My wishes were not granted, because I lived, waking up the next day or night in a haze. Time was still a concept to me and I was unsure of everything and everyone, well anyone that I had access to seeing.
Time is progressing so slowly and so quickly at the same time. I can still remember the first day I was thrown in this cell, but yet there is still so much that is missing from my memories. It was as if specific parts of my memories were being altered so I could remember what was necessary to this. Maybe it was from constantly being asleep, which made retaining the moments that I was awake that much more challenging.
As I sat up, I tried to think, to write, to document, but I found that these once easy tasks were now becoming more and more challenging. Who would've thought that I had to be locked inside of a room for weeks on end to reminisce on what I had all along considered to be a good life.
I have wanted to be a doctor for as long as I can remember, dressed in my little white coat every opportunity I got, fake medicine kit in hand, trying to tend to my dad's injuries. I bet he never thought that his darling daughter as he so affectionately called me, would become a 'patient' to this extent.
My musings and thoughts were interrupted by a chiming on the wall. No clocks, no bells, no instruments, but chiming nonetheless. Then the patterns came back, all geometric shapes and spirals but I could tell there was a code in there somewhere if I looked long enough. The real question was whether or not I could look long enough without going absolutely insane.
From what I could draft back when my mind didn't spiral as often, the episodes came in time slots. They started as intervals of 3 minutes and would happen 1-2 times per day, but the longer the episodes became, the more they increased in frequency as well, thus creating an endless cycle.
So essentially I had no choice but to slowly lose my mind until I am always in a perpetual state of hallucinations. To think there was absolutely nothing that could be done in my situation, but to basically just let it happen was wild to me and quite frankly I hated how worthless I felt lying here each moment, just a living corpse.
The same nurse enters my room once a day, I could tell from the eyes and movements, on top of the fact that she barely ever spoke. Still covered head to toe, still a far off look in her eye like she would rather be anywhere else in the world than here. She handled me not with care, but rather barely concealed disdain, like I was something filthy or contagious, which may be correct.
I had still yet to figure out how exactly the virus was passed on, but I could highly speculate that it was airborne or through physical contact. It would make sense why she was in a damn near hazmat suit every time she needed to give me an injection.
She continued her routine checks, and I continued my observation, the same way I had always watched her. Given that she had a clipboard with her today however, today may have been a talking day.
"We'll be starting you on a new drug today, considering you are entering the last phase of your treatment, this is typically where the cure comes in so if your body rejects it…" Her words trailed off there but there was nothing else that needed to be said. If my body rejects this medication then I will die.
She picked up the pre-filled syringe and made her way to me which only required about 3 steps considering how small the room was. Under her breath I heard her mutter something, 'preparing to…subject 9…clearance.' I couldn't be sure what she had said but after a moment she injected the medicine into my arm.
What did she mean by subject 9 and clearance? Was she referring to me? Was I the subject 9 in question?
That would unnervingly make sense, considering I have long stopped considering myself a patient and rather a prisoner. The thought had crossed me that this could have all been one giant experiment, but I couldn't think of anyone who had the resources to pull off something so large, not even our governing body, The Council.
"Am I subject 9?" The question was out of my mouth before I had the chance to properly think about what I had just asked.
I could see her figure visibly stiffen and her already fair tone blanched white. Her body was turned to the side, but even from this direction, I could see the tight line that her eyes narrowed into, as if realizing she was getting out of character her posture relaxed immediately.
"What are you referring to Ms. Azurine you must have misheard." That was all the confirmation I needed to be sure she had called me a subject. Had she not said it, she most likely wouldn't have felt the need to clarify just now considering she barely talked to me before.
"You're right, I must've misheard." She wasted no more time, grabbing her things and leaving the room.
At least now my suspicions were all confirmed, I was definitely part of an experiment involving this virus. What I had no idea of, was why I was selected as a part of this testing.
Surely there had to be a specific criteria, something that warranted the subjects being chosen versus the many netizens that they left for dead. There must be something that they are looking for, but without any information on any of the other subjects that they had, I wouldn't be able to make a proper comparison. Using the information that I remembered from my other patients was too broad because unlike a concise group of people, there were way too many conflicting variables and little to no similarities. The more I thought about, the more I was absolutely disgusted by how well and truly fucked this situation.
Just to break down what I knew so far, unknown identity was sacrificing many human lives for experiment, while carefully monitoring a handful of subjects in a more inhumane version of a clinical trial.
The information that I lacked however, was who was the unknown entity, and why they thought this was necessary. If they had the equipment to run these clinical trials, that would mean they had enough to run trials of whatever bullshit virus they conducted without hurting thousands of innocent people.
I was finally able to write as I thought freely for the first time in days. I wrote as much as my brain could remember, as fast as my hands would allow me. Five pages in, my hands were screaming, but I had to list everything, just in case. In case of what, I didn't know yet, but something was telling me that these would be useful in the upcoming days.
The more I wrote the more I was filled with anger and hatred toward whoever was doing this, could there be such a large disregard for human life that you turned to committing mass genocide just for an experiment.
"Ha" A dry chuckle escaped my mouth as my hand paused above the journal. I was going to die for someone who decided they were going to throw the world in absolute chaos to fill their satisfaction.
If by some miracle I lived through this, I swore to myself that I would find them and I would kill them. Dirty sons of bitches that made me suffer like this, that made thousands suffer like this. I would make them feel the same pain they inflicted on me tenfold, and this thought brought me immense joy.
Laugh after laugh escaped my frail body rattling it against the bed as I was sent into yet another hallucination.
Even through the hallucination, I was somewhat shocked at how dark my thoughts were becoming, but why should I care? Why should I care about ending the life of someone who might end mine?
They decided it was fine to torture people for their own sick twisted reasons so would I be such a bad person if I did the same thing to them? How does that make me evil?
The only thing that could be heard from my cell for hours was laughter, and screams. Between feeling like I was on cloud nine at one moment and then falling face first off the same cloud in another moment was truly an experience. At times a pleasant one, and at other times, literally hell on earth. My shirt was stained red from the amount of blood I was losing through my nose.
By now, I was very accustomed to the symptoms, but never the pain, it was excruciating every single time and there was nothing I could do except scream. So much at times that my mouth had that copper metallic taste from ripping my vocal chords. The pain was often so bad that it rendered me unconscious and well this time was no different.
I continuously drifted in and out of sleep with not much else to do. I could barely sleep, barely eat or even move around anymore. Far from me to know why they thought that anyone could live through these conditions, if I had the strength to, I would've most likely put myself through a wall by now.
I bet those sick bastards were watching me lose my mind, lose my dignity and pride as a doctor. I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case, why should I be, to them I was only subject 9.