Page 92 of Brainwashed

I’m lusting after someone who sees me as an object more than a person. Someone who will never want me.Ever.

I whine out of petulance at the thought.Figures.I’ve always known on some level that I pick the wrong guys. This just verifies it. It’s a well-known thing, after all. You’re not supposed to crush on people who work for you. Or who you work for.Do I work for him, or does he work for me?

Who knows, but either way, it’s not a good idea. Unfortunately for me, though, I’ve never really been able to control myself.Hence the murderings.

Squirming onto my side, I look around the room. I’m literally in his office right now. I still can’t really believe it. Which other prisoner in a place like Alabaster Penitentiary would be left to sleep in a psychiatrist’s office? It seems like the most unlikely thing in the world. I’m sure Velle knows nothing about this. He’d never allow it.

Or maybe he’s just too busy cleaning up my mess to worry about where I’m resting my head.

His words from earlier, after he kicked the shit out of me, spring to mind.

You’re the Warden’s problem now.

I have to gulp just a little. I know Manuel Blanco won’t do anything crazy to me. At least, nothing crazier than he’s already been doing. I’m too important to him.

Still, he’s going to find out I killed O’Malley and set Dash free. In fact, I’m sure Velle has already told him. And I won’t say I’m not the tiniest bit nervous about his reaction.

The Warden is a scary guy. I don’t like interacting with him because he just seems like one of those unpredictable assholes. The type who are untouchable and they know it.He can do whatever he wants in this place. And sure, he loves having me here. And he brought Dr. Love here to do whatever he sees fit with me. But does that mean he’ll just let us get away with what we’ve done?

I guess we’ll find out.

Sitting up, I swing my legs off the couch. Clearly, I won’t be getting any sleep tonight, so I decide to poke around in Dr. Love’s things, because why not? I pick up my glasses where they’re resting on the coffee table and slide them on, wincing at the pain in my eye. I’m sure I’ll have a black eye tomorrow, if I don’t already. Velle’s fists are no joke.

I’ll have to remember that next time I piss him off.

Tiptoeing across the room, my eyes fling to the office door. One of the guards is standing out there, keeping watch. He’s already popped his head inside to check on me twice in the last four hours. I guess that was the condition of me being able to stay in here, though I know nothing of the details because Dr. Love didn’t tell me. I think he probably just wants to keep me away from the scene of my crime. Or maybe to protect me from Velle.

I’m not really sure what’s happening, why I’m in here or when I go back to my regular cell. But I might as well explore while I can. For all I know, they might throw me back in solitary tomorrow.

But until then, I wander over to Dr. Love’s desk. There’s barely anything on it. Just an old landline phone that looks like it’s from the nineties, a stapler, and a pen, all sitting parallel to one another.Something tells me this isn’t a coincidence.Yanking at a couple of drawers, I find them locked. And I don’t have the keys anymore, which has me pouting.

But I shake it off, because Dash clearly needed them more than me.

I wonder briefly if he actually got free. And if he did, where he ended up going. I mean, getting out of the prison is one thing, and probably a pretty easy one from what I’ve heard around the halls upstairs. But we are still on an island in the middle of the ocean. Rumor has it, the waters surrounding Alabaster Isle are pretty dangerous. The guards call the area right off the prison’s shore,Shark Bay. It doesn’t sound like the place you want to be.

I chew on my lip for a moment, thinking about Dash. I’m sure he made it somehow. If not, they’ll catch him. And then he’ll probablywishhe was eaten by a shark.

It seems tame compared to the things they could do to him in here.

Shaking it off, I tug on another desk drawer, which happens to be open. Peering inside, my eyes light up at the sight of a few items for me to play with. I pluck out a metal water bottle and read the side. It says John’s Hopkins, with some kind of crest which I assume is for that university. That must be where Dr. Love went to school.

I put it back and go for a notebook. I recognize it as the one he’s always scribbling notes into during our sessions. Flipping it open to the first page, I find a dated entry. I’m guessing it was one of our first sessions, since I’m not sure of the exact date. Johansson usually says it out loud when he begins his experiments on me, like he’s being recorded from somewhere in the exam rooms.

He must be…The whole place is probably bugged.

An itching thought sticks in my mind… Of that last time. When Templeton made me come against my will. I wonder who’s seen that footage…

The Warden… Dr. Love.

I gulp, sinking down onto the floor with the notebook in my hands. Leaning up against Dr. Love’s desk, my eyes scan the written words. His handwriting is neat; pristine penmanship, which doesn’t surprise me at all. Even when he’s scribbling, he’s organized.

The words on the page read:

#

Possession. He speaks about human beings, his lovers, as if they’re his belongings. Things he wants to keep, and preserve. And I can’t tell if he does it because he craves their affection, or if it’s just a means to an end.

I wonder if he would kill them eventually, anyway.