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“Now, put on your gloves and this white cardigan. You’re ready to go.” She shoved the items at me and looked at the time. “You have three minutes before you’re late.”
Peeling the gloves and cardigan on, I stood and walked toward the door. I felt ridiculous in this outfit and wig. What were the cages?
Bradley’s eyes widened as soon as I walked through the door. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he let his eyes linger on my new hair.
“I know… it’s awful.” I dropped my eyes to the floor.
“No, it’s not. It’s just… not you,” he mumbled and started to walk before he stopped and turned to me. “This is cage number one. Remember, Demi, don’t talk, don’t engage, don’t look at her. Just clean the space and leave. Do not make a single sound.”
“Okay.” I nodded as he waved his card in front of the door.
“Go ahead.” I pushed my cart that had these strangely large wheels that were layered in some kind of foam-like material so no sound came from it.
As soon as I walked in, I slammed my eyes shut.
It was blinding.
Bright, white, and frigid. The floors, the walls, everything in the room was a stark white.
My breathing was so fast that I swore I was about to have a full-blown panic attack. The room was one thing, but the woman chained to the bed in the corner had me on the verge of shattering. I felt a hand slap over my mouth and an arm wrap around my waist, pulling me right back out of the room. When the door shut slowly, I opened my eyes and looked up. “You would have ruined it!” Dr. Ivory looked at me with fury searing through his eyes.
“There’s a… a girl chained to the bed.” My body shook as I looked for Bradley, but he wasn’t there. Where was he? I needed to leave. I needed to run, now.
“You foolish girl. I don’t know why they had to have you. I really don’t. But you better shut your mouth and clean that room or else you’ll be chained to the bed. This is my experiment; my medical experiment. I’m helping these girls, and you are going to wreck everything I have worked so hard for.” Dr. Ivory dropped his hand to my neck and tightened his grip. “Do you want to be in the cage, Demi?”
“No, please, no,” I whimpered as I instinctively reached my hands to his and tried to pry it off, but his hold only grew stronger.
“Then go in the room and clean it. I don’t want to see a speck of dust, and if I do, I’ll put you in a cage. Understand?”
“Yes,” I whimpered as he loosened his grasp.
“Go,” he whispered with his eyes squinted. A simple gesture and word that made me shut down completely and do as I was told—a survival mechanism, and one I was completely used to doing.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
I walked in and stopped as soon as the door shut behind me. A small camera in the corner of the room was how Dr. Ivory had seen me. The girl in the bed had a thick blindfold on and large headphones over her ears.
What is this…?
I took the mop out of the bucket and began to slowly swipe it across the floor. My eyes were aching from the brightness of it all, and how the walls and floors blended together was disorienting.
I felt numb. What kind of medical experiment was he allegedly running? I mopped until every single spot of the white tile floor shined, then grabbed the small wipe and started to clean every surface, terrified Dr. Ivory would see a speck of dust and strangle me.
The girl didn’t move; she probably didn’t even know I was in here. I wanted to peel the blindfold off her eyes as badly as I wanted to tear the headphones off her ears. The wig on my head started to itch, and I felt like the stale air was suffocating me completely.
How was I supposed to clean her bed? The sheets looked fine, but I didn’t know if I was supposed to get closer and clean around her.
The door began to open slowly, and I quickly moved away.
Bradley walked in, carrying a tray of food—simple white rice and a small cup of plain yogurt. After Bradley set it down, he pointed to the door and nodded, placing his finger on his lips, signaling me to stay quiet. Pulling the headphones and blindfold off the woman, he handed her the tray. She looked at him, but he didn’t make eye contact. Then she lifted her eyes and looked at me. Hopefulness filled her otherwise hollow eyes, and parting her lips, I swore she was about to shout for me to help her, but she didn’t.
Instead, she smiled at me.
Just like the girl we saw through the glass in Dr. Ivory’s office.
If they were being tortured, why would they smile? Why wouldn’t they bang, bash, scream, and cry for help whenever they saw a new girl in the same space as them?
