Chapter 37: Thirty Five - Break

Break

October:

When I woke up, an unknown amount of time later, I found myself blinking against the harsh brightness of the white ceiling above me. Groaning, I tried to use my hands to shield my eyes, only to find that I couldn’t.

My hands and feet had been strapped down to the sides of the bed, disenabling me from moving. Mortified, I struggled against my binding. The buckles strained against the metal restraining bars at the sides of the cot I was resting on. It was useless. The only movement I was capable of was lifting my head and my hips off the bed.

Huffing in frustration, I dropped heavily back onto the cot, and looked around as much as I could. This wasn’t the same room I’d been locked in this morning. It was exactly the same size, but the structure was a tad different. There was a water pipe attached to the wall next to the cot, something that the previous room hadn’t had. There were grubby hand prints across the wall next to the pipe, as if whoever who’d inhabited it last had been trying desperately to get out, willing the walls to cave beneath their touch.

A shiver crept up my spine, caused both by the sight of the hand-prints and the arrival of the voices.

“I like the buckles.” He sniggered tauntingly. “They make good accessories.”

I made no reply. I couldn’t. I’d completely drained myself before, when I had been screaming in Larkson’s office, and whatever energy I’d regained during my drug induced slumber had been lost during my futile struggle against my bindings.

“What? No snappy comeback? No ‘leave me alone’?” he asked, amusedly. I tried to say no, but the only sound that came out was a scratchy, unintelligible sound, like two rough surfaces, rubbing against each other . I blinked weakly up at the ceiling. “Have you finally lost your tongue?”

I ignored the boy’s words. True as they might have been, they stung; they reminded me of a sad fact that I had to come to terms with – the voices had beaten me. They’d officially ruined any chance I had of having a normal life. They’d broken me in that office, they’d proved that they were, indeed, stronger than I ever was. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to recover from that.

“Hmm. I guess you have.” He said, after I didn’t answer. “At least you finally know what you are now. Useless and weak. You can’t even hold your own to protect your own sanity. You deserve to be locked up. Life is wasted on you.”

I felt a few hot tears trickle down my cheeks as the room began to return to its normal temperature. The boy was done with me. For now.

For a long while after the boy had left me, I mulled over his words. I hated to even think it, but what if he was right? What if life was wasted on me? I’d watched people I care about die right in front of my eyes, and still couldn’t appreciate the life I was blessed with. Sure, I had to live my life being constantly tormented by three malevolent voices that did everything in their power to drive me to insanity, but I was still alive, wasn’t I? I’d survived when others hadn’t.

I blinked away the last of my tears. I had no more left to cry. The boy was right. Life was wasted on me.

I began to wonder what life in a padded cell would be like – because that was, undoubtedly, where I was going to end up. If Dr. Larkson was willing to throw Parish into a high security mental facility just because he’d punched a nurse while trying to help me, who knew what she’d do to me after the fit I’d thrown in her office? And if the mental breakdown wasn’t bad enough, I’d gone and attacked her on top of it. If I didn’t wind up in a strait jacket sometime soon, it’d be a miracle.

Sighing heavily, I closed my eyes and tried desperately not to worry about what was going to happen to me. Was I ever going to see my friends again? My parents? Kara? Sid? Would I see Parish? Or would I be sent to a different institute than him?

…And Darren? I didn’t know what was going on with him, but, I think I would like to see him again. Would I get to?

A loud thump against the door interrupted my thoughts. I twisted my head as much as I could to stare unblinkingly at the door. No more sounds came from the other side.

Wow. Was I really going insane now?

I was just about to resign to the belief that I really was going out of my mind, when I heard another thump. Louder this time. Worried, I summoned up some hidden morsels of energy and struggled against my restraints.

“Is anyone there?” I called, my words scraped painfully against my vocal chords, and despite the amount of force I’d put into them, they came out as nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

Another thump.

I twisted and turned, feeling the leather belts that bound my arms to the cot start to cut into my skin. Soon, my strength began to give out, and I slumped back down onto the bed, breathing hard. When the next thump sounded, I was barely capable of lifting my head up.

I felt drained, like I hadn’t eaten for days. I couldn’t do anything except blink up at that ceiling. That white, white ceiling. Why was it so white? It hurt my eyes… Maybe I needed to sleep. Yes. Sleep. If I slept, then I wouldn’t need to look at that ceiling, would I? I wouldn’t need to see all that whiteness.

I closed my eyes. Yes, that felt better. No more white. The darkness was good. It soothed my eyes. I heard a slight jingling noise, like keys in a lock, but I paid no attention to it. It was just the voices trying to make me go crazy again. I wasn’t going to fall for it again. No, no. Not this time.

I ignored the sound.

A second later, I heard the soft groaning of old wood, like someone had opened the door.

Very funny, I thought, hoping the voices would hear. I’m not falling for it.

“October?” A familiar voice whispered my name. Softly. Gently. Like he was talking to a sleeping child.

“Go away Parish.” I mumbled. My throat still hurt. Terribly so. “They’re trying to make me go crazy again.”

“October, no. Wake up.” I felt a soft tap on my shoulder. “I’m really here.” The pressure on my shoulder disappeared. I heard a soft clink just before the tightness around my wrists lessened. Hah. The voices wanted me to think that Parish was undoing the buckles. “October, I need you to wake up now. We have to go.”

I shook my head. “No. I have to stay.”

Another clink and my right foot was freed. “You can’t stay. They’re going to lock you up too.”

I smiled. “I’m already locked up.”

Clink. Clink. The buckles around my right hand and my right foot came undone. “No,” Parish’s voice argued as two firm hands grasped my shoulders. “They’re going to send you to St. Elizabeth’s.”

“Oh.” My eyes started to flutter open. I couldn’t tell whether it was because of what he’d said, or the way he was holding my shoulders. It felt urgent. “but it’s for the best, Parish.” My eyes opened and I could almost make out his face through the initial blurriness. I could see his light hair and the color of his skin swimming in the disrupted puddle of colors that hit me as soon as I opened my eyes. “I’m a waste of life. I deserve to be locked up.”

The words tasted bitter. They didn’t sound like they were mine.

“Listen to me.” Parish let go of my shoulders and instead grasped the sides of my face gently; holding my face so that he could see into my eyes. “You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, and you’re most definitely not a waste of life. October, you’re not hallucinating. The voices aren’t doing this. I’m here. I’m real. And I’m telling you that we need to go. Now.”

His words were like a bucket of ice cold water on my head. They shocked my brain, waking it up; they brought me crashing to reality with a hard-packed slam. My eyes flew open and I finally saw Parish clearly, brown eyes silently begging me to believe him. Pleading with me to wake up from the stupor I was in and listen to him. His hold on me was desperate, urgent.

He was real.

“Okay.” I nodded firmly, regaining my strength and composure.

Noticing the look of awareness that must have crept into my features, he smiled. It  was a relieved, thankful smile. “You need to change first.”

“What?”

He let go of my face and bent down to pick up a bag. “We’re getting the hell out of here. We’re going to do it as quietly as possible, but sooner or later, Larkson’s going to realize we’re gone.” He unzipped the bag and reached into it. “And when she does, the whole state’s going to be on the look-out for us. Which means,” He pulled out a bundle of material and tossed it to me. “you’ll need to change into these.”

I caught the bundle deftly. Apparently the adrenaline that was pumping through me was already at work. Looking down, I realized that Parish had tossed me a pile of my own clothes to change into.

Oh.

Because Larkson would inform authorities of what we’d been wearing when she last saw us. Changing clothes would help us slip past a few people.

When he saw that I understood, Parish continued. “I’ll stand guard outside. Be quick.”

I had my shirt off the second he closed the door behind him.

I emerged from the room about a minute later, clad in blue jeans and a simple black t-shirt. Inconspicuous clothing.

Apparently I wasn’t the only one who read spy novels.

“What’s the plan?” I asked, fully alert now, as I stuffed my old clothes into the bag Parish handed me. I tried not to concern myself with the unconscious nurse he immediately began dragging into the room I’d just vacated.

So that’s what the thumping sounds had been.

“We’re going to try and sneak out of the Institute. Larkson left a couple of minutes ago, but the coast should be clear now.” He closed the door and locked it, and then started for the door that led out of the solitary wing. “Kara and Sid are keeping lookout just in case.”

I halted in my tracks. “Kara and Sid?” I asked, baffled. “They’re in on this.”

Parish nodded. “The two of them and Darren. It was his suggestion, actually.”

“Darren suggested that we break out of the institute?” I spluttered incredulously. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.” Parish’s face took on an expression I couldn’t identify. “I’m not. He even gave us—” The sound of approaching footsteps made Parish cut his words short. Acting quickly, he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me around the corner into an unlit corridor. We stayed there, crouched in the darkness, completely motionless; hardly even daring to breathe.

“Parish?” A boy’s voice called from within the darkness. I felt the color return to my face. It was Sid.

Standing up, Parish stepped out of the corridor and walked over to meet Sid. I followed quietly. “What’s wrong?” Parish asked in hushed tones.

Sid shook his head worriedly. “We have a problem.”

“What is it?” I could hear the subtle note of panic that rang through Parish’s words.

“Larkson’s here.”

“What?” Parish and I replied simultaneously. I glanced at him, concerned at the fact that his expression mirrored mine. He looked just as terrified as I felt. “I saw her leave!” He hissed, unwilling to believe Sid’s report.

“I know. She must have left forgotten something of hers here.” Sid volunteered, scratching his ear. I recognized the action as something he did when he was nervous or worried. I thought he’d grown out of it. “Kara and I were in the kitchen when her car pulled up the driveway.”

“Where’s Kara now?” I asked, worried for my friend.

“She’s fine.” Sid answered, hearing the question beneath the one I’d asked. “She’s downstairs, keeping watch on our floor. She’ll make a noise to distract Larkson if she happens to try to venture up here.”

“Okay, great.” Parish ran a hand through his hair. “Larkson’s in her office now?”

“Last time we checked, yeah.” Sid nodded. Seeing the thoughtful look on Parish’s face, he added. “You got a plan?”

“Yes. But it doesn’t involve the two of you.” He said, referring to Sid and Kara.

Sid looked stunned. “Look man I—” He started to argue, but Parish cut him off.

“Sid, listen to me. I appreciate everything you’ve done, but if you and Kara want to help us, then you’ll have to listen to me and go back to your rooms and stay there. If the two of you get caught helping us, then we’re all screwed.” When Sid looked at me for help, I simply nodded. Parish was right, we couldn’t involve them anymore. “Go back to your room and stay there. If you hear commotion, act natural. Distract Larson by coming out to investigate. Whatever you do, play dumb. I don’t care if you have to openly curse my name to anyone who’ll listen, but you need to make sure people believe that you had no part in this. Make them believe it, got it?”

“Fine. I’ll go.” Sid nodded somberly before turning to me. Realizing that this was probably the last time I was going to see him, I rushed forward and enveloped him in a tight hug. It wasn’t the first time I’d hugged him and I hoped to God it wasn’t going to be the last. “It’s going to be okay, October.” He murmured softly.

I nodded. “I’m going to miss you, Sid.”

“I’m going to miss you too.” He squeezed me a little tighter. “Look after yourself okay?” I nodded and mumbled a soft ‘I will’. “And make sure this idiot doesn’t get into any trouble.”

“I promise.” I half-cried, half-chuckled against his neck.

Sid gave me one more squeeze before we broke apart. He turned to Parish next, and they did that weird half-hug thing that all boys do. “You’d better look after her man.” Sid warned Parish in a voice that he thought I couldn’t hear. “We love her and we’ll kill you if anything happens to her.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Parish mumbled back, equally soft. From the look he gave me over Sid’s shoulder, I assumed that he knew I could hear their exchange.

“And,” Sid added as the two of them separated. “look after yourself, too. Once this whole thing clears up, we’re meeting up so that I can kick your ass at Halo.”

Parish chuckled. “You’re on.”

Our goodbyes all done, Parish stepped away from Sid and came over to stand beside me.  Placing a hand on my shoulder, he sighed. “We’d better get going.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, turning and walking with him to the staircase. I was about to take my first step downstairs when I remembered something. “Sid?” I whispered, turning around.

“Yeah?”

I paused. I wanted to ask him if tell Kara goodbye for me, just in case I didn’t get a chance to do it myself – but I couldn’t find the words to. It was too hard. I’d never had a proper friend until I met Kara. She was my best friend in the whole world, bi-polar episodes notwithstanding. I couldn’t tell her goodbye. It hurt too much.

Luckily for me, I didn’t have to put my thoughts into words. Sid understood what I was struggling to say by the pained expression on my face. “I’ll tell her.” He promised with a grim smile.

Smiling my thanks, I followed Parish down the stairs, trying desperately hard to fight the tears.

We walked down the stairs in silence that church mice would envy, not stopping until we were safely on the ground floor. Hopping off the final step lightly, I turned to Parish with an eyebrow raised in question.

Kitchen or front door?

After a quick second’s deliberation, Parish jerked his head to the left, indicating the kitchen. Nodding, I followed his lead and tip-toed into the dark, spacious room. I was thankful for the fact that Patty had a tendency to forget to draw the kitchen curtains. It allowed for a thick beam of moonlight to spill into the room, illuminating the kitchen well enough that Parish and I were able to navigate through the room without colliding into tables or counters and alerting anyone of our presence.

After a minute of quiet walking, Parish and I found ourselves standing in front of the closed back door, staring at the bronze knob that, once turned, would lead us to freedom.

He glanced at me, dark eyes questioning. I shut my eyes for a second and, when I opened them, he must have seen the decision in my eyes – he turned the knob and opened the door.

That’s when the sirens piped up and our hopes of sneaking out unnoticed went soaring out the window.

From all over the ground floor, the wails of the alarm system rang loudly, waking up everyone in the entire mansion. The noise was deafening to my ears; it was the sound of defeat.

When the hell had the institute gotten an alarm system?

“Crap!” I exclaimed as, over the blaring of the alarm, the sound of running footsteps met my ears.

Frantic, Parish pressed a palm against my spine and pushed me out the door. I stumbled slightly, but soon regained my balance and started sprinting across the lawn, Parish following close at my heels.

“Stop them!” A shrill voice pierced through the night. Turning, I saw an immensely pissed off Dr. Larkson shoving Javier, a male nurse, through the door. In front of Javier, Brent raced after me and Parish, his expression furious.

“Faster!” Parish huffed, grabbing my hand and tugging me forward. I picked up speed, sprinting across the asphalt basketball area as fast as my legs would take me. The sounds of following footsteps grew louder behind me, and I willed myself to run faster.

Faster.

Faster.

My legs were just beginning to give out on me when the parapet came into sight. “We need to hop over.” Parish panted, almost tripping over a small divot in the ground. I clutched at his hand, steadying him as we kept running.

“I don’t think I’ll make it.” I wheezed, shaking my head.

“I’ll help you.”

I didn’t argue. I couldn’t waste my breath like that.

When we reached the wall a second later, Parish bent down and held his palms out to give me a leg up. I stepped onto his braced hands and hauled myself up onto the wall. Below me, Parish straightened up and leaped, grabbing the top of the wall effortlessly.

“Go. Go.” He urged, helping me as I tried to get one leg over the wall.

I’d gotten one leg over onto the other side, when Parish let out a startled cry. Looking over the wall in alarm, I saw that Brent had finally caught up to us and had managed to grab a hold of Parish’s leg.

“Parish!” I cried, reaching for his shirt to pull him up.

“What are you waiting for?” he hissed at me angrily, slipping down the wall a little as Brent continued to pull. “Go!”

“I’m not leaving you.” I said defiantly, grabbing his arms and pulling him as much as I could. It was useless, he was too heavy, I was too weak and Brent’s tugging made it impossible to get him high enough to sit up on the wall with me.

Wait, I had an idea.

“Hold on tight.” I told Parish, just before leaping off the wall and falling in a messy heap on top of Brent’s body.

We came crashing to the ground with a sharp slam, me on top of his shoulders. Slightly disoriented, I looked up to see Parish sitting securely on top of the wall, holding an urgent arm out for me to grab.

The unexpectedness of my action had caused Brent to let go of Parish’s leg before our fall could drag him down with us.

Thank heavens my luck worked sometimes.

“Get them!” I turned around to see Javier closing in on me and hurriedly reached for Parish’s hand. Grunting slightly, he pulled me up onto the wall with him and then we lifted our other legs over to the other side; the side of freedom.

Behind us, Javier was trying to climb up the wall. Thankfully, he was neither as tall or a lithe as Parish had been, and needed a leg up to reach the top. Bracing ourselves, Parish and I leaped off the wall together.

The jarring impact of my body meeting the grassy ground sent shocks through my body, but thankfully, I’d bent my knees the right way so I hadn’t broken anything.

“You okay?” Parish asked, straightening up from his own jump.

“Yes.”

“Good. ‘Cause we need to start running again.”

Nodding, I took off a second behind him, making straight for the woods that covered the unoccupied land that Kara and I saw everyday from our bedroom window. When we reached the tree-line, I paused and turned around.

Looking up, I was able to see the window of the bedroom I shared with Kara. I felt a twinge of bitter happiness when I noticed two figures staring back down at me and Parish.

Kara and Sid.

Smiling through the unbidden tears, I waved goodbye at them.

In the bright light of the moon, I saw Kara mouth three words to me, a victorious smirk plastered on her face. “See you soon.”

I nodded, smirking right back.

And then I turned and followed Parish into the woods, sprinting as if our lives depended on it.

Which actually, when you thought about it, they did.

*END OF BOOK ONE*