The Compound (Ongoing)

Chapter Six

"Well now that that's covered, let's begin shall we?" Dr. Thomas gestures to the room behind him, moving on from the subject as if we were discussing the weather.

I can't move. I look down at my hands in horror, watching as they shake uncontrollably, and wonder how they could've possibly ended someone's life. My mother's life.

Sheila makes a noise in the back of her throat, like a mixture of disgust and disbelief before walking away as quickly as possible with her limp.

I wonder if it's me or Dr. Thomas that she's disgusted with. I would assume me. But if I really did what the doctor said, then why was Sheila so nice to me today?

"Well?" He says impatiently, obviously annoyed by the fact that I'm having trouble dealing with the news that I'm a murderer. Of my own mother.

Oh my God. Oh my God. How does someone even deal with something like this?

I continue staring at Dr. Thomas, mouth gaping open. He makes a disgruntled noise and walks into the room that I assume is his office.

He sits behind the desk with a huff.

"Come on Ashley. I don't have all day. You're not my only patient, you know."

I stumble into the room, looking around at the quiet elegance of it all. Plush leather chairs, a large oak desk that looks antique. And a well-suited Dr. Thomas.

The only things out of place are his annoyed face and my messy tears.

Falling into one of the chairs across from him, I meet his gaze, only to burst out into a fresh wave of tears. Just looking at him plays back what he said.

"H..how?" I stutter, my voice scratchy.

He simply raises an eyebrow, and I try to force the next words out.

They are words that should never be put together in the same sentence.

"How," I swallow, trying my best to clear my throat of tears. "How did I kill my mo..mother?"

I bite my lip as soon as the words are out, amazed that I was even able to think them, let alone speak them.

"You cut her throat." He says simply as if this is all something he goes through on a daily basis. For all I know about this place, maybe he does. "Now can we move on Ashley? We have very important things to discuss, and we only have an hour."

I stop myself from gasping in horror at the thought of an entire hour with this man. I slowly nod my head, hoping that the time will go by faster if I just play by his rules.

"Good. First things first." He clears his throat, lacing his long fingers together and placing them on his desk. He leans forward, black eyes staring unforgivingly at me.

"I need to know everything you remember. Absolutely everything."

"I told you, I don't remember anything." I try to make my voice stronger. I need to move past my emotions and focus on right now. I can break down later when I'm alone in the cell called my room.

"Really. Surely you remember something. After all, you know enough to have an intelligent conversation with me." He smirks at me, "Well, as an intelligent as a conversation with you can be."

My eyebrows push together as my eyes grow wide. Did he really just insult my intelligence? I may not remember who I am, but I know I'm not stupid. Somehow this birdlike man keeps finding new ways to piss me off and kill me all at the same time.

"I'm not sure if your trying to insult me, but yes. I know enough to function. It just seems I've forgotten everything personal about me." I struggle to find a way to explain what I'm going through. He's the best shot I have at figuring out what happened to me, as much as I hate to admit it.

"Care to elaborate?" He gestures his hand in a rolling motion, signaling for me to continue on.

"It's just that there's nothing there when I think about me. I don't know my name, my past, nothing. I can't remember anyone I might've known, even my parents. And I sure as hell don't remember this place. The most I know is the stuff from that movie and what I've experienced since I woke up this morning."

"About that," he points a bony finger at me, "when did you wake up? What happened when you first woke up?"

I think back to this morning, although I wouldn't really consider it morning with how dark it had been. God, it feels like an eternity since I woke up in that unknown bed, that unknown room.

This unknown life.

"I had a bad dream. It woke me up sometime during the night. It wasn't really morning yet. Then I just laid there until the lights came on and my door opened."

While we've been talking my hands had been fidgeting with the fabric of my pants and that of the chair. I begin yanking when I find a stray string binding the leather, happy to ruin at least a little peice of this monsters office.

Besides, the fidgeting, while showing how nervous I am, is the only thing keeping me sane right now.

"What was the dream about?" Dr. Thomas' deep voice suddenly sounds different. I'm not sure what it is, but a new emotion is there.

Almost like he's unsure, or even scared, about what my answer will be.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I don't remember. I just know it was a bad dream because I'd jumped awake and was crying." I say with snarl, annoyed with him for asking and myself for not knowing. No matter what the dream had been, it seems important for some reason. Not knowing doesn't help me in any way.

I expected him to seem upset about this, because after all it's less information for him. But instead Dr. Thomas looks almost...relieved? Like if I had known, it would've been a bad thing for him.

Now I really wish I could remember.

"Well, that's..." I watch, intrigued, as he tries to hide the grin that belies his words, "unfortunate."

He suddenly stands from his desk and walks to the door.

"Thank you, Ashley. You can return to your room now." He clicks a button on the wall and the metal door slides open.

I watch him from my seat, confused. He said we had a lot to discuss, did he not? And yet, as soon as he found out I know nothing, he's done.

Damn. If I could just remember what happened, I could figure out what I knew that was so important to him.

Slowly, I push myself from the chair. I wearily walk towards the doorway, sure he's going to change his mind. There's no way I got lucky and only had to spend less than ten minutes with the creep.

He smiles and gestures to the hall, like he's excited for me to go.

Not wanting him to change his mind, I rush past him, eager to escape.

I stop when I'm halfway down the hall and look back to see his tall frame standing in his doorway.

A huge smile on his face.