Young Writers Society

"So, I suppose you're wondering why I called you here."

Dr Sullivan's orotund voice resounds off the hollow, ivory walls, saturating the room. At the far end, a lacquered, oak bureau is positioned centrally between the two opposite walls, a plush, leather chair stationed behind it. Sheaves of paper are neatly organised in separate piles across the bureau and a large pot of ink pens is situated in the upper right hand corner. Squashed into each corner at that end are two metal filing cabinets, most likely bursting with manila folders and medical notes. In front of the bureau, a cream, plastic chair cowers below its large form, foreshadowing anyone's encounter with the chief doctor. Embellishing the plain walls are large, framed diagrams of the human anatomy, various glossaries of medical terms and instructions on how to treat different diagnostics. The images craft a hint of charisma for the room, preventing it from becoming entirely drab. Save the bureau, chair and filing cabinets, the room is as bare as the back of my hand.

Dr Sullivan strides out in front of me, heading straight towards his bureau. Just before he sits down in his leather chair, he gestures for me to take a seat in the plastic chair. Accepting his invitation with a slight narrowing of my eyes, I fold my arms and place one leg over the other. The second I'm seated somewhat comfortably, Dr Sullivan sits down opposite me. He clears his throat and directs his gaze straight at me, his eyes demanding an answer to his statement.

"Indeed, I am a little curious about this summoning."

Dr Sullivan relaxes back in his chair, a solemn expression etched into the furrows of his features. "And am I right in thinking you haven't the slightest idea why I have called you here?"

"That is correct."

"Do you remember what happened yesterday?"

My heart almost skips a beat.

"I'm sorry, I don't quite understand the question."

"Yesterday, your evening meal was delayed. Does that ring a bell?"

"Oh, that. Yes, I remember now." I retain eye contact with him. Any sudden movement will arouse suspicion.

"Were you told why your meal was late?"

"Only that there was an incident in the kitchen but that the details of it were classified information."

"Did you think that was fair?"

"Pardon?"

"Did you think that it was fair on you to be sheltered from knowing what really happened?" Dr Sullivan's tone grows subtly sterner. It's almost impossible to detect unless you're listening as intently as I am.

"Well..." I hesitate. His eyes bore into mine, seeking out the truth with a ravenous hunger for answers. He'll know if I lie. "No, I didn't believe it was fair. I didn't want to be kept from learning what had occurred."

"I see." Dr Sullivan pauses, considering his next attack. Every word he speaks is judiciously selected, each syllable causing its own, cruel impact.

"I'm sorry, but I'm still fairly confused as to why I'm here. If you wanted someone's opinion on what happened yesterday, there are many other girls in my dormitory who-"

"Where were you between six o'clock and half past six yesterday evening?"

The question stabs straight through me. An instant burst of adrenaline corrupts my calm, relaxed body, triggering the onset of heart palpitations. I fight back the urge to squirm in my seat.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Where were you between six o'clock and half past six yesterday evening?" Dr Sullivan leans forward, austerity lacing his words together.

"I was in my dormitory, waiting to be told when we could collect our evening meal."

"Really?" His voice switches from severe to sarcastic, eyebrows raised and issuing a challenge. Reaching down underneath his desk, he withdraws a small, rectangular screen, emblazoned with the reflection of the ceiling. He places it gently on top of the desk and pushes it in my direction. His index finger slips down its side and presses down on a small piece that juts out. The screen comes to life.

Leaning forward, my heart sinks as I recognise the video playing. Not only is the background familiar, but the person it exhibits is a complete stranger. A stranger, who I call myself. I slip into the pharmacy through the side door and in the bottom left hand corner of the screen, the time is displayed as just gone six o'clock. Dr Sullivan taps the screen, pausing the video.

"Where did you get this?"

"Hundreds of CCTV cameras are hidden around the Sanctuary, watching everybody's movements. Unfortunately, we have no CCTV inside the pharmacy, therefore, we're relying on your word."

"Right." My reply comes through gritted teeth.

"Is this, or is this not, a video of you entering the pharmacy at six-oh-two in the evening?"

"Yes." My eyes lock with his, determined to stare him out.

"What were you doing in the pharmacy?"

"I forgot to take my medication back with me after work. I'm terribly forgetful so it happens a lot." I play the innocent card carefully like I'm taking delicate steps across a creaky floorboard. One wrong step and the sound of dishonesty will awaken his inner demon.

"If it was only your medication you went back for, then why are you seen leaving fifteen minutes later? Surely it doesn't take that long to find where it's kept?"

"Well, as you know, everyone's medication is stored in numerical order. However, when I found where my medicine should've been, it wasn't there. So, I had to go searching through all of them from the beginning to try and find it. Most likely somebody had put it in the wrong place."

"Hmm." Dr Sullivan's eyes narrow. "Now, a passer-by of the pharmacy yesterday evening heard somebody gasp from inside there. Was that you, or had you brought someone else with you?"

"That was me when I realised that I'd left my medication in the storage room at the back where I keep my belongings when I'm working." The lies flow effortlessly from my lips, almost deceiving myself. "So, if you fast-forward that video to the time I left the pharmacy, you'll notice a white paper bag clutched in my hand. That's my medication and that's my evidence." Folding my arms, I relax back in my seat, the hint of a smile playing at my lips. "Was that all?"

Dr Sullivan shoots me a cold glare. "Get out."

"Happily."

Standing up, I turn on my heel and stride out of his office, allowing the door to slam shut. Pulling the surgical mask back over my lips, I lean my back against the wall and take a moment to breathe. Alone, my hands are trembling and my heart is thudding against my chest. Closing my eyes, I focus on my breathing, dimly aware of the other doctors and nurses passing by every so often.

"How'd it go?"

Opening my eyes, I glance to my side to see Kit grinning at me. "Terrible."

"Spill the beans."

On the way towards the main hall, I fill Kit in on every detail about my meeting with Dr Sullivan. Unfortunately, I am unsuccessful in making him laugh but at the same time, he hasn't cracked me up either. The bet is still on. When we pass through the double doors and into the hall, we stop walking and I remove the surgical mask from concealing my mouth.

"So that's why it was so terrible."

"And did he literally throw you out?"

"He literally threw me out. He spat the words through gritted teeth. I swear I had no idea what made him so angry. I might've been a little sarcastic but that wouldn't have got me kicked out of his office."

Kit shakes his head in disbelief, grinning. "I wish I'd been there to see it."

"I'm sure if you had, I'd have won the bet. Your sides would be splitting from too much laughter."

"Naomi!"

Turning my head in the direction of the voice, I catch sight of Val marching towards me. Behind her glasses, her eyes are lit up with excitement. A wire-bound notebook is tucked under her arm and there's a spring in her step. I turn back to face Kit.

"Well, I best be off." He begins to walk away. "Catch you later."

"See you." I give him a little wave before glancing in the opposite direction to find Val right in front of me. "What's up?"

"I've been doing a little snooping and..." She retrieves the notebook from under her arm and flicks through the pages until she reaches one near back, which is completely covered in scribbled notes and jottings. "His name is Zach and his number is 047415."

"Who?"

"The person that died."

Grabbing Val's hand, I drag her over to the corner away from the crowds milling around, waiting in line at the reception or picking up their medication.

"Where did you get this information?" I hiss.

"I did a little enquiry with one of the boys whilst waiting for my daily injection," Val explains, a small smile rising to her lips. I could’ve sworn I saw her cheeks turn slightly pink as well. "Zach slept in the dormitory with the seventeen-year-old boys. According to...Adam, I think his name was, Zach was there yesterday morning, left for work in the afternoon and never came back."

"Is that it?"

Val frowns. "You really think I'd go to all that trouble just to learn that?"

I open my mouth to argue that it took no effort just to have a conversation with someone in your division but Val continues before I get the chance to speak.

"Zach was one of the quiet ones. He kept himself to himself and only spoke when he was spoken to. He shared a bunk with this guy called Craig but he vanished a couple of years back. Anyway, Adam said that Zach had been acting kind of weird for a few weeks prior to yesterday."

"What do you mean by acting weird?"

Val lowers her voice. "Some guys in their dormitory heard him speaking in his sleep. Apparently, he kept saying 'Victor' over and over again?"

"Victor." I frown. "The name doesn't ring a bell. Do you know who that is?"

"Not a clue. When nobody was watching, I typed his name into the computer at the reception during my break. It came up with nothing."

"That's impossible. Unless Victor means winner."

"That's what I thought, but it's most likely untrue. Victor has got to be the name of someone who's either here now, or who's been here in the past."

"Then what are we going to do about it?"

Val sighs. "I honestly don't know. But you can't tell a soul. Not even Renee or Lana or Jas right now."

"When are we going to tell them?"

"This evening, when nobody is about to pry on us. It's absolutely crucial nobody else knows."

"Okay." I glance up to the large clock ticking away just above the reception. "I best go to work. I'll catch up with you later."

Val nods, starting to head in the direction of the dormitories. "Don't tell anyone."

"I won't." Nodding my head, I stride over towards the pharmacy.

We're so deep into this mess, I have no idea how we're going to get out.