Chapter Seventeen #3
“I’m not stripping in front of you.”
“Well, then I guess we can do this the fun way.”
He stalks towards me and images flicker through my brain.
Darkness. Bushes. Tools. Bright lights and voices.
Familiar voices. The smells from a car garage thickening at the back of my throat.
Just as quickly as they come, they stop.
And then I’m confronted by his hands on my body, trying to tear off my clothes.
“Stop it! Fine! I’ll do it myself!”
He takes a step back but stays within touching distance. My mind is racing, trying to think of ways I can conceal my phone and my body from his beady, swollen eyes. It soon becomes obvious I have no hope. Even Darla is turning away. At least one of them has some respect.
I undo my trainers, toeing them off one at a time. “Am I allowed to keep my socks on?”
“Those socks are permitted. You will be issued a uniform tomorrow with other items that are up to standard. You will have no need for trainers while you are here as you won’t be leaving the grounds...”
“What? Not at all? I need shoes. If I don’t have shoes to wear, the germs. They’ll make me sick.”
He ignores my question. “That’s why I left you the socks. I was being nice. I can change my mind if you want me to?”
He picks up my trainers and chucks them into the suitcase. The mud on the bottom from the floor scatters all over the rest of my things. Charming. I peel off my leggings and then pull my hoodie over my head. “Can I keep my hoodie? I get cold at night-time.”
“That’s what the blanket is for.”
“But—”
“Strip! Stop stalling.”
I start to pull the hoodie over my head. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” I feel him pull the phone from my crop top, and as I finish removing it, I can see him with his silly little smirk. “So much for leaving it in the car.”
“I must have forgotten I put it there.”
“Yeah, yeah, likely story.”
“What about my underwear?” I’m standing in front of him in my high-waisted thong and crop top. I can feel the breeze through the window. The nights may be getting lighter, but the temperatures don’t warrant naked sleeping yet.
“I’ll take that, too. I told you you’ll get patient-issued ones tomorrow.”
My brain bounces between which part of me I’d like him to see for the least amount of time.
Boobs are boobs, so they win the first round draft.
I lift my good arm up and pull it out of the straps before moving it down my bad arm and into his grip.
I bounce from foot to foot, trying to stall for more time.
I’m repulsed by the movement the action is causing in my body.
My fat rolls are jiggling, my belly is hanging, and my boobs are almost at my belly button.
Not wanting to embarrass myself any further, I hook my fingers into the top of my thongs and drop them to the floor.
My brain cycles through all of the potential things that could go wrong or that I could catch with no shoes and limited layers on top of my body.
And none of them sounds nice. I’m itching to take a shower and scrub this cell within an inch of its life.
The need for cleanliness is bigger than the need for a car fanatic to go fast in his new and improved Subaru.
I kick them over to Dicky Dickwad. “Here. Enjoy. Now something to sleep in would be nice.”
“What did you think when I said back to basics? This is exactly what I meant. No clothes. No phones. No makeup. Nothing. And don’t get it twisted, the pillow for your head and blanket to keep you warm don’t need to be a permanent fixture either.
The behaviour you’ve displayed so far is enough to warrant me taking that away too.
But I’m a nice guy, so I’ll give you a second chance. ”
“And when, pray tell, will I be given a list of all of these rules?”
“Tomorrow at breakfast. You are not to talk to any of the other patients unless they speak to you, or you have requested permission through us by writing.”
Works for me; I don’t like people anyway.
“Writing? What century do you think this is?”
“One where you’re not in control.”
“I’m a woman; we’re never in control. It’s a man's world; we just exist in it to birth the babies and provide a quick lay.”
“And you’d be so much better at that without the ability to talk,” he sneers. All the while, Darla stands to the side like a good little girl. Demure. Mindful. What a joke.
“And where is the library?”
“You’ll be given a full tour when I can be bothered, where you’ll be told what parts of the grounds you’re allowed to visit and what parts are restricted. Until then, I suggest you get some rest. You’re gonna need it.”
With that, he turns on his heel and walks out of the room, motioning towards Darla to pick up my stuff and follow him.
“You really shouldn’t have poked the bear,” she says, turning to leave.
Too bad, I love a ferocious beast.
I’m left standing there, alone, with no way to call for help, no Kindle for comfort and a blanket the size of my left thigh. Sleep evades me easily enough as it is; tonight’s going to be impossible.