The walk back to my room was probably the most taxing thing I'd ever done. My limbs were like lead, my eyes wouldn't stay open. I had to pause every few steps just to catch my breath and lean against the wall. I scraped at the dismal remains of my energy like a woman starved. I just had to get back to my room. I'd done it a thousand times before without fail.
This time, it was different. This time, my tiredness was so tangible that it blurred my vision and clawed at my insides. A sovereign force that demanded I bent to its will no matter how much I fought against it. And I was oh, so close to doing as demanded.
The hallway stretched infinitely ahead of me. Like a cruel being composed of tile that seemed to grow longer as I forced myself further into its depths.
I could almost laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Life was one endless, insufferable joke, and it seemed as though I was the punchline. That was the only possible explanation I could come up with. Either that, or some omnipotent being really got a kick out of fucking me over.
My mind swirled around in a whirlpool of self-hatred, bitter anger, and exhaustion. Why did everything have to be so utterly impossible? I couldn't recall the last time a problem of mine didn't require a multi-step solution.
My gaze briefly dipped to the tattoo on my wrist. The familiar, ever-present tug of hopelessness pulled at the back of my mind. Usually, I could ignore it. At that moment, though, all I wanted to do was fall to my knees and sleep. Did I really have to walk all the way to my room? What difference would it make?
No.
No, I had to make it back to my room. I needed my pills and I needed to figure out where that tape was.
The story I'd been fed about my arrival was clearly a lie. Looking back, the details had always been a little dubious. My hesitancy was only fueled by the fact that no one was allowed to talk to me about it aside from Papa. My worries had only been confirmed.
The seizure was real, of course. I'd seen it with my own two eyes. However, it was far too coincidental that I suffered a random seizure only after being kidnapped and transported to the lab. What were the chances? Very, very little-- of that, I was sure. Someone had certainly done something to cause it. I just had no idea who or what, and so I needed the tape. I also needed to find out what Peter had to do with it all.
Why did everything always trace back to him?
I shook the thought from my head as I arrived at the cold metal door of my room. If it were any other day, I would hate walking in there. I'd hate the silence that greeted me and the stillness of the room, forever frozen in its bleached, lifeless mediocrity. Today, I welcomed it.
On my walk back, I had decided I was beyond the point of worrying about silly dreams. Come what may, I was exhausted, and absolutely refused to stay up worrying about what this all meant. All I could do was hold my breath and hope to be blessed with a simple, pointless dream. Truthfully, I was too tired to care either way.
Gloria wouldn't be coming around with sleeping pills for some time. It was only, what, midday? Maybe on the later side, but still, far too early to sleep. Luckily, I'd been stockpiling all of my pills underneath the mattress.
I closed the door behind me. The room went completely black, aside from the small sliver of light that crept beneath the doorway. I stumbled through the darkness until I was kneeling next to my bed, scraping my knees on the tile in the process. A slew of curses left my lips.
I suppose storing the excess pills underneath my bed wasn't the brightest idea. Most of them would likely be crushed by now. At that point, I'd be willing to snort them so long as it gave me some respite.
YOU ARE READING
Nonconformity | Henry Creel
Fanfiction"You're dreaming, I should think," His breath caressed my skin. It was there and then gone, far too fleeting. "So why am I here, Sixteen?" I didn't have an answer. "I don't know," I muttered. My heart thumped noisily in my chest. I could not think...
