Hello Monday

Part 14; 8:00 pm

I hug my knees as I curl up in the corner of the room. My eyes are darting all over the room, trying to avoid the man leaning on the workbench soundlessly. It pains me to look at the cause of my heartbreak. He will only be a constant reminder of my foolish and credulous self.

"I'm sorry," Anthony says meekly. I flinch at his sudden apology. It is too soon, too raw. I continue to stare at the wall across me. Taking it as a sign to continue, he blurts, "You told me to do what I think is right, so that's what I did. There's a reason as to why I'm doing all this. I can't tell you what the reason is, but I never meant to hurt you."

His confession makes me stare at him with my mouth wide open, my anger overpowering the hurt I am feeling. "So you know that you hurt me? That's a relief," I make a show of rolling my eyes, "In what world is all this right? If you think, for a second, that what you did was right, why are you saying sorry?"

He thinks for a second before slowly saying, "I know you're not happy with me, but I promise it will all be worth it."

I turn my body to face him, desperately asking him to make up a good reason as to why he did all this. I want him to—at the very least—give me a reason to forgive him. "What will?" I ask, exasperated, "The money? The money will be worth it?"

"Of course not." My face softens all too soon because the next words that come out of his mouth throw all the remaining forgiveness I have for him out the window. "Once this project launches, we will be on the cover of magazines! 'The kids who took a step into the future of medicine,'" he exclaims with a wave of his hands, still having the nerve to laugh.

I stare at him with a blank look, making him gradually stop his obnoxious laughter. "So that's what it was for? Recognition? Power?" I scoff with disbelief.

"I did it to help me. To help you. To help us succeed in the future."

Pain shoots through my shattered heart, "Why try to secure our future like that? You don't think I will succeed in the future by myself?"

He replies slowly, knowing that his answer will affect me greatly, "No, honestly, I don't think so. Without connections, you wouldn't get anywhere. That's why I'm telling you that this will help you." Once again, I stare at him through tear-filled eyes. I do not want to admit that this is the man I fell for. If I do, I might never forgive myself for placing my heart in the hands of a savage.

"I don't even know who you are anymore. Get away from me before I hate you," I say while rubbing my eyes with my hands. In any other normal circumstances, I would not have hesitated to stand up and march up to him just to give him a good slap across the face. Now is not one of those circumstances because having not slept for the past twenty hours exhausts me. On top of that, strange men barge into the school like parasites, feeding off of our brains. If I'm not tired, I would be worried for myself.

I hear him sigh, "Go to sleep, Linette. I'll stay here." I see him walking to the other corner of the room from the corner of my eye. He slides down the wall and settles cross-legged on the floor. I don't say anything and continue to gaze lazily at the wall across me, too weary to think about anything in particular. All my thoughts are jumbled up together.

Dr. Sanders—payphone—canteen—alive—don't—leave me alone—everybody–ARGH!

In the midst of my chaotic mind, one thought that stands out to me is that never in a million years will I let myself be vulnerable when I am in the same room with him. I will not allow myself to sleep, not knowing what else he might do to me. I shiver.

I try my best to keep my eyes open, which is proving to be very difficult; my eyes are heavy with sleep and I want to do nothing but close them and cave in to a much needed rest. There are no windows in the cleanroom, so I cannot tell what time it is now. All I know is that it must be getting very late.

I feel my body tipping forward multiple times, catching myself each time just in time before I fall. Even I can't keep my body from sleeping. Starting to see the pattern of me not allowing my body to fall forward, it decides to drop me sideways. Already very close to dreamland, I am unable to keep my body straight anymore, so I just let myself fall.

I wait, and wait, and wait, and wait with my eyes closed to feel the impact of my arm hitting the ground, but I feel nothing. Instead of the cold, hard tiles I was expecting, I feel warm, soft arms cradling me.

In my state of going in and out of consciousness, I cannot see the owner of the pair of arms holding me away from the ground. I am about to jerk awake before a hand holds my other shoulder, stopping me from forcing myself to stay awake. He slowly pulls me by my shoulders so that my back touches the ground. He sits down against the wall and extends his legs. Placing a hand on the back of my head, he deliberately rests my head on his legs. I squint at him, eyebrows furrowed. Noticing that the light is shining directly onto my face, he leans forward and covers me with his shadow. "Sleep, princess," he whispers above me, "I'm here."

I hear his implicit desire loud and clear: 'trust me.'

"Dr. Sanders?" I mumble, voice thick with sleep.

"She's sleeping," Monday replies with a murmur.

Then I give in to my fatigue, letting my brain finally rest.