Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Daisy
They didn’t let me go running again today, but they haven’t given me the pills either.
I think it’s been about ten days or so since I was brought here and they’ve made sure to give me the space-out meds every single morning, so I’m hoping that my good behavior has made them start to lower their guard.
I try to project the meek and obedient little Marguerite who would never do anything bad and definitely never try to escape.
I even called The Heath ‘home’ in front of Stoke the other day. I almost gagged on it, but it was worth it if they’re going to let me outside.
I went back to his office late last night to find more evidence against him.
It was a big risk because, if I’m caught, they’ll make sure I never get the chance to get out of here, but I’m glad I did it.
There were schematics on the Stinger showing the voltage it delivers in a box in the cupboard as well as financial documents listing the names of people who have donated to this place over the years.
These are the faceless enemies I want to take down in addition to the assholes who work here.
I also found employee files showing that half the Blanks employed at The Heath have been convicted of crimes in the past. The Heath only pays them minimum wage. I guess that’s why.
I located a file on Stoke’s computer, too.
The idiot rarely closes down his PC properly.
Unfortunately, it was encrypted. I wish there was a way to send it to Blake because I’m 100% sure there’s damning evidence on it; why else would the good doctor hide it when everything else is so easy to get into?
But I don’t have the skills that Blake has.
Instead, I copy it onto a flash drive I find in the receptionist's desk and I put it with the rest of the incriminating paperwork I’ve already gathered.
Maybe when I get out of here, Blake can crack it.
Thoughts of my guys make me melancholy. I miss them so much. I’d kill for a cuddle from Shade, a kiss from Blake. Even waking up crushed and too hot under all of them in bed wouldn’t bother me.
Did they get my message? Do they know where I am? What does it matter? How would they even get me out of here if they did know where to find me? They’re so far away.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts by William.
The kid is making noises to himself again, but they’re loud enough for others to hear.
I glance at Philip as I pretend to doodle at my designated common room table.
The Blank is surreptitiously playing on his phone and hasn’t noticed yet.
Probably checking the footie soccer scores.
I look at William out of the corner of my eye. I get it, I do, but he has to stop.
I want to tell him to be quiet before it’s heard, let him know that he’ll be punished again, but speaking to William isn’t allowed. They’re isolating him.
I see now it’s to break him faster.
The same way they broke me.
I hear William crying for his mum at night a lot.
I did the same. I wonder if she knows what this place is doing to her son.
I wonder if my mother knew. Maybe she did.
Maybe she thought it was necessary to cure me.
Maybe she didn’t think it was so bad, or that the result outweighed the method.
Maybe John lied to her. Shade thought this place was some kind of clinic-spa, after all.
Maybe that’s what she was told…or what she just needed to believe.
I don’t even think she came in when they dropped me off here and left me.
Another Blank strolls in. Janet. Another newbie.
I’ve noticed her a few times since I got back.
She hasn’t been cruel so far as I’ve seen.
In fact, more than once, I think I’ve seen shock in her eyes, especially when it comes to William.
I saw her write something down the other day and then stuff the piece of paper into her pocket.
She’s also much friendlier than the other Blanks generally are. Now that Douglas is gone, I think she’s probably the nicest one.
I stand up and walk across the room as William’s noises get louder. I pretend I’m just looking out the window at the frosty fields next to The Heath where the horses are, then I lean closer to him.
‘You need to stop,’ I murmur very quietly under the sound of the TV playing some Stoke-approved kids’ show.
He doesn’t answer. Just makes more noises. I sigh.
‘I know it’s hard,’ I try, ‘but they’re going to keep doing what they’re doing to you until you start doing what they want. There are rules here, and they’ll make you follow them. The corrections will get worse.’
He ignores me, and I roll my eyes. I shouldn’t have bothered. It’s like he’s not even hearing me.
There have been other adults and teens like William over the years. They come and go. Not everyone stays at the Heath for the long haul. Just me, I think, and I’ve never seen anyone here under thirteen. I’ve been here the longest.
I glance at Janet again. She’s glancing between the still completely oblivious Philip and William, but she isn’t doing anything.
She hasn’t scolded William, or given out a demerit, or zapped him.
I wonder if I should chance talking to her.
It’s clear, at least to me, that she isn’t the same as the others. She doesn’t fit the pattern I know.
I look outside again. The horses are playing. I need to get outside at least. I need to run. And I can’t do any more for William. At least, not until I get this place closed down for good, maybe send a letter to his mother detailing what I’ve seen so she never puts him somewhere like this again.
Maybe that would be enough…
I walk back to my seat and doodle some more before taking out a coloring book and slowly beginning to fill it in.
My mind rages against this meaningless busywork, especially without the space-out pills, but it’s necessary.
Despite being useless, I need to show the Blanks that I’m a good little resident, and then I’ll hopefully get my privileges back.
I hear purposeful footsteps and Crewes saunters into the room, his eyes zeroing in on William, who’s still making noise, and narrowing to slits. He tuts at Janet and Philip.
‘You’re supposed to zap him when he makes too much noise,’ he admonishes, bringing out his buttons and finding the right one.
‘You bloody do it then,’ Philip says without looking up from his phone. ‘I’m busy.’
I watch Janet intently and see her eyes widen a fraction as Crewes separates one of the buttons from the rest.
William lets out a mule-like bray as his body quivers with the shock. He’s then admonished by Crewes for making noises and told to keep quiet. Janet turns and leaves the room slowly, pretending she’s not fleeing.
Maybe she’s horrified like any decent person would be.
After a moment, I follow.
I don’t see her in the hallway and I wonder if she’s gone to the bathroom to compose herself. I step into the ladies’ room, and, sure enough, she’s there, looking at herself in the mirror and muttering something to her reflection. When she sees me, her expression shutters.
‘Are you all right, Marguerite?’ she asks.
I tilt my head at her. Yes, I don’t think she liked what she just saw Crewes do.
‘You don’t belong here,’ I say.
She blanches, then covers it quickly. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You’re not like the others,’ I say. ‘You’re not really a Blank.’
‘A Blank?’ she asks. ‘An orderly, you mean? Of course I am!’
‘You’re not like the others,’ I say again. ‘I can tell.’
Her lips purse. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. Shouldn’t you be in your chair drawing pictures?’
‘Why are you here?’ I ask, ignoring her silly question. ‘You could tell me the truth, you know. No one would believe me anyway, even if I did blab.’
She says nothing, just starts washing her hands, and my eyes narrow.
‘Or maybe,’ I continue, ‘I go tell Stoke that you haven’t been doing your job. You haven’t zapped anyone, or given any demerits that I’ve seen. That might be enough for him to look closer and see that you aren’t meant to be here.’
‘That isn’t true,’ she interrupts. ‘And I gave one out yesterday.’
I snort. ‘One? Please. I know you’re not here to work as a Blank. Which means you’re here for something else. Maybe you could use an ally.’
‘You?’ she asks incredulously, raising a brow. ‘No offense, Marguerite, but even if I did need an ally, how could you possibly help me? Aren’t you recovering from some kind of psychosis?’
I roll my eyes, and I see she’s surprised by the expression, by the dismissal.
‘Psychosis,’ I repeat with a chuckle.
I know I’m showing my hand, and I hope she doesn’t go to Stoke, but maybe if I want answers, I need to show a little trust first.
‘You must know that I wasn’t here when you started at The Heath,’ I say.
Her chin rises in defiance, but then she nods.
‘I asked them where you came from. I was told that you were in another part of the building before, but you weren’t, were you?’
I shake my head.
‘What’s your story?’ she asks quietly.
‘It’s too long to tell you,’ I answer, conscious that if I don’t return to the common room soon, I’ll be missed and someone will come looking for me.
‘We should talk. More, I mean.’ She steps closer and lowers her voice.
‘I’m a reporter,’ she says. ‘Stories about this place made it to my desk. Dark stuff. Disappearances sometimes. Rumors—’
‘And have you found your rumors to be true?’ I ask.
‘Some of them,’ she says.
‘Like the Stinger.’
She gives a small nod and then shakes her head, looking at the floor.
‘It’s illegal,’ she whispers. ‘They shouldn’t be doing this to people. To patients.’
‘Yes,’ I say quietly. ‘So, you’re here to find evidence to take them down, to get this place closed?’
She nods again.
‘Have you had any luck?’
‘Not yet. I only have my first-hand account of what it’s like here for the residents...’
‘Right,’ I say softly, cutting her off.