Chained Soul – Part Twenty-Nine

This is the last part of Chained Soul that is going to be released on my blog, Tapas and Wattpad. There is one more part after this, but I’ve decided it’s best to save that for Chained Soul’s official ebook and paperback release, so I hope you enjoy the penultimate part of Robbie’s story! Quick warning: this series does contain strong language, so if that’s not your thing, you’re free to skip this one!

Check out Part One, including a synopsis for the whole series, here!

If you missed Part Twenty-Eight, you can read that here!

Day Twenty-Nine

I don’t want to write down any of the shit that went on in that assessment room. I don’t think I can. Every time I pick up the pen to try and write down even a sentence about it, my hand starts to shake. I can try to work around it. I’ll write the stuff that seems normal, or at least half-normal, but I can’t get the other shit down.

A pair of guards came for me. Kathy wasn’t there. When they took me out of the room, I looked at the door for the room next to mine – you know, where Helen was. It was slightly ajar, and what I could see inside was empty, but I swear to God there was a red mark on the floor, and one on the doorframe. They weren’t handprints or anything like that, just smudges, but I swear they were there.

I asked the guards who used to be in the room. They didn’t answer. They didn’t really say anything to me the entire time. I didn’t ask again.

They walked me through the corridor, which was as busy as ever, maybe more so. No one looked at me except the guards – they wouldn’t take their eyes off me for a second. My hands were tied behind my back like they were when they took me outside, and to that failed group session thing. We didn’t go in any direction I’d been in those other two times.

It was a long walk. The corridors got less busy, then more busy, then we got to a set of stairs and went down them, and I was really thinking that they were going to take me to some basement and shoot me in the head and be done with the whole thing. I mean, they clearly did something fucked up to Helen. I saw blood. I know I saw blood.

That was one of the things they asked me about. I’m getting ahead of myself, but Helen was the only thing I could think about when they asked that question. Have you had any contact with any other patients during your time in the facility? I suppose I would’ve had contact with the group session patients if it had actually happened, so I spent that time just talking about that and how seeing someone else be violent freaked me out. It didn’t really, but I thought they might like to hear that. That I don’t like violence. The sight of it.

Or the sound of Helen being beaten and dragged from her room.

Down the stairs, anyway. We went down the stairs, and the air was kinda colder, which I guess makes sense. Everything looked pretty much the same. There were no windows upstairs, and none down on this basement floor, obviously. It was quieter. There were still a couple of people in white coats flitting around, and guards. I didn’t see any other patients.

They put me in this small room, the same room that I’m in now. It’s just a box, smaller than the other one, and there’s no toilet or sink or anything. A literal square. The door doesn’t have a flap for food and there’s no furniture. No fancy bullshit computer. After I came back, I found my stuff in here. Clothes. Pen. Paper. They probably couldn’t be bothered reading it. Thank fuck for that.

I actually don’t know how long I was kept waiting here before they came and got me. It felt like hours, but time can fuck with you. Might’ve just been ten minutes. I’ve got no way of knowing. But the same two guards came back, and then took me to this… other room.

This is where I… I struggle with this bit. I struggle even thinking about it. There was a screen. I’m not gonna say what was on the screen. My head and my fingers got hooked up to this… thing, and it was like some sci-fi Frankenstein sorta shit. I half-expected some aliens to walk in and start probing me.

Then… yeah. I got through it. I’m sorry. I can’t fucking say the shit that happened, but I went in that room and then I came out, and I didn’t see Kathy, or any other psychologist person. None of the people in white coats even looked at me. It was just those two fucking guards.

They brought me back here and I spent a good hour just sitting still, staring at the wall, biting my knuckles. Then I stopped because I didn’t want them to think I was crazy and throw me back in the other room. This is my route to freedom, after all. That’s what Kathy said.

I get it now, though. What Kathy was saying, and Helen. I get it. I still don’t fucking know why I’m here, but I guess I could have a guess. It can’t be true, though. It can’t be. I don’t know. I’m just waiting, now. I don’t even know if I passed the fucking assessment. There was no score at the end; no one appeared to tell me ‘congrats, now get the fuck out of here’. Just nothing. The door opened and the guards unhooked me and pulled me out.

I think I’m still in shock.

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