Mental (Slow updates)

Chapter 9

After six hours in the room, Katrina was restless. Once the shaking brought on by the drug had dissipated, she had remained curled up in a ball silently cursing the doctor. She had then twisted to get comfortable and after a few unsuccessful attempts, resorted to lying on her back. Hoping to pass the time quickly she tried to sleep. Unfortunately sleep eluded her as the irritating beep of the heart monitor refused to let her rest.

Katrina groaned and sat up, finally deciding that she was not going to get any sleep. She swung her legs off the side of the bed and stood up. She went to walk forward only to find herself stopped by a pull on her chest and left wrist. Her eyes flicked to where she felt the pull on her wrist, irritated to see it bound to the bed with a set of handcuffs. Pulling against the handcuffs her heart sunk as she found out they were not there for decoration. Giving up on trying to free her hand, she sat back down on the bed. She looked down at her chest to find the source of the tug she had felt when she stood up. Snaking into her chest were wires that she guessed, from what she knew from hospital dramas on tv, were monitoring her vitals. Her fingers twitched as she thought about disconnecting the wires to stop the incisive beeping of the heart monitor. Although she decided against it. If tv hospital dramas were accurate then disconnecting the wires would only cause an annoying high pitched whine, and the doctors would come running. As much as Katrina hated being here alone, she would rather stay that way than have the doctors' company. The thought of doctors caused her mind to drift back to the doctor's questions earlier. What had happened to her, and why was the doctor interested in it? Her mind brewed over the fact.

Katrina was so deeply consumed by the questions of her mind that she jumped when she heard someone enter the room. Her eyes rose to meet the new figure. Fear coursed through her veins as she realised it was the man from earlier, the one who had given the doctor the syringe. She watched the man warily as he approached her. Shrinking back the closer he got. "Don't come any closer," Katrina said, her throat dry. The man stopped and raised his hands in a gesture of what looked like peace. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to frighten you. I'm a doctor, you can trust me," he spoke softly.
Katrina snorted, "In my experience, doctors are last people you should ever trust." The man cringed at her words, before gazing at her with pity in his eyes. He took a step closer, Katrina felt the wall at her back. Like a caged animal, she snarled. The man paused again "I promise I won't hurt you, I only want to help you. What is your name?" He gently asked.
"Is this some sort of sick test? You know what my name is, to you it's Thirty-six," Katrina spat.
"That's not what I meant. What is your name, your real true name?" The man asked again.
Warily Katrina responded quietly, "Katrina, Katrina Williams."
"Katrina. What a beautiful name. My name is Dr Alan Herons, but you can call me Doc," Doc said as he smiled at her. Katrina frowned.
"Aren't I meant to call you Master?" She asked, spitting out the last word as though it was poison.
"Only when the others are around, but while we're alone you can call me Doc if you like," he explained. Katrina nodded still not completely believing him. "Now Katrina, I'm going to come stand by your bed, are you fine with that?" Doc asked. Katrina stared at him, deciding what she should do. Hesitantly, she gave a small nod. Doc approached her bed. "See that wasn't that bad, as I said, you can trust me," he said.
"Trust has to be earned," Katrina countered. Doc laughed and nodded in agreement. She relaxed, slightly and a small smile appeared on her face. He pulled an empty syringe out of his pocket. The colour drained from Katrina's face and she felt as though she would throw up. He looked at her confusion etched on his face, then looked at the syringe in his hand. "Are you afraid of needles, Katrina?" He queried. Katrina nodded, her eyes not leaving the syringe. "Look at me Katrina, please look at me," he commanded. Katrina reluctantly raised her eyes to meet his. Doc's eyes were stern but kind. "There's no need to be afraid of this syringe, okay? I won't hurt you. All you'll feel is a small prick and then it will be all over. I just want to take a little sample of your blood to make sure you are alright after all you've been through. I'm not going to take any unless you are okay with me doing so. I'm asking for your permission, do I have it?" Doc said gently. Katrina gazed at the syringe and then at Doc. She swallowed and nodded. The sickness in her stomach grew. "I'm gonna be sick," Katrina moaned, grasping her stomach. Doc reached into his coat and pulled out a sick bag from an airplane. He handed the bag to Katrina. She grabbed the bag and threw up into it. Doc pulled her hair back from her face and rubbed her back. Feeling better, Katrina sat back up and took a few deep breaths. She handed the bag back to Doc. As he placed it on the floor he asked if she was alright. She nodded. He asked her if she was still okay with him taking a blood sample. Once again, she nodded. "Alright Katrina, let's do this properly. Can I get you to lie down?" Doc asked. Katrina nodded, shimmied herself to the centre of the bed and lay down. "Turn your right arm around so that the crook of your arm is facing out." Katrina complied. Doc grabbed her arm gently. "Good girl. Now I'm going to count to three and then put the needle in, okay?" Doc calmly said. Katrina nodded and closed her eyes tight. "One," Doc began. Katrina felt a small prick in her arm, then a sensation like a giant mosquito was feeding on her. Her eyes opened in surprise and she looked at her arm. Her blood filled the syringe. Once the syringe was full, it was removed from her arm and replaced with a cotton ball taped to her arm. "See that wasn't that bad," Doc said smiling. Katrina shifted as in to sit up. Strong hands lightly stopped her from sitting up. "Stay down Katrina, you might feel a bit woozy for a few seconds. Besides you need to get some sleep, you look really tired," Doc said, concerned.
"I can't sleep, the beeping is keeping me awake," Katrina mumbled back. Doc narrowed his eyes at the accused heart monitor, before pulling out a tablet and tapping the screen. Instantly the monitor fell silent. "Now please get some sleep, Katrina," Doc sighed. Katrina shut her eyes. "Good girl. Goodnight Katrina," Doc whispered. She heard his footsteps recede and the door open. Katrina lay in the silence and eventually drifted off to sleep.