Flytrap | WATTYS 2022 SHORTLIST

15 | Garden

Well, today was the day. Today would be the day Barbara was, hopefully, released from this hellhole and back into an even bigger one. Unlike most prisoners awaiting their release, she couldn't even look forward to the sight of a blue sky or the fresh scent of the crisp autumn air. No, what she had to look forward to was the sight of perpetual smog and black clouds and the fresh scent of exhaust mixed with sewage.

From the side of her, the door creaked open, letting in a shaft of bright light into the room. "Barbara, are you ready to go?" Dr. Crane called from the crack in the door.

Barbara shifted herself to the edge of the mattress. "Yes."

As soon as the words left her mouth, the door was yanked backward and a bulky silhouette stepped inside. Already familiar with how this went, and wanting to get the hell out of here, Barbara allowed herself to be lifted into the wheelchair and strapped in by the orderly she had come to know as Frank. Up ahead, Dr. Crane waited in the doorway, tapping his foot against the tile as if he were in a hurry. Or maybe-and more likely-he was in a hurry to get her out of there.

"So that's it? You're just releasing me?" Barbara tilted her head up at his looming figure. "I was deemed fit to re-enter society?"

Though his face was half-hidden in the shadows, Barbara could make out the grimace etched across his mouth. "Yes," he hissed. "There's no need to keep you here any longer."

"Well, doctor." Barbara folded her arms over her chest with a smirk. "I can't say it's been a pleasure."

Dr. Crane narrowed his eyes, making a grunting noise in his throat as she was wheeled past him.

It took every ounce of willpower not to turn around and match his stare when she felt it burning holes into the back of her skull. Times like these made her wish she was less mature and could do something crazy like throwing him the finger. But no, she was a mature adult woman. No matter how much she didn't feel like one.

As the elevator doors started to close, Barbara caught a glimpse of the doctor standing in the hallway, watching her. Though his eyes were completely obscured from the reflection of the light above, she knew from behind that eerie glow he was studying her every move.

God, what a creep.

Thankfully, the doors closed and that was the last she ever saw of Dr. Crane. Good riddance.

When the doors finally opened again, James was waiting for her just a few feet ahead in the lobby. Too absorbed with the clock on the wall, he didn't even notice her until one of her tires squealed, drawing his attention. "Barbara!" he cried as soon as he saw her.

"Hey, Dad." Barbara tried not to stare at his haggard appearance. She had seen her dad on some pretty rough days before, some of which included a fistfight or two. But not even all those cuts and bruises could compare to how he looked now with his sunken face and deep black circles coloring the wrinkled skin around his eyes.

"Oh, honey." He rushed to her side and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so sorry. I wanted to come sooner, but then this shootout happened. And whatever time I did have free was dedicated to interrogations and paperwork. It's chaos. Everyone's overworked and I'm understaffed. The department's never been this swamped before," he finished with a heavy sigh.

"Yeah, I get it. Work always comes first, right?" Okay, that might've been a little harsh. With her dad looking like he was running on nothing but caffeine and two hours of sleep, the last thing he needed right now was an attitude from her. "But you're here now, and that's what matters." She gave him a tired smile, taking in the lingering smell of cigarettes clinging to his jacket as she returned his hug.