I’m back for a little bit you guys. I began writing a lot for Vaults of Siberia and have wrote enough to keep you guys updated for a few months. If you are new to the story, you may want to read Part I of Shattering Siberia before you get into Part II. Follow this link to read it now: http://abdlstoryforum.info/forums/index.php/topic,6057.0.html
I’m sorry I left you all with a cliff hanger on Shattering Siberia but what I will post today will hopefully make up for that. Here’s the long awaited first few chapter of the second part.
Vaults of Siberia
Water shatters through the glass of memories. The smell of cotton bursts through my mind as a collage of the past burns through my head. The memory of when I found my first teddy bear. The painful memory of the day I broke my first bone, which happened to be my pinky toe. The tearstained memory of the last day I saw my dad. The unforgettable memory of the day I went into a convenient store and met a boy.
The blurry remnants of the most crucial people in my life shift through my thoughts in my comatose state. I see the faces of my parents. My mother’s depression shadowing her every move. My father’s eyes that held the depth of the whole Pacific Ocean. The faces of the group of friends who I will always hold dear to my heart until my knuckles are white until the day I die. The feeling of people who were once strangers that I can now call my family when I had close to no one.
I see the face of the man who I fell in love with. His gentle hands caressing my back. The smell of evergreen that reminded me of home. The pieces of hair I always had the urge to push away from his eyes. The way his eyes danced playfully whenever I acted like a toddler. The crooked smile never to be forgotten.
A montage reels me through unconsciousness. The sharp pain. The soft love. The innocent grins. The akward tension. The rebellious adventures. The defiant tantrums. The unforgettable secret.
In one moment, everything seemed concrete, vivid.
In another, it was all forgotten.
I open my eyes and the bright view from the window makes me squint. I see a beautiful view of a courtyard with a pond lined with stones, stone benches, and a few rich maple trees. I sit up in the white bed and stretch with a yawn. I look around the room. The room has a vintage red on the wall with the huge window with warm grey on the other three walls. The messy bed I sit on has a maroon cover with three fluffy white pillows. I brush the back of my hand on the abnormally long one. My eyes drift over a light brown wooden dresser, desk and side table sitting near the bed. The light brown wood floor shines as if it were just polished.
The unfamiliar room staggers me as I sit in the bed. Is this my bed? I grip the blanket in my fists in confusion. The room is very calming but I can’t help but feel lost. I look around the room in a paranoid state. Should I leave the room? Or should I just act like I’m sleeping? Or maybe I should just wait?
All my questions are subsided as I hear a rustling of keys outside the door. I hear the knob turn. I look at the door with a horrified expression painted across my face. The first peak in between the crack of the door is a set of dark mahogany eyes. Then as the man enters the room, I realize how tall he is. He must be 6 or 7 feet tall. He looks incredibly fit with toned arms. The black v-neck compliments his lightly tanned skin tone. His hair is medium length with dark brown locks framing his sculpted face. His dark stubble peaks from his chin all the way up to his cheeks as he smiles. His eyes hold a feeling of authority.
His face reveals an underlying friendly message, “How are you today, Dakota?” His eyes study me carefully in concern as his mouth continues to smile.
A strange feeling hit me as he said my name. I feel as my face falls into a puddle of confusion. I feel anger but then I feel okay. I feel confused because I don’t know where I am, nor anything else for that matter. Most of all, I feel enraged at myself for not knowing anything at all.
I unclamped my hand from the mattress and scratched behind my ear. I forgot that the out of the ordinary man was still in the room, watching me with unwavering eyes. I don’t know how many seconds I took out, confused, but I think it was beginning to concern this man.
He moves close to the bed I was laying on as his smile disappears, “How are you feeling?” His head cocks to the side as he looks down to me. My mouth opens and closes as a tear falls down my face. I feel sad and infuriated yet I couldn’t even understand why. I just want to curl up in a ball and figure out why but I can’t remember anything. What is there to remember anyways? I clamp my hands in the sheets and I hang my head. Warm tears fall down my face as small frustrated noises escape my lips.
I feel the man’s arms hug me and pat my back. I eventually stop crying after what feels like ten minutes.
“It’s okay, we’ll figure this out. Everything will be better, there, there.” His soft words calm me. I didn’t know who the man was but I feel secure in his arms. As he stood back up, I felt a ghost of his arms and wanted them around me once again.
I wipe my tear-stained cheeks and look up at the man. He smiles warmly down at me, “Not feeling so great this morning, huh? Maybe if we get some food in you, you’ll feel better?” My mouth betrays me as a small grin creeps up to my face. He takes my grin as a yes and holds out his hand. I hesitate for a moment, looking at his hand. I silently take it and he leads me out of the room.
As we walk I feel suddenly awkward with his hand in mine. I slip my hand out of his quietly as we walk. It’s such an innocent moment, but I feel self-conscious all of a sudden. It’s as if something feels severely misplaced. We pass a few people in the hallway. I can’t help but watch them as we pass them. My eyes meet a girl who has deep chestnut hair and light blue eyes with a ghost of a laugh placed on her expression. I see a glint of contempt in the depths of her eyes as if she has some type of vendetta against me. I look away after I see the guy she’s walking with nudge her and say something quietly in her ear. I can’t help but feel that they are secretly talking about me. But what would they be even talking about? I can’t recall meeting anyone.
A panic rises in my chest. I feel my palms of my hands begin to sweat. My breath becomes short as I realize that I’m surrounded by unfamiliar faces. I don’t know where I am nor who these people are but I feel that I’m unwelcome in this place.
We walk into an open hall with the morning natural lighting casting though the windows. Through my panicked state, I can almost feel the unknown people casting gazes in my direction, as if I wouldn’t notice. My breathing staggers. I feel nauseous. My forehead is sweating and I look around in confusion.
“Dakota, what’s wrong? Need some water?” The man’s eyebrows knit together in concern.
I can’t find words to say. I haven’t spoken since I woke up from my comatose state. I kneel down and touch the cool mahogany floor with my hand. I cling one hand on the grey sweat pants that I am wearing. I feel dizzy and too nauseous. The first heave begins and I hear the man ask for water and help. Tears blur my vision as I dry heave whatever was left in my stomach. Acid chunks of an orangey brown empty onto the floor as hot tears drop onto the cool mahogany.
“I need some help. Can someone get Dr. Vallen?” I feel the unknown man lightly pat my back in reassurance as he calmly coos me.
I wipe the warm tears from my face and say in a croaky voice, “What’s your name?” My eyes meet his as his composure falls into a look of confusion and then into a smile.
“Finally someone decides to say something.” A small chuckle follows his words, “My name’s Steven.” He positions himself as if he were to pick me up and then he pauses, “Do you think you’ll be able to walk?”
I nod and Steven helps me to stand up. I feel woozy as I stand up, as if I were on drugs. That’s a silly thought. I’ve never been on drugs so how do I know what that feels like? My mind races and panic rises through me again. I stand still and feel myself lose balance. Just as I begin to fall, Steven’s arms catch me and my feet are picked off the ground. I realize that Steven is cradling me in his arms as he carries me. I feel patches of red warm my cheeks in embarrassment from the situation.
It feels as if five minutes passes in a blur of a full blown panic attack. My mind racing as I cling onto Steven’s shirt. The realization of not remembering anything racks through my brain which cripples me repeatedly on the way to wherever Steven was taking me. My legs begin twitching and I can’t make them stop. Muscle spasms shake them as I try to lock them in place. My jaw clicks as I attempt to calm down and keep myself together.
We go through a few long hallways and down an elevator. Steven pushes through a few doors and it begins to remind me of a doctor’s office with calming colors of coffee browns and sea greens warming the room. I begin whimpering softly in confusion. I hear Steven’s attempts to calm me as I whimper in his arms.
Steven asks the nurse sitting at the desk, “Is Dr. Vallen in at all? She’s having a terrific panic attack.” I couldn’t help but stare at her peach colored clothing as my legs fidgeted uncontrollably.
The nurse replies, “Bring her into Room 2 and I’ll have to phone Dr. Vallen.” She hurriedly went the opposite direction of Room 2 into a hallway. Steven strolls into Room 2 and sets me down on the reclining foam bed. I feel a slight stinging pain on my bottom as it hits the soft bed. I wonder where the pain came from. I cringe as my head is gently placed on the pillow. He pulls a chair up to the bed and strokes my hair behind my ear, trying to calm me still.
I gawk at him as he brushes my hair. His face is calming. It reminds me of someone who I once knew, yet I couldn’t place a finger on it. My breathing hitches and a sharp breath of air continues to send me into another panic attack. I whimper in pain from my jaw locking. I stare up at the florescent lights glaring down at me.
After five minutes the nurse walks in, “Hi, Dakota, my name in Nurse Theresa. Now tell me, how are you feeling right now?” Her melting brown eyes look concerned as she looked over me. Her short copper hair framed her face with light freckles complimenting her smile. I can tell she was well over the age of forty but her smile made her look much younger. There was some nurturing tenderness that illuminated from her.
My fingernails scratch my arms as I reply meekly as I look at my hands, “I’m scared.” I can tell that she already knew how I felt by my restless legs and my stiff posture.
Nurse Theresa spoke softly, “Well, I spoke to Dr. Vallen on the phone and he said that he’s on his way. It’s going to be about twenty minutes. He said that if the panic attacks persist for the next ten minutes then we will have to administer some medication in you so you can calm down. Okay, hun, it’s all going to be better.” Her hand pats my shoulder in reassurance.
The longest ten minutes pass as I tried to keep myself from vomiting. Steven kept a small trash can near him just in case I would vomit once again. My legs stopped having muscle spasms for a few minutes and then they began tremoring again. Thoughts kept racing in my head of the unknown and I was too scared to ask any questions. Nurse Theresa left for a few minutes and came back with a syringe filled with a translucent liquid.
I stare at the needle as she sets it down by the bed. “Don’t get frightened, it’s going to calm you down and then you’ll feel better, okay?” Her head tilts so her eyes can meet mine. I nod timidly.
She ties rubber around the muscles of my upper arm. She takes a cold sterile wipe and dabs my arm. I whimper lightly as she takes the cap off the needle. The needle’s edge glistens as she brings in closer to my arm.
“How about we take a deep breath?” I take one breath in and watch as the needle pierces through my skin. I look away as the sharp pain leaves and is replaced with a Hello Kitty Band-Aid. My eyes trace the pretty Band-aid through my panicked state.
The nurse throws the needle in a bin with a red skull and X on it, “See, not so bad, is it?”
I shrugged still fidgeting. About eight minutes passed and the muscle spasms were gone and I was left sore from locking my jaws, arms, and legs. I was beginning to feel weary from lack of food.
The nurse left and said that she’d be back soon. I gaze at Steven, “I’m hungry.”
He smiles with tired eyes, “Well, we’ll get something to eat soon, okay?” I nod.
Nurse Theresa returned with a few items in her hands. I yawned and looked over the items as she set them on the bed. I feel calm and collected, as if I have no problems in the world. I stretch feeling a rush of delight.
“Here’s a granola bar for now and some water. Let’s get you changed before we have a talk with the doctor, okay hun?” I nod as I open my water bottle. I begin drinking it then I feel a tug on my sweat pants. Confusion spreads across my face and water spills onto my shirt as I begin coughing.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Venomous words spit out of my mouth. I fidget away from the nurse and she gives me a irritated look back and then to Steven. Steven stands up and moves towards me.
“We have to get your undergarments changed. Now come on.” She has a calm face as her hands move towards my sweats. I look down at the soft white peeking out from my grey sweats. Confusion spreads across my face. I was wearing a pull-up? How did I not realize that earlier? Weird.
I stumble over my words, “Wh-Why am I wearing that?”
Theresa replies, “You had an accident in your sleep last night and this is for just in case you fall asleep again. Considering the medication you’re on it’s more likely it’s going to happen.” I nod, accepting what she said as the truth. I didn’t want to wet the bed like a toddler after all.
Steven’s hand strokes my hair again. My cheeks feel hot as the sweat pants are rolled down to my pale ankles and pulled off. A package of wipes are laid next to my foot and the nurse grabs a few. She moves over to me and pulls down the soaked pull-up I had on. The pull-up is pulled off of me as a cool breeze falls over my private parts. She begins wiping my exposed area gently with a cool wipe. It tickles as I try to not fidget or make any noises.
She turns around to grab the white diaper sitting on the counter, “I know this is going to be a bit thicker than the GoodNite but we don’t want you leaking.” I wanted to curl up in a ball when she said that. Steven was just standing there as if this was nothing. It’s as if this was a common situation for the two of them. Maybe it was common for me and I just couldn’t remember it. Or maybe it wasn’t at all.
The soft white on the diaper is slid under me. The padding grazing my sore bottom. Powder tickles me and the diaper is snugly pulled over and taped on. The nurse opens my granola bar wrapper and hands it to me. I eat it shyly as she pulls my sweat pants back over the diaper. Steven helps her to raise my legs. I was frozen in embarrassment as this all happened through my drug induced state. I could have easily pulled my own pants up but the nurse and Steven seemed to be hovering over me as if I were a special case.
I hear a knock on the door and my eyes travel to an older man with a jacket on looking as if he ran through rain to get here. His skeptical eyes meet mine with an awaiting smile. Some uncomfortable feeling arises in me and I can’t point out why.
The man strides over to the side of his bed and he holds out his hand to shake, “Hello Dakota, I’m Dr. Vallen.” His face was weary with age but his grey eyes were searching for something in mine, “I assume that her panic attack has subsided?” He says to Nurse Theresa as if I’m not in the room with both of them. I chew on the last piece of the granola bar and take a huge gulp of my water.
I zone out as Dr. Vallen and Steven leave the room for a moment. I am a bit sleepy from the Valium the nurse injected into me. Did I just say Valium? Did the nurse tell me that it was Valium? How did I know what drug she injected? The thought catches me off guard as I stare as my grey sock of my foot. Surprisingly, no panic attack happens in result of my confusion. Thank god for the Valium.
I look up to the nurse, “Did you say that was Valium in the syringe?” The nurse cocks her head at me, attempting to remember.
She shakes her head, “No, I don’t think I did. But you’re a very observant girl. Good guess.” She nods at me with a smile as if it was somehow nothing special.
That wasn’t a guess though. I just knew it. It’s as if I could point out other drugs by their shape and color. It’s as if something from my lost memory was trying to resurface and tell me something important. Ever since I woke up it has frustrated me that something feels like it’s important, severely crucial to my situation, yet I can’t remember it. My brows furrow as I keep staring at my sock.
I hear footsteps come near the room after what seems like ten minutes. Dr. Vallen and Steven walk into the room. Dr. Vallen’s jacket is replaced with a white coat.
Dr. Vallen crosses his arms and smiles at me, “Okay, Dakota. We must have a discussion about your situation. If you could follow me to my office.” He waits for me to get up and I feel everyone’s eyes watching me as I follow him. I’m surprised when Steve lets me walk instead of carrying me again.
His office is to the left of the entrance down a narrow hallway. I follow him into a softly lit room with coffee colored walls and comfy leather chairs. I plop down on the chair in the corner. He sits down across from my chair with a notebook and a pen in hand. Steven closes the door behind him and sits in a chair adjacent to me.
Dr. Vallen looks at me with watchful eyes, “Before we discuss more complex topics, I’d like to know, what has been sending you into these panic attacks today?” I didn’t like looking into his eyes because it became a bit stressful. He had hawk-like eyes awaiting my every move as if I were prey.
“Uh.” I shift in my seat and tuck a leg under my other knee, “I’m scared because I can’t really remember anything. Nothing at all, really.” I shrug in a depressed state.
He writes something down and sighs as if he was weary of the subject matter, “Well, what I am about to say to you will be very shocking and hard to comprehend. With that being said, I’m not going to keep you in the dark about this.” His eyes watch me carefully and I can feel Steven’s eyes following my every move.
“You were in a car accident a few days ago. You’re body was perfectly intact; however, you went into a coma for the past two days. Yesterday you awoke, but you were in and out of sleep so we moved you to one of our private dorm rooms. You said that you couldn’t remember anything last night when I talked to you. Do you remember the conversation?” He tilts his head in question. The only thing I can think of is why did my bottom still hurt? How could an accident leave my body intact but my butt sore as if I fell on it really hard? I brushed off the thought. My memory issue was much more important.
I try to think back and I shook my head, “No, not really.”
His face turns sympathetic, “You were very tired so that may be why you can’t recall it.” He scribbles down some more notes.
“Now, we found that you have lost most, if not all, of your memory. Hopefully, with time you will gradually remember. For now we must be grateful that you are not brain dead.” His words dig into my skin. Pain surges through me. I feel an emotional imbalance as it all sinks in.
Dr. Vallen talks sympathetically as his words leave his mouth, “With the loss of memory, it is very possible for you to develop mental disorders or temporary symptoms from what happened. Such things as panic attacks, hallucinations, and depression can accompany memory loss. It is quite an unfortunate thing to occur so young in your life.” I take a deep breath and clasp my hands.
One question reoccurred in my mind, “So who was I then?”
Dr. Vallen’s eyebrows arch in surprise, “You still are the same person of course. Memory may leave but personality and intellect don’t go right out the door.”
I try to remember my full name. It takes a moment but I get it. Dakota Siberia. Not too hard, right? I think that’s it.
“Dakota Siberia? That’s my full name, right?” Dr. Vallen nods with an encouraging look.
“I really don’t have a middle name. That’s weird.” I say to myself quietly.
He ignores my comment and inquires further, “Do you remember anything else? How about when you were born? Parents names?”
I try picking at my pathetic mind. Numbers form in my head, “December 13th, 1996?”
Steven smiles, “Good job, Dakota.” I grin. I was remembering something at least.
“David and Jane are my parent’s names.” I stated quietly. I felt a rise in my confidence. I couldn’t remember memories but I could remember names of people who raised me. It was the only thing that was making me feel better. I tried to file through my mind for other names but nothing came. Absolutely nothing else.
I met the doctor’s eyes, “What happened to my parents? Where are they now?” Steven coughs as the doctor shifts his legs. An awkward tension moves into the room.
“You’re mother and father passed away many years ago.” I could feel how vague the doctor was being. It set me slightly on edge, I want to know every detail of my life that I can but he was treating it as a simple concept. It made me sad, but I felt like I already knew the pain enough to not cry about it. It was bleakly weird.
“Where am I?”
“You are in the Hybrid Institution of Redway, California.” I don’t think I originally came from California. What the hell.
“Where did I used to live?”
“We have no idea. We were going to ask you but that idea is thrown out of the window. You’re old foster parents are located in Oak Park, Illinois.” Dr. Vallen’s eyes study my blank expression carefully, " However, when we phoned the old foster parents they said you ran away a few months ago, which was quite shocking. You belonged to a foster care center in Illinois, but as of a day ago the Hybrid Institution took up documents to keep you in our foster care. You’re situation was so special that we couldn’t let you go after being in a coma in our facilities for two days. Also, you have a few friends here that said they knew you that attend the Hybrid Institution as well."
I scratched my head. This story seemed feasible but it was incredulous to some extent. All these questions raced through my mind to figure out who I used to be. Why would I ever leave? How did I even end up in California? How did I get the money? What was I even doing here for a few months? Did I know anyone in California? Did I have friends? Did I have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend? Am I lesbian? Was I really some runaway?
Out of all the things I had questions about, something was pulling at me. It was an unsettling feeling of being on edge. One thought that was stronger than the rest fell into my lap as I looked into Dr. Vallen’s dull grey eyes.
Everything he told me was an undoubtedly made up lie.
Three long months passed of cognitive therapy, finding the truth, remembering who I used to be, catching up on academics, and talking to my group of friends at the Hybrid Institution. Throughout the course of the past few months, multiple memories have resurfaced. All of my memories up until the age of ten have came back to me in incredible timing. It’s as if a shadow was blocking my view of my memories and day by day the old memories are returning spontaneously.
The most recent memories are from when I turned 8 and I had anger issues. I remember a nurse named Bethany, with unattractive maroon lipstick, trying to give me a shot. She had to call another nurse in to hold me down. This resulted in me kicking the nurse holding the syringe in the stomach and I ran out of the doctor’s office.
Other memories are from when I was a bit younger. Most of them are very insignificant to how I wound up here since all of them are from 6 years ago. I gave up on trying to force memories to resurface because it just given me headaches.
The most heart wrenching ones have been of my dad. The worst part of the memories of my dad is that I just know he isn’t alive anymore. I feel somehow settled on the pain but I feel so helpless with the idea of not knowing where he was or what happened. How did he pass away? What exactly happened to my parents? I want the answers but I know that the only answers only could come within me. I remembered the events surrounding the time when he passed away but the more I try to figure out what happened, the more panic attacks I have.
I woke up sweating and crying two weeks ago from the memory of the day he took me to Menards with him. It was such a seemingly irrelevant memory but it was a moment I wish I could go back too.
I believe I was only 7 and we were on the way back from the store in his truck. I remember we were talking about school and we got into a deeper conversation. My dad looked in his rearview mirror and then looked at me, “No matter what anyone will ever tell you, Dakota. Always listen to your heart, because that will guide you farther than your mind ever will. The mind is a complex work of art, and sometimes it can steer you the wrong way.” I didn’t understand why he said that at the time because it was so out of context but those words traveled with me these past few days.
The words echoed through me every time I saw Dr. Vallen. The more I visited the doctor, the more I found he was full of shit. I put on an innocent face every time I saw him and tried to act the same as I did my first day. It was the most incredibly hard task I have ever performed but it was necessary to me finding out the truth. I wanted him to think that I believed every word that came out of his pathetic mouth. I had a feeling that something was wrong from the first day, but I knew better than to say anything. My conscience told me to shut up and I obeyed. Every memory I had was not to be put out in the open for Dr. Vallen. Something told me that something bad would happen if I told him I was beginning to remember things. Something else told me that something even worse would happen if he knew I was trying to keep things from him.
The first day I awoke, he told me that I had foster parents. That was a lie. A man named Daniel is my adopted, well, basically uncle to me. At least from my memories of around the age of 7 and 8 I can tell he took over after my parents passed away. The memories are very fuzzy since they are older but I know he was very close to my dad. I can’t help but get frustrated thinking about how Dr. Vallen lied to me about the only sense of family I have left.
Out of all the memories, there is a weird reoccurrence between them all. Old thoughts and daydreams keep reemerging and they are unsettling. Some days I have an urge to dream about something I rather not admit to.
My first day at Hybrid I was diapered and it was awkward when it happened but later on my mind kept going back to it. The moment was so raw yet innocent. I began having dreams of being diapered some nights. The mornings I wake up, I feel like a freak of nature wanting to be put back in diapers. It’s such a taboo thing to wish for but the urge is there and it won’t go away. Some days I try to push it out of my mind but other days I will sit through classes daydreaming of being diapered.
The worst part is that I really don’t want to admit to is that it’s not just the diapers that I want. It’s a combination of the urge to act like a toddler. It’s so strange and I can’t wrap my head around it. I’ve been spending hours upon hours trying to map out why I was absolutely and undeniably attracted to such a silly thing.
I snap out of my daze as I look at my Calculus teacher as he drones on about limits. I understand limits but it’s a pain in the ass listening to a lecture you already know. I look out the window towards the towering iron fence that surrounds the whole of Hybrid Institution. My eyes travel farther into the forest that stretches for miles into the abyss. I can’t help but think how hidden Hybrid Institution must be.
I’ve never left Hybrid Institution since I awoke three months ago. It was only August and I can’t believe it’s already November. It feels as if years have passed stuck in this place. My days have consisted of waking up, going to school for three hours, eating lunch, going to see Dr. Vallen, and then having free time for homework, friends, or anything I felt like doing within the limitations of the Hybrid Institution that is.
However, I’ve found there are limitations to this. I can only go out of the dorm room area with someone watching, I mean hanging out with, me. On top of that, I almost always have to have someone around me. I see Steven on a daily basis since he is my designated ‘caretaker’ or whatever the hell that refers too. He seems to have a temper I’ve found. He always tells me to ‘watch my language’ or ‘stop giving me attitude’ every once in a while. I guess sometimes I tend to become a bit irritated with being stuck in the same place for a long period of time but I don’t necessarily get too moody with him. There’s something more in depth than the eye can see with Steven. It’s as if he has been holding something against me and he has to keep reminding himself to forget it. I see it in his eyes. They will be enraged and then they will flash with sympathy.
“Ehem,” I drop my pencil on the ground as the Mr. Dillons is standing in front of my desk staring down at me under his glasses, "Miss Siberia, the next time I see you zoning out during my lecture I will give you a dentention. Pay attention. " The sound of the bell saves me as I pick up my bag and leave his class.
I huff and say under my breath, “Fucking asshole.” Mr. Dillons didn’t like me the first day I entered his class. Freaking sexist douchebag. At least it was my last hour and I can finally eat lunch. The only thing I’ve been looking forward to every day was my lunch and dinner.
As I was walking my eyes followed a tall girl with long deep chesnut colored hair and recognize my close friend. My first impression on the first day walking by her was incredibly incorrect. When I first saw her, I thought she didn’t like me. I found out that her name was Evelyn or preferably Eve. The first few times I was forced to talk to her, through labs in Chemistry, she was very on edge and rude. I tried my best to be nice and just get to know everyone that I met, including her. She seemed to ignore all my attempts of friendliness. A few weeks later, Eve gradually became easier to talk to. It was as if something changed in her that made her like me a bit more.
The more we talked, the more we found we had in common. It began with just talking in Chemistry and it grew into both of us eating lunch at the same table. Then we began hanging out in her dorm and sometimes my dorm. We both had a sarcastic sense of humor that most people didn’t get. She was also different, but that’s what made us so alike. I felt different as well. I felt this constant gnawing of curiosity. Then sometimes I would have the feeling that I just need to do something of worth. That there was so much to explore in this world and I was stuck here.
I pick up pace and call out her name, “Eveeeeeeeee.”
She turns her head and smiles, “Oh god, not you again.” She nudges my elbow with hers when I finally catch up to her in the hallway. She continues talking about some strict teacher that won’t cut her slack on an essay to her other friends. I zone out at we walk to the cafeteria. I never really talked to anyone else at the institution besides Eve and Steven even though on the first day I met the peopleat our lunch table, they all said that they were once friends with me. It all prevailed to be a made up lie because none of them have even tried to talk to me.
As we’re eating Eve looks to me with a pleasant face, “Hey, got any plans tonight?” She arches her eyebrows referring to as if I had actual plans like a boyfriend or something. Out of all people, she knows that I can’t nor won’t be going anywhere.
I laugh and shake my head, “Of course not.”
“Want to hang out after this?” Her light blue eyes that always have a flick of eyeliner look at me under her long lashes. I nod quietly in response and keep eating my PB & J.
A half an hour later I find myself walking into Eve’s room. I plop down on her bed and bring my legs up to my chest. Eve throws her backpack on the ground and closes the door.
“Sometimes it pisses me off how strict they can be.” Eve says. I’ve found she doesn’t talk to anyone else about the Hybrid Institution except for me. It’s something we tend to casually talk about. Eve almost keeps it a secret. She tells me to never talk to anyone about it. She told me to never even tell Dr. Vallen. It’s feels as if she had something big to hide.
I stare at my feet, “At least you can leave.”
I blink up at her and I catch a glimpse of sympathy. As if she feels a certain amount of pain for me, “It’s not as easy as it may seem. I’m in the same boat as you are.”
“But you aren’t tied to here. If I leave, I have no home to go to, if you leave, you at least have a home to go to.” Eve closes her eyes as if she were in pain.
“It’s not that simple.” She says quietly while shaking her head slowly. Eve opens her eyes and sits beside me on the bed.
She tells me in almost an inaudible voice, “People will come after me when I leave. I have no choice but to stay here.” I shot her a surprised look. Why would people come after her?
I asked quietly, “Who would even come after you?”
She closes her eyes for a moment then opens them, “I’ve said too much. I’m sorry. Let’s just drop the subject.” Her eyes shift to the walls slightly. A small shiver runs through me as I realize that my every move is being watched. It’s funny that it’s so offsetting even though I knew I was being watched for the passed few months. Eve finally confirmed all of my thoughts in one moment.