we watched the program for a bit. Pity swelled in my heart as I watched those faces go past on the screen. I had silently prayed that they could escape someday and get somewhere safe. At the time I was sure that they could. Though now I’m not as hopeful that they would be able to. Just like I’m not feeling any hope that I could be able to get free. As hope has become scarcer than the internet has been. It has been quite a few months since I have tried to find any means of escape. So far, I haven’t been able to find any means to get out of John’s home or the Woodrow Clinic.

No matter how hard I have tried. I really haven’t found anything that would work to help me. In the time that I’ve been forced to be there the windows were unusable. As they were all nailed shut. And I can’t tell if they were nailed shut because he was bringing me home. Or if he was worried that someone would try to break in. Either way, they weren’t going to be something that I would be able to use. Neither were the keys that he had. As they were in a small drawer in the nightstand next to the bed. Which were locked every night with a tiny key that he hides under the pillows. Of course, I can’t sneak my hand under those. I could possibly accidentally wake him and get the worst amount of punishment that I couldn’t be able to handle. His front door has several locks on it that make getting out difficult. Even if I were to unlock some of them, I would need one of the keys that are in the nightstand drawer. So, there was no way that I could just unlock them to get out that way.

Not without him finding out what I’m doing.

There’s also the whole fact that walking is still difficult for me. This took me about two weeks or so. Maybe a little longer than that. I would have to re-read my journal to be sure how many weeks have passed since I started walking again. It will have to wait as Alya is reading them in her office for the check in on my mental progress. Or what she believes is my mental progress with the program. It’s been good that I have been managing to keep her in the dark on how I really am. And I’m still angry with my inability to walk as fast as I would like to. Sort of the same pace as a healthy seventy-year-old can walk. I would try to run but I’m afraid that I will fall over and must explain why I am trying to run at all. Something that I know I wouldn’t be able to properly make a lie about. Sure, it is good to finally be out of the damn wheelchair. Even though I do have to walk after John whenever we are in the Woodrow Clinic. It was good that he hasn’t gotten impatient with me when I can’t keep up with him. It’s sort of weird how he just waits a little or gently takes my hand and walks with me down the hallways. Praise me for my progress in how well I have been recovering my ability to walk without a wheelchair.

It's both annoyingly condescending and made me feel so warm inside.

At any rate, I’m grateful for my progress even if it doesn’t feel good enough to me. I also get left alone with other ‘patients’ in the program now. Since they seem to believe that I’m progressing better than I had been. And thanks to this I have found out that the person that was in the wheelchair’s name. That she is a trans woman. Like I had the inkling that she was. She apparently already knew that I was a trans man. I guess my face somehow was being projected on the ‘Wrong Ones’ thing for a few months. I’m not sure I want to find out why. At any rate, she managed to tell me about her name in a whisper, Joanna. They called her ‘Jonah’ before they left us alone together. Joanna was no longer in a wheelchair and was walking as well. We had to be careful to talk as we were sure the person manning the cameras could read our lips. So, we spoke so softly and barely moved our lips. It felt so good to finally be able to speak to her. Even if we had to be careful of the cameras and orderlies.

Especially John and Eric.

Eric is one of the other orderlies that picked me up from the house. His eyes are still as cold and empty looking as they were that day. Making my skin crawl anytime that I ever looked at him. Or rather almost looked him dead in those creepy eyes of his. Despite our situation not rapidly getting better to my liking, Joanna is still optimistic. Still believes that we will be able to escape the Woodrow Clinic and find a place to keep ourselves safe from harm. Maybe even continue living our lives as the people that we were. I wish that I could be as optimistic as she is right now. I wish that I could feel the way that she has been feeling as well. But I won’t allow my despair to overwhelm me and pretend that I feel the same as Joanna. That way I might start to feel the optimism that she was feeling. Not allowing myself to allow the state of where I am to get to me. It’s easier as Joanna has made quite a bit of progress in a few weeks. So far, she’s gotten to sneak a peek at the schematics of the building. Where were all the exits at in the building. Along with the position of the cameras were in the building as well. Joanna explained that she has a photographic memory and that she could help us escape easier. It was perfect. I was so happy to find out that she had this and that even if it takes a little while to escape, we’ll still be fine. This has really strengthened my hope that we’ll be able to escape.

Even if I feel so tired from the therapy that John has been having me do. And the other things that Alya has been wanting me to do as well. All the stupid scheduling, empathetic exercises, and the weird amount of roleplay as well. Yes, I was forced to act out some stuff by John. All these weird things that he has been writing. They’re scenarios that John and Alya say that I would have to deal with in the future. Such as trying to be more empathetic towards someone that would be my ‘master’. Despite what Alya says about John’s writing being good, I think it’s total garbage. It is so terrible and makes me think that he has never spoken to another human being in his life. Almost as bad as some of the fanfiction that I had written when I was thirteen. But at least I had an excuse to being a young teen. Even though his writing really makes me cringe, I pretend that it’s perfectly fine and act politely about it. Mostly afraid of the punishment that I would be getting if I harm his feelings in any way.

Despite how much I want to hurt him over his writing. Emotionally. His writing has been bad enough for me to physically harm him. Not yet anyway.

Though things are going to be different today. Since we will be staying at John’s home instead of going to Woodrow Clinic. John has a cold that he caught from someone. Maybe it might have been Eric or some other orderly. I am not too sure. Either way, I have been allowed to do things around the house like I want to. And John has been quite a bit quieter since he called in this morning. A thing that I didn’t think would be as good as it is. Nor did I think I wouldn’t feel as unworried as I am right now. Well, worried about his wellbeing I mean. I am worried that I might possibly catch his cold if I’m not careful enough. Since I’m sort of worried that my immune system might not be able to handle this or not. I feel as though my immune system may have been compromised thanks to everything that’s happened. One, I haven’t been able to get any sort of shots that I need. Or any form of medicine that I normally take. And two, I’ve been isolated from the public and worried that I’ll catch something easier.

It's stupid but, still.

At any rate I’ve been grateful for this opportunity to use the kitchen unsupervised. So that I can check it for any means of getting out of this place. I’m grateful that the Woodrow Clinic hasn’t preemptively put up cameras in John’s home. As I’ve checked over this place from top to bottom this morning. There are none that I can easily see or any that are hidden in places. Like I checked as hard as I could for them. And I suppose they trust him more than I thought they would. Or rather they have allowed him to do this more than once, so they know he has preventative measures up. And that he can keep people like me inside his house without any form of difficulties. Which makes a chill go down my spine but, I ignore it as I continue to search the kitchen for something that would help me escape. Well at least something that I would be able to use in an escape from this place. That way I can go back to the Woodrow Clinic easier and save Joanna from that shitty place. I hope that I can get John’s car keys along with the keys that open the front door.

As I was looking through the house as quietly as I could, I spotted the back door. And I carefully walked up to it as I reached for the doorknob. Hope fluttering in my stomach as I felt myself smiling with real happiness for once in a long while. Last night John did his normal routine of locking the doors while I was in his room. I heard him lock one door last night. It hit me that I hadn’t heard him lock this one. Or at least I don’t remember hearing him lock the back door. If it isn’t locked, then I can escape later tonight with the car keys out of the backyard. Sure, it will be difficult to climb over the fence but, I’ll try it. My heart raced as I grasped the doorknob to see if it was unlocked or not. I felt my heart drop as I realized that it was indeed locked. Frowning deeply as I realized that I may have fallen asleep before John came back to the room. It may have only one lock, but I don’t know how to pick a lock. It was something that I wish I had remembered from Tumblr. And I wished that I could use my phone to look it up on the site. I also wished that I had Joanna’s memory so that I could remember how to do it. I wonder what it’s like to have that kind of memory and just how convenient it can be.

Meanwhile, I have the mind of a steel colander.

At any rate, I decided it was probably for the best to not dwell on it. If I kept lingering on the door instead of making John lunch, he would suspect something. So, I walked over to the cupboards and got out items to make a simple meal for him. A can of chicken noodle soup along with some white bread. A jar of peanut butter as well. Then I hurriedly walked over to the fridge and got out the jar of grape jelly. Hurriedly heading back to the counter, I set down the food stuff at. It takes a few seconds for me to get the can of chicken noodle soup open then into a pan. Heating it up while I start making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Something that I haven’t been able to make in quite a few months since I was arrested. First, I made John’s sandwich and then I made myself a small one. While I ate it, I realized how much I was enjoying it. It was just a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Something that isn’t even all that flavorful and here I am, so happy to be eating it. Maybe because it’s more flavorful than anything that I have eaten in the Woodrow Clinic. Sure, it wasn’t all that flavorful in the slightest bit. Just a little sweet and a little bit salty as well. Never realized that I was missing a simple sandwich so much. Yet here I was feeling so joyful that I was eating it again. Like it was the best food in the entire world. Softly, I muttered,”It’s just a peanut butter sandwich.”

“Why am I so damn happy?”,I said under my voice. As I didn’t want John to know that I was talking without him around. One of John’s rules for his home is to only talk when spoken to. Which I find odd since pets never had to speak without being talked to. I know full well that no dog or cat I know had to. Not from what I vaguely remember of any of them. No one forced dogs or cats or any form of pet to be silent for the rest of their lives. But I must be silent so that John isn’t angry with me. It feels like utter bullshit. At any rate, I watch the pot with his chicken noodle soup for a little bit. Finishing up the sandwich as I put my plate in the sink as it continues to sit there. Watching soup boil is even less fun than I thought it was going to be. To distract myself, I turned to look outside of the window nearest the back door. Watching the clouds go by with a small smile on my face. There was another thing that I hadn’t realized that I missed seeing since I was in the Woodrow Clinic. It was something that I missed way more than anything. Looking at the clouds, I sighed as I tried to figure out what kind of shapes are in them. When I found a rabbit, I noticed the sound of something bubbling near me. Quickly, I turned to see that it was boiling a little bit and quickly turned off the burner. Moving the pot to stop it from bubbling up more. After I do that, I get John a bowl of chicken noodle soup. Then I make myself a small bowl of it as well.

I had to blow on it a few times before it started to be cool enough to eat. Though I was so hungry that I was tempted to eat it hot. And it was difficult for me to keep myself from doing this at first. But I managed it and started quickly eating the small bowl of it. Not realizing that it was something that I was super happy about. I haven’t had chicken noodle soup for so long that I couldn’t believe it tasted so good. When I finished eating my bowl of soup, I put it in the sink. Along with the pot that I heated it in. Take care to put it in a separate part of the sink. As I didn’t want to melt the plastic from the bowls. Then I got a tray to put John’s food on to make it easier to carry to his room. Well, ‘our’ room as he likes to call it. Even though I have nothing in his rooms that I could even begin to consider mine. Not that former dog bed or anything else like it. Forcing a small smile on my face, I carried his food to his room as quickly as I could. Trying to not spill any of it on the ground as I walk up to his bed. Setting the tray down on the nightstand before I sat down on the floor near the bed. Sitting on my knees as I watched him take the tray from the nightstand and set it on his lap. In a calm voice, he stated,”Thank you, Chickpea. I appreciate this.”

Then he carefully leaned over to me and patted my head gently. A small smile on his face as he did so. It made me blush a little bit as he went to eat the food that I had made him not that long ago. I watch him carefully as I wished I had poisoned his food. In fact, I wish I could just slowly poison his food each day. Right until he’s too weak to stop me from running away or dying. Whichever came first so I didn’t have to deal with him ever again. But I can’t. Mostly thanks to the fact that I don’t think he has anything in his house to do that. Cleaning supplies would be easily smelled in his food, and he has no poisons. But I ignored it as I just kept my hands in my lap. Pretending that I am not having these thoughts. Especially right now. He might be too sick to go to work but, he’s still too strong for me to kill. He proves this as he puts the tray of dishes on the nightstand then quickly picks me up. Sitting me down on his lap as he gives a soft sigh of contentment. It makes me so uncomfortable as I realized I was used to his touch. And the fact that one day I might be fine with it sort of terrifies me. Along with the fact that I might catch the cold that he has. I really don’t want to catch his nasty cold and get sick for who knows how long. Since colds were harder to get rid of before medicine got so pricey. Now that I can’t go out and buy any medicine it might take forever for me to get better. It makes me even more worried since he is holding me so damn close right now. Pressing my cheek against his chest in a sort of hug that I had to try and not shudder from. It takes a lot of effort on my part as I sit in his lap. Listening to him sigh once more content. Pulling away from the hug, he looks down at me with a large smile on his face. In a low voice, he mutters,”You really have been spoiling me today, Chickpea. I knew I made the right decision in helping your adorable butt out.”

“Now, I’m going to go take a shower and get into nicer pajamas. When I get back, we’re going to be taking a nap for a bit and watching a movie.”,he cooed. It was something else that I was slowly getting more and more used to. But I did my best not to show my displeasure as we sat together. He was petting my cheek with a creepy grin on his face. I didn’t want to take a nap. Much less take a nap with him in his bed. Especially since he was sick. Sure, it was a mild cold at best. Maybe it wouldn’t be as contagious as I think it was. Though I would rather not take the chance if I really didn’t have to. Instead, I just nodded my head gently while I looked between his eyes. As I still haven’t become comfortable with looking others in the eyes at all. Pushing this feeling down, John continues,”If you’re a good girl, Chickpea then I might let you pick out our movie. And I might even order us some pizza with cheese breadsticks.”

“So be good and stay on the bed while I get ready to take our nap.”,he instructed. Carefully setting me on the other side of himself on the bed. Putting me under the covers before tucking me into it as well. Petting my hair with a small smile on his face. I watched him as he walked over to his dresser and grabbed some of his clothes. Which were plaid pajama bottoms along with a t-shirt. I rested my head on the pillow as I watched him hurry into his bathroom. Keeping a careful eye on the bathroom door as I listened intently. A second later the sound of rushing water made me smile as I quickly got out from under the covers. Realizing that this was the perfect chance for me to find the key to his nightstand. That way I could get those keys out of the drawer and hide them somewhere in the room to get out of here. Well, get out of here sometime later. Maybe tonight if I’m lucky enough. I checked under all the pillows on his bed as I chewed on my bottom lip. His small key wasn’t under any of the pillows. My heart pounded hard in my chest as I tried not to panic as I lifted the pillows up a little bit to look under them.

There was nothing.

It made me horrified as I hurriedly kept trying to look for the key under everywhere else. Nothing. Not a single key in sight. I felt panicked as I looked down at the nightstand drawer as I tried not to cry or anything. Fearing that John would notice that I had red eyes and ask me what was wrong. And I’m not in the mood to try to lie to him about it. So, in a bit of panic, I reached down to grab the handle of it. Carefully grabbing it as I guess I wanted to test if I could even open it at all. To my utter surprise, it opened a little bit. My eyes widened a little as I slowly started to pull the drawer out to not make much noise. It was the first time in a long time that I have been truly lucky around here and I didn’t want to ruin it. Soon as I opened it, I spotted the keys that opened the doors in the rest of the house. Which ones did that I wasn’t entirely certain. But I would figure it out when I could get the chance to. Maybe tonight. Or maybe tomorrow night if I can’t try the doors later tonight. Though I hope that I can do it tonight since I’m sure that John will notice quickly the keys are missing if I don’t. And I know full well that I would be harshly punished for it by him. Or quite possibly and more likely be euthanized. Either way I snatch them out of the drawer as carefully as I can to avoid making them jingle. Since I’m pretty sure that John would hear that noise even with the water rushing like that. I could still hear it running as I carefully shut the drawer. Then place the keys under the nightstand itself. Since it’s small enough for the keys to be under it without any issue. This way I can easily reach them later tonight.

At least, I’m hoping that I will be able to do that.

With the keys stuck under the nightstand, I carefully slink back into place. Making sure that I can get myself back into the place that he had left me in. As I don’t want him to realize that I moved from my spot. John would be suspicious that I might have done something in his room. And I did my best to push the pillows back into place. Since they will make John realize that I had moved while he wasn’t there. Maybe even think that I had tried to steal or something like that. This might be me being paranoid but, I’m fairly sure that I’m not. A little bit after I manage to get the blankets back around me just right, the shower turns off. Followed by the sound of him putting more clothes back on as I lay back down. Listening to the door open before lifting my head back up to look at him. Wearing the clean pajamas that he got for himself. Smiling at me as he walked back over to the bed and lifted the blankets. Scooting closer to me as I kept a neutral look on my face when he reached over for me. Wrapping his arms around my upper chest as he pulled me close to him. Curling around me as he turns me to my side and makes me face away from him. A second later he’s pulling me close enough that my back is pressed against his chest. His face pressed into my hair with a content sigh as he pulled the blanket over himself. I don’t need to turn around to see that he’s probably smiling behind me.

John is so damn predictable sometimes.

I hear him yawn before he starts to nuzzle my hair once again. These were things that I was starting to get way too used to. Him cuddling up to me like he was a toddler with a teddy bear. This was something that I didn’t really want to get used to. But here I was getting used to it. Hating myself for not being upset with it as I lay there. Just laying my arms out in front of me and grasping the sheets gently. Not allowing myself to grip it too tightly as I feared he would get angry with me over it. His sheets would probably make him angry with me. I did my best to keep calm and relaxed while I lay next to him. Pretending that his hold on me wasn’t making me shudder on the inside. Or that I hated the smell of his soap. Which was probably Irish Spring. Maybe. I don’t care. Either way, I’m going to be in for an annoying long time with him lying this close to me. Being held this close to him as he falls asleep. His bed is nice, but I know full well that I’m not going to be getting a nap anytime soon. When I’m on the floor, I’m getting a lot better sleep than I would be near him. The entire time that I ‘sleep’ there, I heard him snoring. It’s so loud that I’m even hearing it in my sleep sometimes. The guy’s snores become someone else’s words while I sleep.

A few times his snores became Joanna’s words when I was dreaming of her. It was strange and annoying while I tried to sleep. And here I thought that the former dog bed being so thin was going to be my worst problem. I mean it is one of the biggest reasons that I don’t sleep all that often. But John’s snoring is another reason why I’m not getting enough sleep. It makes me want to put a pillow over his face and smother him. I’ve imagined myself doing this more than once on more than one occasion. Even when I’m awake and at the Woodrow Clinic with Joanna and all the others during our group therapy sessions. A few times they’ve almost made me miss someone talking to me and I nearly get in trouble because of that.

I close my eyes as I lay there. Listening to John snore into my ear a few minutes after he fell asleep. It was bad enough that I could hear him snoring from the floor on that former dog bed. Having him this close to me while ‘sleeping’ was even worse. Especially when his mouth was near my ear this time around. Making me wish that I could shove his hands from me and just run out of the fucking room. Hell, I could just go back to the damn dog bed that is there instead of laying here on the bed with him. I think I would get better sleep from the damn dog bed. The few hours, maybe it was just an hour, that we lay there I just think of how to get to Joanna. The best way to save her from the Woodrow Clinic. Trying to remember where she said that there aren’t any cameras that could spot me coming back into the clinic by myself. Since security would be on me within an instant of me getting in there. They would euthanize me instead of just merely punishing me like they would for me breaking a rule. I know full well that breaking into the Woodrow Clinic would be punishable by death instead of just starvation. Or whatever else those assholes could possibly come up with on the spot.

Which is what I think they do with a lot of their punishments. Despite being government funded I’m certain that they are just doing that.

While I was thinking that over, I felt John shifting in bed behind me. Hearing him give a few groans and coughs as he wakes up. Getting up once again as he leaned over me and pressed a few kisses to my cheek. Just like how he wakes me up in the morning since I came in here. It annoys me while I resist the urge to shove him away. Just like I have been for the past few months, I suppose I’ll never be able to handle something like that. Even when I’m going to be getting out of here. This is also something that he doesn’t do when we’re at the Woodrow Clinic. I’m not sure why he doesn’t bother kissing me at the clinic for. Well, I’m sure why John doesn’t kiss me or really touch me that much at the Woodrow Clinic. Since this is unprofessional and could more than likely get him fired. It would be something that he deserves. Getting fired for being so disgustingly touchy feely with someone he’s meant to be helping. Okay, I know that there is a more accurate terminology for what John is doing to me. But I really can’t think of it right now. To think of it right now is to see myself in a light that I would rather not dwell upon. Right now, I need to dwell upon something much healthier than that.

Okay, so dealing with John isn’t what I would ever consider healthier. But it is much better than dealing with my own issues right now. Shoving these feelings down, I sit up and do my best to smile at him, so he has no idea what I’m thinking. I must be on my best behavior so that he wouldn’t be upset with me. That way John wouldn’t suspect that I’m up to anything. I just want him to think that I’m going to be his good little ‘Companion Prisoner’ like he wants. Or rather his ‘Philia Pet’ as that is the terminology that he prefers. I smile as he finally allows me to sit up and starts to order our food on his phone. Playing with it as he looking at him, he asked,”How about we have one pepperoni pizza then a sausage and spinach pizza?”

“That sounds pretty good to me.”,I answer. Not like it really matters if I agree with it or not. But I figured making it seem like I did will make this easier. Everything about this will be easier if I just go along with it. And I smile as he nods his head ordering the food for us. Which would take at least an hour or so. Pizza deliveries take a whole lot longer than they used to. I’m not sure why they don’t do that anymore. It might have to be due to how much gas costs now, as opposed to a couple of years ago. It might be something else. Either way, it’ll be a long while before we’re going to be getting dinner. I suppose I can live with that. And while we wait for our food to come, John gets out of bed and leads me to the living room. Having me sit on his couch while he was getting the T.V set up. He turns on the PS5 that he owns and starts up a movie that I had heard of but never planned on seeing. ‘Skinamarink’. This movie doesn’t seem like it was scary in the slightest bit. But I had this odd feeling when I started watching it. Settling my hands in my lap as I listened to it start. There was something so unnerving by it and I don’t mean scary. But this strange sensation was just utterly uncomfortable for me. Like I wasn’t too sure why the movie was doing this to me but, I wanted to turn it off.

I slowly realized how the movie was shot was what made me uncomfortable. It had weird noises that I don’t like. Along with the visuals being unable to capture my attention. Maybe it was my autism that was acting up but, I couldn’t bring myself to like it. Or want to watch it as I sat there and watched it. When it was almost over, our food finally arrived, and I ate only one piece of each pizza while we watched the end of it. And then we turned on another movie that was sort of messed up like this. ‘Lake Mungo’. It was something that I had wanted to watch when I was younger but I was much too scared to. It wasn’t too scary now that I’m older. But I still enjoyed how good a movie it was. How people were talking about how the daughter had drowned and the stuff that happened before her death. As well as what had happened after her death. It was something that really surprised me while I sat there. John curled up around me to ‘comfort’ me if I had gotten too scared during it.

That didn’t happen.

When it was over, he decided it was time for bed. And I didn’t object to it. I never object to when he wanted to go to bed. All I did was obey him as we brushed our teeth. Soon as he was done, he allowed me some time to myself to put on my pajamas. When I did, I followed him to the bedroom with this strange feeling in my gut. I can’t quite explain what it could be, but it was this feeling of…of elation? I’m not entirely certain of how else I could explain it other than that. Elation. I was feeling lighter than air as I got onto the damned dog bed I was forced to sleep on. The normal disappointment that I feel sleeping on this thing wasn’t present as I watched him move around the room. Turning on his phone’s flashlight before turning off the main light. Using it to guide himself to his bed. Which I find strange is that he was leading himself to his bed with that but, I didn’t point it out while I watched him. Chewing my bottom lip as I couldn’t stop myself from being impatient with waiting for him to fall asleep. It takes forever for him to finally get into his bed and then turn his phone flashlight off. Trying to get himself comfortable before he finally fell asleep in his bed. I hear him snoring not that much later. When I was so sure that I wouldn’t wake him, I carefully got out of the dog bed.

Getting onto my hands and knees before I started crawling across the floor. Trying to avoid making any form of creaking or anything like that. Heart pounding hard against my ribcage as I slowly crawled towards the nightstand. Keeping a careful eye on John’s bed as I crawled towards the spot, I had hidden the keys at. Fearful that he would wake up at any second and catch me in the act of finding the keys. Holding my breath to avoid making less noise. When I was at the nightstand there was this irrational fear that maybe he had already found out about his missing keys. That he knew they were under the nightstand. And when I reach under the piece of furniture for them, he would ‘wake up’ and turns on the lamp. Look down at me and tell me that he was going to call the authorities or something similar. Then I would be euthanized just like I have been fearing for the past few years since the autarch came into power.

My heart pounded hard against my ribs as I carefully moved. Reaching under the nightstand as I stared up at John’s bed. Watching it carefully as I didn’t feel anything as I reached for it. This fearful feeling in my gut as I felt like my fear was going to become a reality. Then the smooth metal was touching my fingertips as I slowly turned to stare at it. A tiny smile came to my face as I quietly allowed myself to let go of the breath I’m holding. Trying to not make too much noise to wake the snoring orderly on the bed. Quietly I dragged them out from under the bed. Doing my best not to allow the thing to jingle as I feared it would wake up John. It makes my heart pound harder as I get it out from under the nightstand. Feeling this odd feeling of joy that I haven’t been able to feel in such a long time. One of the tools that I’m going to be able to use to finally get free. Joanna will be free with me if I’m careful enough. And I’m going to be sure that I am. I turn to crawl towards the door to John’s bedroom. It was shut but I had this feeling I still would be able to escape as the thing’s hinges were well oiled.

I would have to leave it open, but I can forgive this. All I must do is open it without the keys jingling in my hand. There’s also the daunting task of getting to the door without making the keys jingle as well. But this didn’t deter me as I slowly but surely moved towards that large door. The whole time I listened as carefully as I could for John’s snores to stop. For any movement that would suggest he was getting up for any reason. My mouth was dry, and my throat felt like it was tightening as I finally got closer to the bedroom door. Soon as I got near it, I glanced over my shoulder to check if John was asleep still.

A loud snoring from him confirmed that he was, and I smiled a little. I reached up with the hand that didn’t have the key and carefully opened the door. Feeling that I was finally getting some form of luck for once in these whole terrible seven months. That I was finally going to be free of all of it and going anywhere that I could live. Anywhere at all.

I just hope that my luck holds out.