Untouched

34. Unknown

Two days have passed since Ben told me I'm going to be a part of the research. I think two days have passed.

I never know when it's day or night. There are no windows to see the outside, no bell to signal hours. The bright light remains on at all times, so I judge time by how many meals I've been fed. Six so far.

Sitting on the bed, I watch my blood being stolen from me through a long clear tube and fed into a machine. Apparently, inside the machine, my blood is being separated into various layers; the desired one containing white blood cells is filtered out while the rest is returned to my system through another tube.

I want to reject the liquid flowing back into me, the unwanted layers, the waste. Ben assured me the fluid was important, and I believe him. I doubt they would return it to me otherwise.

The injection Ben gave me two days ago was a fake hormone, to stimulate the production of white blood cells. I don't know why they need my white blood cells. Ben said it's for a research trial. He likes to talk when we're alone. I remain unresponsive, but he seems oblivious to my lack of input and continues to explain some of the science behind what they're doing to me. The more he talks the more nervous I get because I'm realising this isn't a short research project which will end in days.

The door in the wall opens, and Ben walks in. 'We're going to detach the machine now and give you some more injections.'

My eyes narrow and I press my lips together. The door remains open and several white-coated figures stand there, which explains why he didn't greet me with his usual Hey Kit, how are you feeling?  I hate it when he asks me that.

I hate him. I hate Techies. No, that's a lie. I hate all of them except one.

Ben is always less friendly when the others are watching, and on the one occasion, when Louisa made an appearance in the doorway, Ben didn't say one word to me.

Ben removes the two tubes from my arm and turns off the machine. He gestures at his white-coated minions on the other side of the door, and two of them enter the room. One drags the machine out of the room while the other places a tray of syringes on the bedside table then leaves.

Ben sits on the edge of the bed. 'Arm please, Kit.'

No. I don't move my arm. Not only am I refusing to talk to him, but I'm also refusing to cooperate. He needs to realise I don't want to be here, I don't want to be part of this.

He sighs. 'You're going to be injected with several substances over the next few days. You may experience some flu-like symptoms-'

A cough interrupts, and he glances over his shoulder. I follow his gaze to see Louisa standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and a scowl etched into her face. 'Is there a problem?'

'I was ensuring Kit was aware of what to expect. The more we can limit the stressors placed on her, the better our results. Don't you think?' Ben says flatly.

Louisa waves her hand, which I assume is an indication to continue what he's doing. Ben nods, turns to face me and doesn't say another word. I close my eyes when he punctures my skin with the syringe and injects whatever Techie substance they've devised.

Who knows what the real purpose of this trial is? My life is now in their unfeeling hands, and I don't have much hope for my outcome which made my decision about what I'm going to do next very easy in the end.

I'm going to escape. I'd rather die alone and free than trapped in here, poked and prodded to death in a tiny windowless box.