Jasper led on Lila's bed as she played pretend with the same tea party set with the same re-appropriated box from before.
New pretend chairs were set up with two plastic bowls turned upside down. One held up a wooden spoon, leaning on the table, decorated by long, pink string hair and plastic eyes stuck on the front, the other a plastic cup, also turned upside down, with drawn on eyes and a giant, happy smile.
It was an uncomfortably wide smile too, reaching all across the front and side, curved upwards and without any hitch or wobble in the stroke. The eyes were perfectly round too, as if traced onto the cup, looking too perfect and happy, in the cold silence of the room.
The plastic cutlery rattled and gave cheap clicks as Lila herself, sitting on an upturned metal bowl instead of plastic, said metal bowl sitting slightly shorter than the plastic bowls, but still keeping her taller than the spoon and cup.
"Why aren't you mad at me?"Lila peeked out from before the door the next day, at 8:00 PM the next morning. Her face was half hidden in shadows, the first sight of her that Jasper had seen since the day prior.Jasper shifted his neck towards the door, his dull silver eyes turning towards her. He could barely move, his muscles creaking and aching with the moment. Lila's mother had arrived to feed him and move his muscles through exercises to prevent muscle atrophy.She had a sinister smile throughout the whole process, and Jasper could see where Lila had learned her own hollow expression, but something was hidden behind her mother's smile. Whenever she looked down at him, Jasper had the distinct idea that she wasn't seeing him, but somebody else's face had superceeded his own and was inhabiting the space designated for his, in her mind.Her movements were maechanical and her hands were cold, flinching
"Lila. There are a few things, that I need you to know. I can... I understand you. I can't get mad at you. Because, if I did, it would mean that I'm- that... that I've, no. If I get angry at you, it only means that I understand nothing. I've learned nothing. That I've spent my entire life, not learnt anything about myself, or the world around me," Jasper stuttered out in the loudest and most confident voice he was able to manage, trying to ignore all the places where he wheezed, choked, and wobbled, while watching Lila slip into the room, softly shutting the door behind her and shuffling towards him.Her head faced downwards, some of her hair falling to obscure her face. She wore another frilly dress with another white shirt underneath, and Jasper had to concede that he knew nothing about her as an individual, her image twisted with her mother's.He didn't know if she liked books. If she liked tea parties. If she liked frilly dresses. Or why she liked them. If she was
By the sun was sinking under the horizon, many tears had been shed. The two, small, wounded people on the bed had now found themselves in companiable silence, with the occasional sniffles, softly breaking through the silence, which eventually asserted itself again.They breathed hard together, both of them, matching each other with the count of five, only differing with the heaviness of their gasps for air.At every beginning of a small, quiet period, there was a tiny uprise in tears, further soaking the pink blanket, dying it crimson for the afternoon and evening.Jasper felt lighter, as if something had been lifted from his chest, and is if he could finally force his legs into a weak twitch, following the instructions of his brain for the first time in forever, and crane his neck whichever way he could, the only part of him not shattered. His hand was the warmest part of him, clutched by Lila, as she held onto him, pulling at his skin and hoping.Prayin
The loud, chopping wind thrust itself at the window, the noise smashing through the glass, regardless, and alerting everyone in the building of the noise. There was an inescapable screeching noise accompanying it, bouncing off all the walls, and finding its way into Emmet's office, the grating sound of metal scraping against metal wearing him down and breaking through his defenses.It burrowed its way into his ears, he felt it pierce his heart, slashing the organ down to fall to the bottom of chest.The only thing louder than the wind, which sliced through the blades of the helicopter ruthlessly, was the blood rushing through his ears.Emmet wanted to hope that nothing was making sense.Why was command here?Their next scheduled visit was weeks away.There was no prior notification.He had to move Jasper to somewhere safe.
Emmet laid on the office floor, curled over into a ball, cradling his broken hand to his chest, with the paper sheet with the copy of Doctor Johnstone's email resting on his head.The door slammed shut behind Doctor Johnstone, and the room almost felt heavier without her guiding presence, her strict and stern face whenever there was adversity, and her ability to project solidarity, even where there was none.It was only something small that broke in Emmet's chest, lamenting for what he had said to her, how he had treated her over the years.He had just offered to give her his job, like one of those predatory managers that only ever showed up in the news whenever something horrible had happened. He had behaved like one of those.Aunt Minnie would be completely ashamed of him. If she ever found out, she would grab him by the hair, and drag him over a desk with it, as he had seen her do to somebody befo
Emmet eventually picked himself up off the floor and, with a sad smile, opened the door to let himself out of the lab that he had sequestered himself in. He let Doctor Johnstone's message flutter to the ground and he left it behind, closing the door on it as he entered the corridor outside, where the light wasHe determinedly walked towards the front entrance of the facility, towards his fate, keeping his eyes firmly forward, and refusing to look elsewhere to keep himself from distractions. He let his broken hand fall limply by his side, swinging forwards and backwards as he walked, trying to project a false sense of whimsy.There was no reason for him to be interrupted by anyone, a day off from work for most people to sleep in. Doctor Johnstone probably went back to her own room, which she shared with Alice, the two as thick as thieves.Emmet found that the usual small pang of jealousy and resentment towards her was no
It felt as if Emmet were holding a lead bar in the palm of his hand, instead of a simple rechargeable battery. It was just about big enough to fit, but he knew that the device, if rather large for the time, was still strong enough to power the room for years, despite its age and multiple uses; it was too effective to bother upgrading.Emmet held the weight close to his chest, in his non broken hand, as the man opened the door to the supply cupboard, casting light onto the cloth which hid the time machine under it, storing it and keeping it safe.The agent simply pulled the door open as if it were made of a single sheet of paper. It only took him a single hand and he moved as if it wasn't even an issue to him, as if it were any other door in the facility, and not made of multiple layers of heavy steel, designed to be deliberately difficult to open, even without power as a deterrent and needing multiple people to be present.
The agent wasn't breathing.Emmet was sure of it now.He decided to sporadically hold his breath, picking a random number in his ever continuing count to reach, before breathing once more, before repeating the process, after picking another random number.There was no sound in the room other than his own breaths and heartbeat.There was no rustle of clothing from the other side of the room and the agent. There was no scuffing of shoes like before. And there was no breathing.It was almost as if he was completely alone here, left in the dark in a soundproof room, baited inside and then unbeknownst abandoned.A panicky fog began to descend on Emmet's mind, and his legs shook, struggling to keep him standing, as the darkness from all sides began to press down. He didn't know anymore whether his eyes were open or closed, and he suppressed the choke of fear that w