The Deal.
Ryan
She's changed recently, becoming more active. It was unusual to see her this way. I've watched over her for years, and something is different.
"Good morning Sarah," I said as she walked by abruptly, shoving an end table out of her way. She didn't offer her usual good morning back, just a simple backhanded wave. I stood there instead, taken back. I had enjoyed our morning debates which typically started with my simple good morning and then her rattling off something she didn't like about the world. The hallway seemed darker now, although it was filled with warm morning sunlight oozing through the sheer drapery. Shrugging off my feeling of dismay, I turned and headed back to my office.
My desk was horrific. It had been like this for the past two weeks. Paperwork, random pens, bent manila folders, a half-eaten candy car, and two cups of days-old coffee covered the once beautiful mahogany. I'm sure it's still beautiful, just hiding. I cleared the right corner with my elbow setting down my new cup of coffee and unopened candy bar. It was quiet in my office, which was typical when I kept the door shut. The silence was consuming today, causing my mind to wonder more about Sarah. She had looked the same but felt different. My phone buzzed, bringing me back to the present.
Dinner tonight, 6? I read, sighing. I didn't want to go to dinner, but she was cute and had been nagging me for some time. She didn't even wait till lunchtime; it was only 8:30 this morning.
Sure, Jess, I typed back, hesitating to hit the send button. Forcing my finger to do the deed, I leaned back into my chair, thinking about Sarah again. Buzz, Buzz. I looked down to see an immediate reply from Jessica. Perfect, I can't wait :). I sighed again, tossing my phone amongst the clutter and spinning my sturdy leather chair to face the window. I watched as visitors entered the building. There were never many this early, so I let my eyes follow the lone squirrel rustling around the giant oak tree leaves that partially blocked my view.
A knock came at the door, causing me to look at my watch. 10:30, I questioned. Had I been staring into oblivion undisturbed for that long?
"Come in," I shouted.
"Hi, Dr. Mickens. Room 109's family would like to see you. Are you available? It's rather urgent with everything that has happened."
No, I thought. I'm not available because I don't want to be, but I looked at my secretary Janet's innocent face, lifted my eyes to meet hers, smiled softly while running my fingers through my hair, and said a soft, "sure." She reciprocated, smiling widely as I walked toward her.
"Ah, give me one moment. I need to grab the chart," I said.
"No problem, I'll let them know you'll be there shortly... doctor," she said, emphasizing the word doctor with a sultry tone as she closed the door.
"Wait, what happened?" I got out just as my door clicked shut. Humph. Figuring it must've been nothing that serious since I hadn't been disturbed, I'd returned to my desk mess, searching for room 109's chart.
"Ryan," I heard, turning around and seeing Dr. Paul standing in the doorway, "we have a problem."
I furrowed my brow and waved him in, "what kind of problem?" I said.
His expression was filled with anxiety as he closed the door behind him. I guess room 109 will have to wait.
Sarah
When the light began to fill my room, I had already been awake. It felt good to be ahead of the day because I typically never was. I used to be an earlier riser, but fatigue set in around thirty and never went away. I watched the shadows dancing on the ceiling, moving as the sun progressed.
I huffed, turning to look at my closet door. It was essential to pick the right outfit for today. It had to be perfect, but these bedsheets felt so good. I couldn't help myself. I pulled them up tighter to my chin. The outfit needed to fit my mood, but instead of physically rummaging through my closet, I stayed put and ran through what I could recall.
"Sarah..." I heard followed by a soft knock, "breakfast."
Startled, I looked at the time, "okay," I said eagerly, hopping up. I must've nodded off while mind shopping. My closet in real life was in total disarray. The mind shopping had been way better. What forty-year-old keeps a closet like this? I couldn't believe I was forty. Sighing in frustration, I quickly started panning through shirts. Now, not caring, I just grabbed one without even looking at it. The mirror caught my attention on the way out, and I decided to glance at myself. Today was the day. I couldn't believe it had finally arrived. He said 9:45 and I would be ready.
I headed out to the main building without acknowledging anyone. I wasn't starving, but I needed to go. My walk was quiet. It was warm outside but with a nice breeze. The walkway had distracted me a few times, and I couldn't help but stop and stare at a few pebbles in my path. They looked iridescent, and I questioned if he had left them for me. Before entering Manor Hall, I bent down to grab one unique greenish-blue pebble. It made me smile.
"Hi Sarah," I looked to my left to see Carly waving. She was always so lovely. She was sitting alone in one of the hang-out zones filled with wooden benches and mats. She skipped breakfast often. It irritated the staff, but they finally gave up on that battle. I smiled and waved back. "See you later," she shouted. I shrugged. I knew I wouldn't see her later, but that was to stay a secret until it was not. I pushed the heavy door open into the main hall, and I spotted Ryan right away at the far end, or Dr. Mickens, I should say. The guy was a total creep. I rolled my eyes and scanned the rest of the hall, looking for a way to avoid him like I attempted every morning. There was no diversion, and I needed to keep things as normal as possible, so I trudged on.
"Good morning Sarah," he said. Yuck, his voice even sounded toxic. I never understood the appeal he had to women. Almost all of them melt at the sight of him. Some of the female residents have told me stories. I don't understand how he still holds a job here. Well, unfortunately, I can't say I'm surprised. The males around here seem to get whatever they want. No questions asked. He's constantly showing up in my space, and I can't stand him.
I pushed a table out of the way to avoid him, not making eye contact, and threw him a backhanded wave. Sometimes he follows me when I do that, but today he did not. Thank God. I would've completely ignored him, but I've done that before, and it never ends well.
The mess hall was loud and busy. The breakfast line moves reasonably fast, so the commotion never bothered me. I've witnessed some significant meltdowns from others, though. It was usually newcomers, still adjusting.
"Sarah!"
"Hi Tony," I said.
"The usual?"
"Yes, please," I watched as Tony filled my tray with hash browns, half a grapefruit, and a hot dog. I loved hot dogs for breakfast, and this place pretty much offered whatever you wanted as long as you were in the hall during the allotted eating time. I think it was to help avoid the major meltdowns. Tony gave me a pleasant nod as he handed me my tray back. As I exited the line, I saw Tyler waving me over. He was sitting on his own as he usually did.
"Morning, Sarah!" He said.
"Good morning Tyler. How are you?" I said, setting my tray down across from him.
"Eh, days have been better."
"Still hearing them?" I said.
He nodded while jamming a meatball into his mouth, "how bout you?" He said through the meat crumbles. I leaned into the table, and he mirrored my movements, interested.
"What's going on?" He said.
I smiled, "you're going through with it. Aren't you?" He said. I shrugged. "Sarah, are you sure it's a good idea? I told you what Dr. Mickens says to me. He says you don't listen to the voices. They're lying."
Frustrated, I pushed back into my chair and said, "well, Dr. Mickens is a creep, and he's not my doctor."
"Okay, okay, I worry about you. You know?" He smirked while leaning in more, taking another large bite of meatball, "what's the plan?"
I knew I wasn't supposed to say anything, but it was Tyler. His light blonde hair had gotten longer, falling just past his ears. I hadn't paid attention. "Your hair is longer?" I said.
He pursed his lips and nodded, "so, you're giving me nothing?"
"9:45," I whispered. He smiled widely, wiping the meat specks from the side of his mouth.
"Whatever it is, I'm in. Add me. You know? Whenever you can," he said, picking up his banana and beginning to peel it.
"I promise," I said, swiping my finger along his banana holding hand.
The lights above us started flashing. They only allowed about an hour for breakfast, and I was late. I wasn't hungry anyway. Tyler popped up, walked to my side of the table, and leaned down, his lips touching my ear, "tick-tock my friend," he said, standing back up tall and heading out of the hall. I smirked, standing up shortly after and followed, throwing my tray out and glancing up at the clock, 8:55.
Group therapy started at 10, which always gave me about an hour after breakfast of free time. I knew I would be out of here by 9:50, so I decided to head into the artist's hall. It eased my mind to look at other people's interpretations of the world. It helped me feel less different. I pushed through the doors and turned left to the display wall. I paused at the first drawing. It was a sketch of a dark city skyline that felt overtaken by demons. The blurs of smeared pencil sent small shutters through me. The artist had placed them well.
"Sarah," I heard. I turned around to see Stewart or Dr. Paul, I should say. I didn't mind Dr. Paul. He was friendly, and I think he truly wanted to help people. I smiled at him, not saying anything.
"How are you today?" He said.
"Good," I said in return, keeping my answers short.
He nodded, "you sure? You seem... different."
"Yes," I said, "I'm sure, but thank you for asking Dr. Paul."
"You know you can call me Stewart."
"Thanks, Stew," I said, watching him cringe at the nickname. I knew Dr. Monroe consistently used it. I'm not sure why I felt the need to use it, but I did. I guess I was interested to see if he'd correct me. I had newfound confidence knowing that I would be leaving soon. He gave me a half-smile and headed in the opposite direction, causing me to feel bad, but then I remembered he's part of why I'm still stuck here.
I continued to walk down the hall, judging each painting, drawing, and some sculptures. As I reached the end, I glanced up at the clock, 9:40. I smiled and headed back outside. This time, I quickly shuffled down the pathway ignoring the pebbles making my way to a particular oak tree. It was hard to miss being ancient and unique. Luckily, no one was out and about because the time was too close to group meetings. You were never to be late to any session, or there were repercussions.
I walked around to the back of the tree that faced away from the main path. My breath was lost in a gasp. He was here. This was real. Although I trusted my judgment, I did question the reality of it.
"Sarah," he whispered in a low voice, "are you sure this is what you want?"
This was happening fast. I felt like I was still looking at artwork, but he was far from that, more like a dream. Without hesitating, I nodded yes. Anything was better than here. The power wasn't even my interest, more so the ability to escape.
"Remember the deal," he said, reaching for my hand. I nodded rapidly, embracing his cold, stiff limb. His eyes sparked an amber glow, and they were the only thing I could focus on.
"Deal," he said, clasping my hand hard and pulling me so close that my vision blurred. He smelled of ash and death, but I didn't care. This place had been gradually killing me—this prison of minds. I squeezed my eyes tightly closed, and my breathing increased. I became nervous as I felt a power flush run through my veins.
"It feels good, doesn't it?" He whispered. My chest bowed, and my shoulder blades touched in bliss as my face focused on the blue sky above. Tears ran down my face as I hit the ground hard, causing my knees to hum.
"Sarah, are you okay?"
My focus came back to see one of the medical assistants hovering over me and that he had vanished. Then suddenly I knew everything about this girl. Her whole life, the way she smelled, DNA makeup, everything. I knew exactly what to say. I stood up and gently took her arm, leaning into her, whispering just what I needed to. She dropped into me, sliding to the ground in tears, unable to look up at me. I knew she was hurting now, but I chose my words wisely. She would be fine. Better I get through her this way than the alternative.
At peace, I walked towards the main gate to the campus, ignoring the world around me but knowing every movement to come. I was no longer worried. I had no sadness or anger. I knew I was finally free. I could hear my name being shouted repeatedly, but time had frozen for me and had become effortless. Who was I kidding? Time meant nothing now. I smiled as I placed my hand on the electronic fingerprint lock posted on the side of the gate. I winced at it not opening just for a brief moment, but sure enough, it popped.
The parking lot was pretty bare, but I did notice one car. Ryan's black 1950s Mercedes convertible. He's mentioned that car to me several times. Jerk. The roof was down, of course. So, instead of opening the door, I hopped over it, coolly sliding down into the seat, pausing. I realized I hadn't driven a car in almost fifteen years. Ahh, I thought, who cares? Car wasn't mine, right? Plus, the knowledge was there, and I knew everything now. That was something I still had to adjust to. I taped my finger to the ignition, and my body shook as the car came to life. Placing my foot on the pedal, I pushed with full force, revving the engine uncontrollably. Whoopsie, my brain rattled when I recognized I was still in park. The excitement had still clouded my judgment a bit.
Gently, I caressed the joystick, "joystick, that's what it's called, isn't it?" I whispered out loud. I chuckled briefly, glancing back at the emerging mob heading towards me. Yanking the stick around, I pulled the car away from the brick wall and swiftly pushed the stick forward into drive. A distinct crackled laugh left my throat as I grasped the extent of what was happening right now. I took one more look at the crowd before racing away down the tree-lined alley.
Ryan
Looking at Stewart, I was beginning to question the magnitude of what happened, "stew, you're making me nervous here. What's going on?"
"Well, Ry, Sarah's gone," Stewart said, lowering his head.
"What do you mean gone?" I said.
Stewart stood up, showing one finger to me, signaling to wait, and walked to my office door. He said, cracking it open, "come on in," to whoever had been waiting.
"Who is this?" I said sternly, taking in the meek blonde-haired woman in white scrubs with grass stains on her knees.
"You can sit here," Stewart said, pointing to one of the leather chairs in front of my desk. "This is Jennifer. She was the last one to talk with Sarah before she escaped. Jennifer mentioned that Sarah said some things to her that there was no way she could have known."
"Escaped?" I shouted, hitting my desk, causing Jennifer to jump and my leftover coffee cups to rattle.
Stewart sucked in his teeth, "well, yes, and there's something else, Ryan."
"What?" I said softly.
"It's your car," Stewart said, tilting his head, "she sort of drove off in it."
The End.