Five Seconds of Freedom

Hezzlie

Dr. Bolton walks me back to my room. I carry the back in my hand, a thousand questions pouring through my mind. I ask none of them.

What the fuck is going on?

When we reach my room, he says, “I’ll be back in about ten minutes. Is that enough time?”

I nod. He pats my shoulder and walks away.

Slipping inside my room, I get dressed. The door has to remain ajar or else I’ll get the booty juice, but I don’t even care anymore. I remember how much longer it used to take me to get ready to go anywhere, back when I was in the real world. Now, I can be ready in less than a minute.

I pull a pair of designer jeans and a pink sweater out of the bag. The sweater is so soft, I think it must be cashmere. I run my hand over the fabric and look back toward the door. I still don’t know what’s happening. There are also a matching set of panties and a bra in pink silk, a pair of new socks, and some designer shoes.

Part of me thinks this is a dream, but I know I’m awake because I can feel the port in my arm and the pang in my stomach from not getting enough to eat. I hurriedly put the clothes on, folding my sweats, and sit on the edge of the bed. My ankle monitor feels weird with my socks on since these are tighter, but I’ll get used to it.

Dr. Bolton said we were leaving–but he didn’t say where we are going. If it’s a place where I’m allowed to dress like this–with zippers and buttons–it can be located on the moon for all I care.

Still, something seems off about this situation. I wonder if Dr. Turner has approved this. What if Dr. Bolton has secretly fallen in love with me and is taking me away to his house? I lift a hand to my hair, and it is instantly tangled in a bird’s nest. No, that’s not it.

What if Dr. Bolton wants to sell me as a sex slave? Is that a thing that happens to girls from institutions? Do people who use sex slaves care if they are crazy? At least, if they put me in a dog cage, no one will care if I act like I think I’m a wolf.

“You’re one sick bitch, Hezzlie,” I mutter.

A form appears in the doorway. I turn and look at Dr. Turner and think he’s about to put the kibosh on all of this when he says, “I hear you’re leaving us, Ms. Stone.”

I stand, but I don’t approach him. Nodding, I say, “I guess so.”

“Good. I hope you’ll like your new facility. I hear good things about it from Dr. Bolton.” He doesn’t smile. In fact, he looks irritated–like I am one of his trained monkeys for the circus that is about to escape.

He’s probably just upset that he’ll be losing money until he finds another nutjob to fill my bed.

Before I can make another sound, Dr. Bolton shows up. “Are you ready, Hezzlie?”

I dart toward him. “Yes, sir.”

He makes a face like he’s never heard me call him that before. Maybe I haven’t. “All right then. Let’s go.” He’s carrying a bag that I assume has his laptop in it and probably my folder. It seems pretty empty, but then his office has never been full of much.

Dr. Turner reluctantly extends a hand. “Pleasure working with you, Bolton.”

“Same.” They shake, and I feel the tension in the air. Does Dr. Turner see Dr. Bolton as a thief who has taken away one of his perfectly good crazy girls?

We turn and walk down the hallway, but a thought enters my mind. “Is there any chance I can say goodbye to my friends?”

Dr. Bolton doesn’t look at me. “I’m afraid not. Your new facility is expecting us.”

I let out a sigh that turns into a whimper as I picture Mia and Kayla. I hope someone will be able to tell them goodbye for me, but I doubt anyone who knows I’m leaving will bother. Maybe I’ll see them again one day–when we’re all back to our normal lives.

If that ever happens.

I’m not going home, after all. I’m going to another facility. Both doctors just confirmed that.

We walk through a set of doors that requires Dr. Bolton to use his ID, and my ankle monitor starts to vibrate. “What about this?” I ask him, pulling up my pant leg a bit.

“We’ll stop at the front desk to have them take it off. I have another one for you in my bag. One for your new place.”

“Okay.” Disappointment settles in my gut. I have a feeling I’m not going to like this new place anymore.

The lady at the front desk doesn’t say anything to me as she uses a special tool to remove my monitor. She tells Dr. Bolton goodbye and winks at him. He shakes his head like he doesn’t want that kind of attention and we head for the door.

I step outside into the autumn air and take a deep breath. While we do have outside time, it’s on fake grass in a small area surrounded by high walls with no trees. But here, I can see the horizon. I can see tall buildings in the distance. A bird flutters by. The wind stirs the leaves on a maple, causing one of them to break free and flutter toward me.

An idea crosses my mind. I don’t have the new monitor on yet. I could take off. Dr. Bolton is a grown ass man, but I’m fast. I could bolt between the trees and be gone–

“Right this way, Hezzlie,” he says, taking me by the wrist. I see a large black SUV parked next to the curb and assume that’s where we are going.

A man dressed in black slacks and a white button up gets out and opens the back door for me. Dr. Bolton greets him but doesn’t say his name.

The car is nice and smells like leather. I climb in, but Dr. Bolton grabs hold of my leg. “Let’s get this on.”

I bite back a grumble as he puts the new ankle monitor on. This one looks stealthy compared to the old one. New and sleek, it shines in the sun. I bet it works a hell of a lot better than that old piece of shit from Peripheral.

Lifting his head, Dr. Bolton says, “We’ll be driving for several hours. You should get some rest.”

“Where are we going?” Suddenly, I realize I have no idea if my mother even knows I’m being transferred.

“It’s a place in the mountains. You’ll like it.” He forces a smile. I can tell it’s not his natural grin.

My eyebrows furrow. “What about my mom?”

“Don’t worry. I spoke to her myself.” That’s true. I know when he’s being honest with me.

“And she was okay with it?”

He hesitates. “She understands.” That one lies somewhere between the truth and a lie. “It’ll be all right, Hezzlie.”

He closes my door, and I hear it lock. I pull the handle, just to see if anything happens, but it doesn’t budge.

Dr Bolton gets in the passenger seat, and the other man gets behind the wheel. As we pull away, I look back at Peripheral, hoping I never, ever see this hellhole again.

As we drive, I concentrate on my hair. I’m out in the real world now, at least for a while. I’d like for it to look like I at least give a damn what I look like. Eventually, the city gives way to open fields, pastures, and then hills. By the time we are on the outskirts of the mountains, I’m nearly asleep. No one has said a word to anyone for hours.

The closer we get to our destination, the more tense I begin to feel. It’s like I’m a dog on high alert with one paw in the air. We creep into the mountains, and that voice I’ve been ignoring for months starts up. “What the fuck are we doing here? This isn’t right!”

I don’t know what to do, so I stay quiet, fighting the urge to attempt to break the glass and escape.

We wind up a road lined with ancient trees covered in vines, and I am reminded of the forest in my dreams–the ominous one. The voice in my head fills with panic that I need to get out of here. This is a bad place.

When we approach a tall iron gate, it opens automatically, and the SUV rolls through. In the distance, I see a massive building that might be an old mansion–or it might be another facility similar to Peripheral. The vehicle pulls to a stop in front of it, and I know this is where I’m going to stay.

I take a deep breath as my eyes roam over the gray stone surface of the huge dwelling. The porch stretches for yards and is flanked by large pillars. On the ends of each side sit enormous marble carvings–of wolves.

I swallow hard as Dr. Bolton gets out of the SUV and opens my door. Before I can even make myself move to slide out, I meet his eyes. “You said I’d like it here.”

He bites his bottom lip. “Sorry, Hezzlie. I lied.”