Page 10 of The Wolf

Poppy

––––––––

I'm going fucking crazy. I need my medicine or I'm going to lose my fucking mind.

The nightmare that had haunted me since childhood was getting more vivid than ever before.

It was happening; I was going insane, and it would only get worse.

It wouldn't be long before reality and my imagination were blended so well I wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

Without my medication, there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Schizophrenia is a bitch.

“Breakfast,” Vega said as he closed the door behind him. He put the plate down on the stool and pushed it forward.

I stared at him as I rested on my side on the cot. My hands were tucked under my head, and my knees were pulled up. I didn't say a word. I remained stagnant, silent, and vacant of emotions.

“Seriously? You're just going to lay there like a fucking mute and glare at me like I'm some asshole?”

“You're not like an asshole. You are an asshole.”

“I'm doing you a favor.”

“A favor?”

“Yeah, a favor. I don't have to feed you, but I am. So, fucking eat.”

I was annoyed and rolled away from him as I said, “I'm not hungry.”

He let out an audible breath. I felt him move closer. His figure cast a shadow across the wall I was facing, erasing the visible hairline cracks and small pits. “You might not want to eat, but you have to.”

“Are you going to force it down my throat?” I asked.

“Maybe.”

“Fuck you,” I barked.

“I know what you're doing. You want some form of control. You don't feel like you have any; this is your way to take back what you can. But if you think I'm going to go through all of this just to let you starve yourself to death, you're wrong.”

“I think you have it backward. It's not me that wants control; it's you.” I flipped to my back and pushed up on my elbows. “You're the only one who seems to care if I eat or not. Why? Why does it matter?”

“Eat.”

“I asked you—”

“I heard your question, and my answer is for you to fucking eat. It's been three days since you've had any food.”

“How the hell do you know when I ate last? Have you been stalking me?”

“I know because I was at the same party as you. Remember?” Vega bit his bottom lip and smirked. “I'm only going to say it one more time. Eat.”

“Fuck you.” I veered my stare. “You can't make me do shit.”

“Fine, be stubborn. Looks like we'll do this my way then.” Vega stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

I slapped the plate of food off the stool.

The food tumbled over the floor as the plate shattered into a dozen pieces.

I raked my hands through my hair and down my face.

All I wanted was to go home. There had to be a way out.

I just had to figure out how. I could try to break the window.

Or I could wait by the door, and when Vega came back, I could hit him with the stool and get away.

A jagged piece of ceramic winked at me from the floor. Yes. A weapon.

Vega didn't realize it, but he had left me a gift.

He gave me something to protect myself and he didn't even know it.

I snatched the broken shard and slipped it under the mattress.

A plan was slowly forming in my mind. The next time Vega came into the room, I would be ready.

I would play nice and get him to come close enough so I could stab him in the neck and escape.

I felt a renewed sense of hope. There was a plan, a surprise attack, a chance to break free. The sheer possibility was enough to almost make me smile. Almost.

I sat tapping my fingers nervously against my thighs. My patience was thin. I found myself wishing for Vega to return. Longing to see his face. I hadn't wanted something so badly in my entire life.

The lock clicked open first. My eyes shot to the door, and my heart started racing. The doorknob rotated in slow motion. My heart beat even faster. It pounded like a drum, vibrating against my ribs.

I placed my hand on the edge of the mattress where the shard was. The door opened, and Vega walked in. I didn't move—not yet. It was too soon. Patience would be key. It had to be a surprise. Vega wasn't a small man. He could easily overpower me if I wasn't careful and precise.

He stood in the doorway, his arms hanging at his sides.

Vega's eyes dropped to the floor. “I see you didn't change your mind about eating.

That's too bad.” He leaned against the wood frame, folding his hands in front of his waist. “But you didn't have to throw a tantrum like a child. What a waste of food.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” Vega said with a grin. “We came real close the other day, didn't we?”

“I fucking hate you. Fuck you!” I spit at him.

“Feisty little thing, aren't you?” Vega chuckled and smiled. “But, you're about to lose your edge, Red.”

“My name isn't Red, fuck face.”

“I don't give a shit. All that matters is you eat. You being dead defeats the purpose.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I asked, softly tracing the smooth edge of the makeshift knife under the mattress.

He smiled again as he took a step into the room. Only he wasn't alone. Two more men stood behind him. Their faces were shadowed. They were like two demons rising from the ground. Death walking behind my executioner.

“What is this? Who are they?” I asked, my voice rattling with disdain as my eyes darted between all three men.

“Them?” Vega glanced over his shoulder. “They're here to help me.”

“Help you with what?” My fingers carefully stretched under the edge of the mattress to grip the broken plate.

“Well, you won't eat on your own. So, you leave me no other choice.”

The other two men came to his side. They both had something in their hands, but I was too freaked out to see what it was. All I could do was react. My nerves kicked in full force. I yanked the shard out of its hiding place and jumped to my feet.

Instantly, I felt woozy. I was dehydrated and weak from having nothing to eat or drink. The room spun, and my head pounded with a terrible headache, but I didn't let it stop me. I lunged forward as I screamed, “Get the fuck away from me!”

The jagged edge of the broken plate cut into my palm as I flailed my arm in Vega's direction. I struck him with it, sliding the blade down his cheek. Vega grunted, but he never yelled or cursed in pain. He didn't flinch. He didn't even try to move. He stood there motionless.

Vega grabbed my wrist and twisted it hard, forcing me to drop the shard. His mouth went crooked as he said, “Nice try. Unfortunately, you lost this battle.” He manipulated my body as easily as gum on a hot sidewalk.

My arms were suddenly pinned behind my back, and he was walking me back to the cot. The other two men moved around like bees, shuffling and pushing blurred objects. I tried to fight him. I jerked my body and dug my heels into the floor.

“Fuck you! Let me go! You can't do this, you fucking asshole!”

It was useless. Vega was too strong. He threw me onto the cot.

My arms and legs were strapped down before I had a chance to protect myself.

A belt was put across my stomach and yanked tight, keeping me flat.

I was hot all over, as if the room was on fire and I was sitting in the center of it.

My skin burned. My insides were melting like wax.

I frantically looked around. The two new faces were over me, but they weren't paying any attention to me at all.

One man was wearing small, round glasses that kept sliding down the bridge of his nose when he tilted his head.

He'd shove them back up with a knuckle. His hair was gray, and he wore a long white lab coat like a doctor.

The other man had smooth tan skin, shaggy brown hair, and a similar white coat. They were both wearing blue latex gloves and were handling thin plastic tubes as they talked to each other quietly.

The man with shaggy hair grabbed my arm and held it firmly at the elbow. I felt a sharp pain as the other man stuck a needle under the skin.

“What are you doing? Stop! Let me go!” I screamed. I yelled at the top of my lungs, yet it felt like no one heard me. “No! Don't do this! Let me go!”

The men didn't glance at me. Their eyes didn't shift with concern or empathy. The two men, holding me down and violating my veins, paid as much attention to me as a butcher to the meat they were filleting.

The needle pinched as they taped it down and hooked it up to a machine. A bag full of fluid dangled, dripping slowly into the tube that was now attached. My eyes were wild. I looked at the men, at the ceiling, and to my left and right. I even tried to arch my neck to look behind me.

The two men whispered back and forth. I could hear single words, but they were foreign to me. The words didn't make sense.

“Lidocaine.”

“Lubricant.”

“NG tube.”

The shaggy-haired man passed things to the man with glasses. The man with glasses took the items and set them on a metal tray beside him. The man with glasses looked at me for the first time and said, “Do not move. If you move, I could kill you.”

I looked at him wide-eyed. “Why are you doing this to me?” I asked.

He didn't answer as he inserted the tip of a small bottle into my nose. I tried not to breathe, but I was so afraid I couldn't control my body. My lungs rapidly expanded and collapsed as my nostrils stung with the sweet scent of banana.

“Please. You don't have to do this. Just let me go. My father will give you whatever you want. Name your price.”

“Don't move,” the man demanded as he looked back and nodded at Vega.

Vega stepped around the men and came to stand by my head. “The sooner you learn to follow directions, the easier it will be for you. You're just making things more difficult for yourself. It doesn't have to be this way.”

“Please,” I begged as tears streamed down my cheeks. “I swear to you, my father will give you anything you want. All you have to do is let me go.”

Vega gently brushed the hair from my face with his fingertips as he smiled. “Ignorance isn't a blessing; it's a curse.” He spread his bear-sized palm over my forehead and pushed my head down.

The man with glasses took a small plastic tube and forced it up my nose. It didn't really hurt, but the second it moved from my nasal passages to my throat, I began to gag. My insides bubbled up, pooling in my throat and trying to come out. My eyes watered with tears that were hot as fire.

I blinked, releasing the tears. Vega's eyes connected with mine, and for a split second, I thought I saw a flicker of compassion. It was quick, disappearing the second I blinked again. The tube slid all the way down my esophagus and into my stomach.

“There,” the man said as he taped the tube to my cheek. “We're all done here.” He pulled the gloves off his hands and dropped them on the tray. “I'll be back in a little while to check on her.”

Vega released my forehead, but his hand stayed on my head. He rubbed the side of my temple with his thumb, drawing light circles. “I'll come get you when she's finished.”

“Come get me immediately if you see any blood around her mouth or coming out of her nose,” the man said.

“Of course. I know how this works.”

“You're going to need stitches,” the man responded. “That cut is pretty deep.”

“I'll worry about that later, it's fine for now. Thank you. You can go.”

“I can just grab—”

Vega snarled, “I said go.”

The two men left, leaving us alone. Vega kept rubbing my head. His fingers moved into my hair, massaging my scalp.

“What is happening to me?” I asked.

“I warned you,” he said callously. “But you didn't hear me.”