Confined

Rolled from one end of the bed to another. I struggled with the sheets. Or I thought I did. It got harder to breathe. My eyes snapped open. I was panting profusely like I had run a marathon. Face flushed, cold sweats dripped down my back, stood on my forehead, and rolled down my eyes. No, wait. They were tears. I jerked up from the bed. Headed for the bathroom. The water splashed on my face and gradually eased my pounding heart. Brushing my teeth. I tried to recall. What must I have dreamt that frightened me so? I asked myself. Tried as hard as possible to recall. Bits and pieces came together. I was with Dad, Mom, and Lydia, at Central Park having a picnic. Smiles were seen on everyone's faces and laughter radiated. I got off to grab something. What was it? It didn’t matter. When I turned back towards them, they were gone! Disappeared from the face of the earth. Fear crept in. I called out for them, ran across the park as I screamed for them. But there was no sight of them. Not even one of them. The day got dark, a vast contrast to the moments ago. I sat helpless on a park bench under a flickering light. I felt lost, cold and tired.   

Dad. I cried out, voice cracked. Despite a couple of months has passed, it was hard to deal with him gone. He was there through all my highs and lows, but I couldn't see him even for the last time. All because of this stupid place. That fuelled my already agitated heart towards there. Tears slide down my cheeks slowly, then picked up pace. It continued for a while. Wiping my face, I sighed. Might as well shower. I whispered to myself. I did that a lot. Speaking to myself. I was my only companion.  

Out from the shower, water trickled down my body and hair. My gaze scanned the room. It was a small room with a single bed, single-door wardrobe, a small table and chair I used for eating, an air vent in the ceiling that let out periodic mechanical fan noises, a student-studying table, and another chair. Plain bathroom comprised a toilet seat, hand washing sink, and a mirror, and the least favorite of all, the mental door, my enemy. The solid metal door that separated me from my family and freedom has a slide at its bottom. The slide served as the passage for food and some basic supplies. There was also where I got the fate of my father. Just a few words on a white A4 paper. Sorry for your loss. Mr. Miles 1995-2021.

I dressed up idly. There was less to dress from, no purpose to dress for. I wasn't going anywhere. I thought. "How long was I locked up here?" I didn’t know. From tally marks scattered across sheets of papers all over the study table, it should be over half a year or more. I could find out exactly how long by counting them. But I feared getting the actual figures. Confirming that I had stayed longer than I imagined. Heck, I was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Not knowing how much longer I would stay imprisoned or how long before my mind snapped.  

I walked over to the wall beside my bed and gave it a knock. No response. I immediately felt a nagging feeling that something might be wrong. I and my 'neighbor' from the other side, usually knock at each other's walls. It was a way of communication with another human aside from myself, a way to cope with this place. I haven't heard from my neighbor for a while, I knew I won't hear from him or maybe her again. I couldn't tell how I knew, I just do. It stemmed from my gut. From the occasional patrolling guards then, I overheard that someone, one of us... died. Didn’t get any names. Secretly, I hoped it wasn't my friends. That was selfish of me but I already lost my father, it would have been nerve-racking to lose anyone else while I am still here. I prayed every day that James and Sandra will be alright. 

Prior to the confinement to that pathetic place, I and a team of fifteen lab scientists were engaged in a project of playing with cell manipulation. After combining and separating some specimen and chemical components, we arrived at a substance that we called FS-352. The substance spiked cell growth, thus aided in the rapid wound healing, and also increased the intelligence of the lab rat that was used for the experiments. We were excited. It seemed we achieved the next big thing. Ugh. What a great idea. But the experiment took a dramatic turn. The once gentle and harmless rat displayed aggressiveness and displayed threatening behaviors. Sandra, James, and I quickly stood to stop the experiment. But our minor votes were clearly over throned in the face of fame and recognition. Something tragic happened. The rat figured out a way of opening its cage; told you it got smart. And then it launched attacks on us. Most of us got bitten, scratched, or both. The news on the incident got to the higher-ups almost immediately. We dreaded the worst. That led to the isolation of me and the rest in separate rooms in the facility's bunkers. We were now observed as lab rats. Ha. What a joke! 

Life there was a monotone cycle. Eat, sleep, doodle on papers, shower, and repeat. At first, I tried keeping a Journal. Not being a journal person, I gave up pretty quickly. Attempted workout and gave up after a week of a couple of benches here and there with a few squats. Everything felt like a chore that consumed lots of energy. I often passed time with the thought of Lydia, my daughter. I got depressed. Thoughts of ending my life came. But what about my poor Lydia? She grew up without a father. It would be cruel if she loses her mother too. My sweet little girl was the reason I kept waking up each day. Her cute hazel eyes, plum rosy cheeks, long chestnut hair that is usually in ponytails wearing her favorite blue-flowered dress, motivated me to live through each day. She kept me alive in my darkest moment. 

On that fateful day, heavy guard footsteps thundered down the hall. Thought it was the usual stop to deliver stationery or food, I thought little of it. My indifference soon turned to thrilling excitement as the guard lingered not only by the door, but I also heard keys jingling. I was in a perplexed fit. Anxiety, fear, hope, all emotions were mixed. At the moment the door swung open, tears ran down my eyes immediately. Those were tears of joy. A man fully clothed in PPE From head to toe stood in front of me.  

Miss. Lena Miles step out of your confinement, please. Your Isolation is over. Proceed to the disinfection unit. To get disinfected, then you are free to go home. He said in a commanding tone. As we walked past my supposed neighbor's room, I wanted to ask what happened to the person there; the words didn't leave my mouth. I don't think I wanted to know. 

From the guards, I learned the rat exploded because of the uncontrollable rate of cell multiplication. And others that were bitten by it also had a shift in character and appearance. This forced the guards to eliminate them. I was one of the few that didn't get infected or changed by that thing. Sandra and James didn't make it. I got disheartened and said a brief prayer for them. 

Roughly 20 minutes later, I was released. At the gate, I turned and looked around this familiar and yet strange place that has taken so many people's life including those of my friends. I absolutely won't miss this place one bit. Gazed up, the sky was so blue; the sun was bright and made my pale skin feel warm. I was released after a year. For the first time in a long time, I thanked God. I was alive.   

The end.