Between the Lives - By Jessica Shirvington Page 0,28
to hurt him than free myself and then glared at my mother.
‘I should’ve just done it!’
No one missed the meaning. It even surprised me.
‘Would you get on with it!’ my father snapped at the woman. To me he simply said, ‘You’ll thank us for this one day.’
The woman moved towards me. Some of the earlier hate in her eyes had gone and was replaced by something much worse. Sympathy. It got my back up.
‘Don’t feel left out,’ I sneered at her. ‘I promise to give your face the same makeover as his.’ I glanced at her colleague who was still dabbing at the blood coming from his nose.
Her eyes narrowed, her compassion quickly dissolving. The needle went into my arm and in seconds everything began to blur.
It was a bitter realisation: the confirmation that for all these years, living my lives in secret and solitude, I’d been right not to trust them with the truth. But that wasn’t the only thought that catapulted into my mind as consciousness began to fade.
What have I done?
The last plea that fell from my lips was heavy and slurred. ‘Don’t … tell … Maddie.’
CHAPTER TEN
Roxbury, Sunday
My eyes felt glued together. At first I thought I must have Shifted, but then I managed to haul my eyes open. And along with the memories the room slowly came into focus.
I was still in my Roxbury life. Lying on a bed in a room that’s only light came from the small fluorescent bulb fitted to the high ceiling. Apart from the bed and nightstand, there was an empty doorless cupboard, a well-worn armchair, a small barred window – which told me it was dark outside – and a door, closed and no doubt locked. Not that it mattered anyway. My wrists, even over the top of my cast, and ankles were restrained in sets of leather bindings.
And as if that wasn’t bad enough … they’d taken my watch.
I wanted to be sick. I barely had room to move. If I threw up now, it’d go all over me.
I swallowed repeatedly, trying to force my stomach to settle. It didn’t help and when my eyes glanced at the window again, I almost lost it.
Shit.
What time was it?
I couldn’t go through the Shift restrained like this. The thought of it increased my panic until I was on the verge of screaming.
How could they have done this to me?
There was no clock. No way to know what time it was. I could Shift at any moment. I wasn’t even sure where I was.
I yanked my arms, testing the restraints. Yeah, not a chance.
I considered calling out, desperate enough to plead for the bathroom or something, anything, to free myself. But before I’d opened my mouth I heard footsteps. One set first, then another.
I wriggled around as much as I could and realised that under the blanket I wasn’t in my normal clothes. I was in a hospital gown. For some reason that tipped me over the edge and hot tears started pouring down my face. For someone constantly striving to remain in control, the idea that other people had been controlling me – my movements, clothing – felt like a total violation.
This just couldn’t be happening.
My breakdown threatened to get vocal, but I kept my mouth shut and gritted my teeth against the sobs. Then I heard talking outside my room.
‘One new admission in there. Everything fairly standard and on the charts.’
‘Sounds easy enough,’ said a slightly familiar voice.
‘Careful with her. They have her on SW until further notice. She’ll be due for meds in the next hour which should hold her under for the night. Doc’s already dosed it out and left it at the front desk.’
The other guy paused before he asked, ‘He wants her kept under all night?’
I didn’t hear an answer.
The other guy spoke again. ‘Okay, then. She do that to you?’
‘She’s stronger than she looks.’
A chuckle. ‘What about the restraints?’
‘Doc says she won’t be going anywhere after her next meds, so you can undo them if you want. Your call.’ He said it in a way that suggested if it were his, he wouldn’t be.
‘Okay, Mitch. See you tomorrow.’
Mitch was obviously the guy who’d come to my house. The one I’d kicked in the face. Can’t say I was feeling anything that resembled remorse.
There was a slapping sound, like some annoying ‘dude’ handshake.
‘Don’t know how you do it, man. Working nights like you do. It doesn’t seem right,’ Mitch said.