Chapter One
a erin f/hannah e production.go yankees! apparently.
…Hello?
Can you hear me?
Talk to me.
It's too quiet in here. The walls eat the sound, the cloth deadens everything. I can't even hear myself breathe. I wouldn't mind if I could hear you…but you're not there. I can't even feel you, and that's wrong. I can always feel you, in my head. I need to talk to you, we need a plan, anything, to get us out of here. We don't belong in here, we have to get out.
So talk to me.
…Please?
…Are you there? Things are getting worse. I don't know if it's because I can't hear you or if it's something to do with all these injections and pills, but I'm starting to…forget things. It's all slipping, like sand running through my fingers. There's little holes growing where my thoughts should be.
That's not good, is it? That's not good at all. And the worst thing is…
…though I know I should be hearing you…
…I can't remember who you are.
Seven times xuV multiplied by a ratio of xp8 to the power of 9…quantify x and remove the…
Quantify x?
What is 'x'?
Start again. Seven times xuV multiplied by this makes no sense and I know, I know, that it should. Perhaps I should try something simpler for the time being. I have to keep going over this, in case I forget. I'll have to come back to that one later, that's all.
So..seven times x minus nine times y is equal to three times x plus…
…wait, that's wrong already.
Start again. Seven…
…seven…eight…nine…
Nine…
I…I could have sworn…that I used to be able to count to more than…one-after-nine.
It's you, isn't it? It's you not being here. I need you to think straight. I can feel everything's still there…all the knowledge…I just can't get to it. It's all locked away…
One…two…three…
Eight…
Eight's important.
I just wish I knew why.
I think I know who you are. You're something to do with these metal things, aren't you? These things that look like spines, one…two…three…four white spines with the ends all tied up to the wall where I can't reach. But the other ends…
…I think they go into me.
Is that what you are? If it is, then I think I know why I can't hear you. You're gagged, aren't you? Gagged and tied up…tied up like me.
I'm not gagged, though. They let me scream as loud as I want.
That must mean…that they think you're crazier than I am. Or maybe they think you're a bad influence, and that's why they don't want you talking to me.
I thought at first that you can't have been very strong, if all that it takes to tie you up is a few little bands of white metal and some straps on the walls. But then I thought, well, look at me, nothing but cloth and chemicals holding me here and I can't even lift my arms.
I'm getting worse, with the forgetting, I'm sure of it. I lose more thoughts with every injection. If this continues much longer, I may start talking to me and believing it's you.
Hell…
Hell is other people…
No. Hell is no people at all. No people, no voices. Nothing but me in this room with soft white cloth walls that eat the sound so I can't even hear my own breathing. Hell is hour after hour after hour of nothing but white and silence and white and silence and white and…
…Hell is…
…Hell…
…Hello?
Can you hear me? It's all right, you can talk to me now. They're not watching, and they wouldn't understand if they were. They don't understand that I can talk to you without speaking, that you can talk to me without sound. I remember now, that's our power, we can talk and they won't hear.
So talk to me. We need to work out how to get out of here. I remember that there is an out of here, there's a world out there that's more than white and silence and white and…
…and I'm stuck and I can't move and I can't hear you and I can't do anything…no it's not true I'm not making this up, you are here and you did talk, you did talk you did talk you did talk you did…
Did you?
Did…you…
…I was…talking to…
…me.
I was talking to me.
What was I saying?
…it wasn't important.