A Dark World (old-please see new book)

52 Trauma Therapy

"Wakey wakey~"

Crip jolts, sitting up quickly. Jacob is in his cell, on his bed.

Jacob: "It's Friday!"

What does that mean?

Crip: "W-what?"

Jacob: "Ah! That's right, you don't know what that means."
Jacob starts to giggle.
Jacob: "It's trauma therapy day!"

Crip: "Trauma therapy?"
He asks, and Jacob chuckles some more.
Jacob: "You'll find out soon enough~"

He pops up to his feet, heading for the door.
Jacob: "You'd better come eat. They like us to stay healthy in here."
He leaves, and Crip soon follows, heading into the dining hall and eating.

Then the alarm goes off and everyone heads back to their cells.

One by one Crip can hear the cell doors open and close later on. What were they doing?

He curiously sits, that is, until he hears someone start screaming. It sounds like a woman, fighting the guards. They were forcing her to go somewhere, out of her cell. She obviously didn't want to go.

Soon it was his turn. They opened his door, and two guards stepped in, holding his arms, escorting him out, and down the hall. They take him to a room with a chair in it. At least the chair looked comfortable.

That's what he thought, but as he sat in it, the guards started strapping him down. His arms were bound, and his ankles were bound as well.

"Now, Mr. Wilson. Do you remember how you acquired that injuring on your ankle?"
A doctor says. She has dark skin, and a serious face.

Crip nods.

"This machine will teach you to overcome any trauma you've experienced, by forcing you to relive the moments. It forces your brain to recall traumatizing events, and you will confront the trauma repeatedly until it no longer frightens you. If you fight against the guards upon coming here, you will be brought in by force, as this is apart of your mental healing."

What the actual fuck was she talking about?
A guard pulls something down off the top of the chair. It looks like a helmet of sorts. They strap the machine over his eyes, and everything's quiet. Suddenly he's back in time. He can hear Red, and see all the others, hurting him, and somehow he can feel every single bit of this pain, even though it isn't real.

Crip: "Gya-no! Please-"

He pulls his arms, trying to move away from the machine. He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.

Crip: "Stop it!"
He screamed, forcibly reliving the gang rape. It hurt, every single time they entered him and fucked him. It hurt.
Finally after what felt like hours, Red picked up the pipe and started beating him, causing Crip to release a painful cry and pull at the straps binding his arms down.

It hurt so bad.