z

Young Writers Society


16+ Language

Of Illnesses And Antidotes - Chapter Eight

by KayLou1609


Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for language.

"I'm booking you in for a CT scan. Two weeks is not enough for those axons to have healed."

"But my arm feels fine," I protest, frowning at Doctor Stewart. "Surely that means they've healed? If I can’t feel any pain then why would they not be fixed?"

"Maybe you’re right, but I'd rather have a CT scan taken so we know for sure, than you have a paralysed arm for the rest of your life. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I…guess."

Doctor Stewart flashes a smile at me then spins around on her chair to face her computer. Her fingers tap against the keys, the rhythmic thrum pounding in my ears. I swing my legs over the side of the chair. A sudden stabbing pain knifes through my shoulder and a small yelp flees from my mouth. Clutching my shoulder, I massage it gently then peel my fingers away to reveal the tiny speck of the blood - the tiny incision mark. Glancing up, I catch sight of Doctor Stewart looking at me, her brow furrowed in concern.

“You okay?”

“Just hurt a bit.” I smile ruefully. “I’ve never liked needles, you know that.”

“Mmhmm.” She tears a sheet of paper from the jaws of her printer and hands it to me. “5:40pm today. Go straight to the reception and someone will escort you to the CT room.”

“Will it be long?”

“Ten, fifteen minutes, something like that. My advice: just lie really still and pretend you’re asleep in bed. It’ll be over before you can pronounce that goddamned mess of gibberish that’s the reason for your CT.”

“I thought doctors could pronounce anything?”

Dr Stewart smiles wryly at me. “Trust me, if I could, my salary would be a lot higher than it is.”

Smiling warmly, I thank Doctor Stewart then leave the room, the piece of paper clasped in my fist, crumpled and creased; nothing more than a scrap of rubbish.

***

“Well, hello again.”

My eyes flit up from my lap. I smile, arching an eyebrow. “Afternoon to you, too.”

“Ready for your scan?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Standing up, I stuff my hands into the pockets of my jumpsuit and follow Kit towards the CT room.

“Are you sure your whatchamacallits are even injured?”

“Huh?”

Kit grins, an air of playfulness flaring up in his eyes. “Are you sure you’re not just having this scan as an excuse to see me again?”

“Oh definitely,” I reply dryly. “Because I totally stabbed a needle exactly where those wretched axons are just so I could see your repulsive face one more time.”

“Repulsive? Bit harsh, don’t you think?”

“Is ghastly any better?”

“A wee bit.” Kit nudges me in my side, grinning mischievously. “You love having me as an escort, don’t you?”

“It’s a dream come true.”

We pass through a second set of double doors and suddenly, the atmosphere turns chilly. An icy sensation creeps up my spine and sends a series of tingles tumbling back down. The walls are drab and bleak, the ceiling seems to cave in on us and the floor is plain and cold to the touch, even through the soles of my shoes. I wrap my arms around my chest, savouring every single drop of body heat I have left.

Veering sharply down a narrow corridor, Kit draws to a halt beside a door just as dull, save the plain wooden plaque that declares its purpose and a small panel of glass misted with grime. Peering in through the window, I manage to distinguish a figure. Two figures. And a strange-looking machine. Swallowing back a lump in my throat, I look back to Kit. He squeezes my arm.

“You’ll be fine,” he reassures me. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. And I’ll be waiting right here until you’re done.” Forcing a smile, I knock on the door then slip into the room.

The room is almost completely pitch black. It is bathed in a dim glow from up above and the computers inside the control room cast a glare onto the chairs, but apart from that, I feel blind. Naked. My skin is itching; ants are crawling all over me. One of the figures, a kindly faced woman who is slightly plumper than the other, gestures for me to sit on the bed. She hands me a plastic cup, half-filled with a liquid, tinged slightly yellow.

“Drink it,” she instructs me, gently. “It helps us see your results better. Don’t worry, it’s not that bad. It’s not going to kill you or anything.”

I resist the urge to laugh. If she had any idea…

Raising the cup to my lips, I swallow the liquid in one gulp. It leaves a mildly unpleasant residue inside my mouth but it quickly fades once I lie down. The nerves kick in as a replacement. My heart thuds against my chest. Harder. Faster. Louder. Breathing deeply, I cling to the sides of the bed as its mechanism gently pushes it underneath the scanner.

“Lie really still, please. Close your eyes if it helps.” Her voice ricochets off one wall to the next, vibrating in my ears as a loud, angry buzzing.

I shut my eyes tight. What did Dr Stewart say? Pretend you’re asleep in bed. Right.

My body freezes in my position. All that moves is my chest, gently rising up and down, up and down. Everything is quiet. Silent as the depth of the midnight hour. But, my brain is alive. Alert and whirring, thinking, turning over thought after thought, idea after idea. I see Doctor Warren in four days. Can we really wait that long? What if something happens within those four days? Anything could change, anyone could let slip an almost undetectable detail about our knowledge.

“Can you please stop moving, Miss? Try and relax, you’re halfway there.”

I slump back into the bed. Subconsciously, I had been fidgeting. Squirming with apprehension. Pushing the thoughts to the back of my mind, I focus on nothing else but the time ticking by, second by second. One…two…three…

“Okay, Miss, you can open your eyes. We have your results.”

Jolting upwards, I blink several times and adjust my eyes to the surrounding darkness. Climbing off the bed, I follow one of the nurses into the control room. They show me the computer screen. Displayed on it, are several pictures of what appears to be my shoulder, fragmented into each individual muscle and bone and tendon. But, more significantly, it exhibits images of long, thread-like fibres, running down my arm like snakes, chasing their prey. The axons.

“Are…are they alright?”

The nurses both turn to look at me, their faces blank, eliminated of any clues.

“Well, they’re healing pretty well,” the shorter one begins, “but they’ll need at least another week to heal fully.”

“So what?”

“So no strenuous exercise or anything that involves bearing heavy weight upon your arm,” the other one instructs. She is taller, leaner and tight-lipped. Her skin is pale and her eyes are cold, like plain beads of ice. A sharply cut bob of dark hair envelops the back of her head like a cloak. “Therefore, no more morning runs for at least a week. Your results will be published and filed in your medical folder and the information will be communicated to the main doctors. Clear?”

“Crystal.”

“If you have any worries, don’t hesitate to consult your doctors. They’ll refer you for another scan if necessary,” the plump nurse adds, smiling warmly at me.

“Thanks.” I return the smile, then cast a lingering frosty glare in the direction of the taller nurse. Her expression turns sour.

Swiftly, I leave the room before she can utter a word, joining Kit outside.

“Alright?”

I nod my head. “Let’s go.”

“So.” Kit smiles at me as we trudge down the corridor. “Doing anything nice tonight?”

I frown at him, raising a sceptical eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. What do you like to do in the evenings?”

“Not much. I’m not a big fan of reading and I always lose at cards. Probably just sleeping, to be honest.”

“Really? I always thought you were into books.” His tone is full of surprise.

I shake my head. “Never have been. Why, do I look like the bookish type?”

“I tell you what type you do look like.”

His cheeky grin is enough to make me resist from punching him harder. Nevertheless, I successfully withdraw a pained yelp from within.

“So, what are you up to tonight?”

“Well, that’s kind of why I asked you.”

Stopping in my tracks, I swing around to face him. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Kit scratches his head, smiling sheepishly. “There’s this um…dance on tonight – for the older ones, it’s this tradition thing, I think - and um…I was wondering…”

“If I’d go with you?”

“Well, yeah.”

I pretend to think about it for a second. “I don’t know, I mean, I do love my sleep…”

“So your bed is more important now?” Kit feigns a pained expression. “How could you? How could you leave me all by myself?” He sighs. “Well, I guess I’ll be dancing with the mop out of the cleaning cupboard then. I’m sure that’ll appreciate me more than you do.”

Bemused, I grin and grab his arm, dragging him down the corridor. “Come on, you lazy oaf, or else we won’t be out of here by the time the dance starts.”

Shoving my side against the double doors, we stride out into the main hall. Odd people mill about here and there but it’s mainly empty. And quiet. Very quiet. Almost as quiet as the CT room. Pausing outside the reception, Kit unlatches the side door then turns around to face me.

“I’ll meet you in here at seven by the serving hatch. Okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Flashing a smile, I twist around on my heel and head off towards the dormitory.

Upon entering, the chatter dissipates into an icy silence. Dozens of pairs of eyes glance in my direction, stare at me for a moment or two then flit back to what they were originally looking at. A few sighs break out through the hush, which triggers the noise level to increase again. Baffled, I head over to my bunk and hoist myself up onto Renee’s bed. She barely acknowledges my arrival and continues to read her book.

“How was your scan?”

“Alright. Didn’t hurt a bit, but I had to swallow this awful liquid before I had the scan. You have no idea how vile it was.” I pull a face. “How’s life been here?”

Renee’s book slams shut and she looks up at me gravely. “Jen’s missing.”

“What?”

“She didn’t come back here at five and she hasn’t been seen since her daily injection this morning. Her friends are worried sick.” Renee casts a glance in the direction of a huddle of girls, their faces pale and stricken with woe.

“You don’t think…”

Renee nods her head solemnly. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I think. And I’m pretty sure they know it too.” She jabs her thumb in the direction of Jen’s friends. “They’re just scared of admitting the truth. I would be as well, to be honest, if it were you or…” She sniffs and wipes her nose with her sleeve. “Anyway…” She picks up her book and flicks through the pages.

“I’m going to a dance tonight.”

Renee’s head snaps up and she gawks at me. “You what?”

“Kit invited me to a dance with him.”

“Who’s Kit?”

“The guy who escorted me to the scan. And to Doctor Sullivan. And to-“

“What sort of dance is it?”

“No idea.”

“Then why are you going?”

“I…I don’t know. Do I need to know? I guess maybe I thought it would take my mind off things, you know?”

Renee’s face lights up with a smile. A sly-looking smile. “You do know what this means, right?”

I frown. “What?”

She flips her book around. Splayed out across the cover is a picture of a couple dancing. The man is dressed in black and white with a red bowtie threaded around his neck. The woman dazzles in a glittering red gown that matches the colour of her lips, the skirt billowing out in every direction like plumes of smoke. “It means that we’ve got to find you a dress.”

“A dress? Where am I going to get a dress from? We have two outfits only, both of which are white jumpsuits.” I point to the dress in Renee’s book. “Nothing here is as colourful as that.”

“Really?” Renee smirks, shaking her head. “Come on, we need Val.”

“Why?”

Renee leaps down from her bunk and glances up at me. “Why do you think? If anyone knows where we can steal a ball gown fit for a princess, it’s gonna be Val.”

Baffled, I reluctantly follow Renee towards the door. She opens it, then a second later, Val appears in the doorway, her head in a book. She glances up and smiles at us.

“Hey, guys. You going somewhere?”

“Naomi needs a dress.”

Val frowns, closing her book slowly. “For what?”

“She’s going to a dance with one of the seniors.”

“Is she now?” Val smirks at me, winking. “Well, I know just the place where we can find you something to wear.”

My smile broadens. “Perfect. Let’s go.”

“There’s one small problem though.”

The smile drops off my face faster than the beating of a butterfly’s wings. “What?”

“The dance is traditionally for seniors only unless of course you’ve been invited by one, therefore the costume cupboard is strictly prohibited for anyone other than a senior or an adult. They won’t let you in.”

“Well, we’ll just have to sneak in then.” I put my hands on my hips and smile confidently. “We’re getting in there whether they like it or not.”

Val grins. “Let’s go then.” Turning on her heel, she strides down the corridor, swiftly pursued by Renee and me.

“Where exactly are we going?” Renee queries, struggling to keep up with Val’s pace.

“Ah, that’s a surprise.” Val smiles, tapping her nose secretively.

“How do you even know where this costume cupboard is?”

“The senior girls have been discussing it for weeks on end at the reception.” Val rolls her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “It gets kind of annoying listening to them drool over their partners and their dresses day after day. Like, it’s just a dance. There’s nothing special about it.”

We take a sharp right towards where the laboratories are, but just before heading through the doors, Val veers to the right again and leads us down a short corridor. At the end of the corridor, there’s a dark oak door, slightly ajar, with a shaft of bright light spilling out from the crack. Glancing to Renee, she shrugs, and we hurry on after Val. She opens the door wider to reveal a large, spacious room. Yet, most of the space in the room has been taken up with dozens of racks of clothing. From fancy ball gowns to smart tuxedos, this room has it all. Every rack is arranged by colour order, and my eyes are instantly drawn to the gorgeous golden gowns in the far corner.

“They’re beautiful,” I breathe. I run my fingers through the silky materials and an instant burst of happiness brings a wide smile to my lips.

“I wish I was going,” Renee whispers enviously. “You lucky bitch, Naomi. You lucky, lucky bitch.”

“Hey!”

My heart sinks as I recognise the voice. Gulping, the three of us turn around to greet Miss Fraser, matron of the boys’ dormitories. Her tall, thin figure descends upon us like a bad omen. She stares at us through sharp, narrowed eyes, and a bob of thick, dark hair cloaks her pale face.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She demands, glowering at us with her piercing eyes.

“We were just getting a dress for Naomi,” Val responds truthfully and calmly. “She’s been invited to the seniors’ dance this evening and-“

“The seniors’ dance is for seniors only,” Miss Fraser says coldly. “There’s not the slightest chance Naomi here received a legitimate invitation, and even if she did, I’m sure it was a prank. Now be on with you. Curfew is in ten minutes, so you better hurry or you’ll be in even more trouble.”

Reluctantly, I follow Renee and Val back to our dormitory. I trail behind them sullenly, my resentment towards Miss Fraser growing stronger by the second. I sigh. Maybe she was right. Maybe Kit was joking and I fell for it. I’d literally just met him the day before, so it’s not as if I’d known him long.

“Hey, cheer up.”

Glancing up, I greet Renee’s cheerful face. I smile weakly. “I’m sorry guys. Miss Fraser was right - he was probably joking anyway.”

“Don’t you dare think that!” Val tuts, shaking her head at me. “You’re going to that dance whether you or Miss Fraser like it or not.”

“Well, I can’t go in this!” I gesture towards my creased jumpsuit. “I’ll look a fool compared to all the other girls in those beautiful gowns.”

“No, you won’t because we’re getting you a gown!” Val says firmly. She stops in her tracks to face me. “You head on with Renee to the dormitory and I’ll catch you guys up. There’s something I have to do first.” Before either of us can object, Val disappears through the doors to the main hall.

“What is she up to?” I murmur to myself, glancing to Renee.

She shrugs, shaking her head. “Not a clue.” She starts in the direction of the dormitory. “Come on, before we’re moaned at for breaking the curfew. Besides, Val can look after herself. She’s smarter than us and the twins put together one million times over.”

I nod my head in agreement and we carry on towards the dormitory. Glancing over my shoulder, I take a lingering look in the direction of Val then turn my attention back to the front. Hopefully, she’ll sort this out. If there’s anyone I can rely on, it’s going to be Val.


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760 Reviews


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Fri Dec 29, 2017 8:29 pm
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ExOmelas wrote a review...



Hi there, I'm here to try and finally get this work out of the green room!

Nit-picks:

I massage it gently then peel my fingers away to reveal the tiny speck of the blood - the tiny incision mark

Repetition of "tiny" disrupts flow here. I know sometimes things like that are on purpose but I can't really tell here.

And I’ll be waiting right here until you’re done.” Forcing a smile, I knock on the door then slip into the room.

I think "forcing" should be the start of a new paragraph.

The nurses both turn to look at me, their faces blank, eliminated of any clues.

I don't think "eliminated of" makes sense... maybe "empty of"?

His cheeky grin is enough to make me resist from punching him harder.

I'm confused here. Wouldn't a cheeky grin make her want to punch him harder?

Overall:

Obviously I have a lot of questions because I haven't read the other chapters, but the one thing that I don't think would be answered by reading the rest of it is about Kit. I really don't get what she sees in Kit. He's constantly giving her unsolicited compliments, bigging himself up and generally being annoying. Like I said about that smile, I don't understand why these things don't repel Naomi from him. It's fine if there is a reason, you should just be aware that this is my immediate reaction so that you're able to have Naomi explain why she likes him. Maybe she likes the attention, or thinks he only does this because he's insecure or something.

The characters you've created are overall believable and engaging, which is good. Your setting seems interesting, though obviously there aren't that many explanations about what's going on, and rightly so, this far in, so I can't comment on that too much. But that does remind me...

Some of the times when you describe the room that Naomi walks into you give a description that's basically just a list of things in the room. It would be more engaging if you described some elements at first and then others when she actually interacted with them in the story. You're not infodump-y at any other times though, for some reason just when Naomi walks into rooms.

Sorry there's not too much praise here, just assume that everything I haven't picked up as something to work on is something you did broadly right. Normally I would comment on plot and character development but obviously I can't since I haven't read the rest. I'm just trying to get as much out of the GR as possible.

Last thing, this is quite a bit longer than works I usually review. I usually say about 2000ish is as much as you should really post at once. Of course the less you post the quicker you get reviews, because the more value it is for the reviewer, so the gradation on that scale is up to you. Of course, you can always post 3000 words and wait for some sucker like me to come along and click the "Oldest" tab in the green room :P

Hope this helps,
Biscuits :)




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Wed Nov 22, 2017 4:33 am
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rosette wrote a review...



*cringe*

This review is long overdue, and I am so sorry.
I don't know why I didn't see this chapter earlier...

But wow. Talk about a major plot change. I actually had to go back to the previous chapter and see where we left off. No mention was made of a CT scan or axons - what is this is all about? - but there was huge talk about Viktor so I was confused when this first began. For one, he's not even mentioned in here, and on another note, what about that autopsy she's supposed to be snitching? I feel a little bewildered.

But yay! A dance! Goodness, the more chapters you pop out the more you unveil about this facility and all it's goings-on. So they're separated into divisions sort of? Like, this dance is restricted to seniors. And hey, there are guys living in this place. They're not mentioned much, but they're still here.

A suggestion I have for when you go back and edit this first draft is maybe slipping in more details about the lifestyle of these people in the beginning, so it doesn't feel like you're throwing them all out on us later. I think that'd help show just what this facility is like, how severe and protective they may be (no one can leave), how ordered and uniform everything is (everyone has to wear jumpsuits), and much more insight. For example, I had no idea Naomi took a morning run until now, which I don't think sounds quite right considering we're already on chapter eight. We're getting deep in, yet I feel as if there's still so many factors concerning this place, setting, time, etc. that I am clueless on.

But back to the dance. :P
My only issue with this is it seems to take away from the mystery around Viktor. Like, we were focused on this, but Kit came along, asked her to it, and now we're going to focus on dresses and getting Naomi in. Unless... Naomi finds out something significant during this dance concerning Viktor.... Maybe some people know him...? I'm wondering just what you have planned here.

Poor Jen. Whatever happened to her? It might be because I haven't read this story in a couple weeks, but... I don't know why she disappeared! Everyone else seems to know, though. :o

You know, for all her years of being here, I still don't understand how Naomi never knew Kit! Surely he had to have been an escort for a while for him to know all his surroundings and such. I like him, though. He seems rather... impish. And Naomi's kind of coy. With him. They're interesting together.

I believe that is all I have to say for now.
Keep it up!
I'll see you next time. :)

~rosette <3





Is anyone else desperately waiting to see themselves in the quote gen?
— TheCursedCat