Chapter 25 Chapter 25 Once

I was discharged from the hospital in a wheelchair.It's not so much that I can't walk, it's more that people don't want me to walk.Because if I could walk, I'd run away.I couldn't actually run away at all, but no one seemed willing to take the risk. I am confused.My heart was confused and I was very scared.I told them what happened.I can't count how many times I've said it.But that didn't seem to be enough, and it made others very unhappy.I am also lonely.My parents visited me a few times in that small one-person ward, but the more I saw the smiling man, the less I saw them.And now I know that man is Dr. Peterson.

I was put into the back of a car that was part ambulance, part prison van.There was a bed like a trolley with a lot of equipment hanging from it, but the man who was pushing the wheelchair for me - always scowling and wearing an immaculate white shirt - pushed me up the ramp backwards and pushed the wheelchair to the other side. In a dedicated space on one side of the car wall.Hearing a series of clicks, he fixed the wheelchair.Right across from me, there are lots of rings in the very center of the bedside rail.A pair of handcuffs hung from one of the rings.It was at this time that I first felt an ice cube stuck in my chest.The door to my right slams shut, the engine starts, and I feel more ice pressing against my chest.What happened?

I twisted my neck and looked at the man.It's the only part of my body that I can move because I'm strapped to a wheelchair with a harness-like device.He sat in a small bucket seat, like a serious stewardess. "Where are we going?" I asked. I never asked any questions until this happened suddenly today.At this moment, I was still in bed, struggling to eat the lukewarm breakfast in the hospital; the next moment, I was in a wheelchair, quickly walked through the corridor, took the straight elevator downstairs, and walked through the lobby... "You're going to be transferred to another location." He kept looking at his watch as he spoke, avoiding eye contact with me.He was tense, and his rigid posture made me more and more uneasy.

"Oh," I said, "Why?" At this time the caretaker turned to look at me, but his eyes were wary and his expression was incomprehensible. "I don't know," he said. I don't believe him. "Where am I going to be transferred?" He turned his head away from me again, talking to the neatly folded sheets on the opposite bed. "When you arrive, Dr. Peterson will answer all your questions." Why don't you tell me now?I tried to breathe slowly, but it felt like there wasn't enough oxygen in the cramped space.I tug at the straps that hold my chest, but it's not because of the tightness in my chest.I looked at the doors, eagerly hoping they would open, but the wheelchair shook slightly with the car, and I knew it was still moving.

"How long will it take to arrive?" I asked, my voice was hoarse, my throat was choked, and it was difficult to speak. "Soon." The nurse said. This is the last time we speak.I don't have a watch on, so I can't tell how much time has passed.I had to pass the time by briskly tapping my knees with the fingers of my good hand.Even though it was bandaged, my other hand wanted to join in, but the strap was so tight that it hurt me so much that there was no room for me to move even a millimeter.I had no choice but to keep shaking my arms, which was enough. When the door finally opened, I barely had time to take a look at my surroundings when two men in the exact same uniform as the orderly in the car blocked my view.They went straight to the wheelchair and opened the fastenings on the side of the car.

"Did the trip go well?" one of them asked. Before I could answer, the attendant who accompanied me spoke. "It went well. All the documents were prepared by the court and he was discharged easily." court?What are they talking about? "What is this place?" I asked, hoping to turn my head to see what was going on outside the door.But they turned the wheelchair around and pushed me out of the car backwards, and ten seconds later a wide driveway came into view.There was a narrow, well-manicured lawn all around, but what caught my eye was a tall, strong metal fence with a sharp, menacing top.I took one look at this scary fence before they turned the wheelchair around and I finally saw the building.

The building doesn't look like a hospital, it's a bit like a school and a bit like an office building.There are many windows, but there is nothing like an entrance.A caretaker pushed me toward the building, and I saw a small door, unremarkable among so much glass.I realized it wasn't the front door.I'm going through the back door.For some reason, this exacerbated the anxiety that was already churning in my heart. "What is this place?" I asked again.I didn't think they would answer, and they didn't disappoint me. Once inside the building, I found myself in a short hallway.We stopped at a door with a small window, but it was so high that I couldn't see inside.There was a larger window to my left, and behind it sat another orderly, much like a teller in a bank.

"Heather Shore?" he asked.It wasn't me he was asking. "Yes." The nurse behind me confirmed. There was only a beep, and the door opened.One of the three orderlies reached out and pulled the door open, and I saw another hallway with many closed doors on either side.We made our way to the end of the corridor, through the second door, and this time, an orderly took out an access card, swiped it at a nondescript panel on the wall, and we were through.Behind the door are more corridors and more locked doors.Instead of trying to learn more from the few people around me, I waited with increasing vigilance.How big is this place, and why does it need so much security?

My silent wanderings in my new surroundings came to an end when I came behind yet another door.Somehow, I just knew this was my destination, even though this door was no different from any other.I could clearly see the huge complex lock from the outside, but when a caretaker reached out and twisted the doorknob, I was surprised to find that the door opened silently and the lock was already unlocked.This is the only unlocked door I've seen so far. I knew right away why: there were people in the room.The man was familiar, in an impeccable three-piece suit, and had a friendly expression on his face that I hated, though I couldn't say why I didn't like him that way.

"Heather," he said, standing up. Only at this point did I realize that he was sitting on a bed that turned out to be a bedroom.Panic struck again.What else could they have brought me into a bedroom with a locked door, other than let me live here?What happened?At least Dr. Peterson has the answer. "What's wrong?" I asked. He smiled at me, trying to reassure me.It didn't work. "What the hell is going on?" I repeated my question, louder this time.I almost yelled.Dr. Peterson doesn't like this.He waved to the guards who brought me in, followed me to hear their footsteps leaving, and then, with a snap, the door closed.I didn't hear the lock, but I still felt trapped, like an animal in a cage.

"Let's get you out of the wheelchair first, shall we?" Dr. Peterson interrupted before I could scream at him for the third time to ask my question. I quickly shut my mouth tightly, I have long been looking forward to getting rid of the belt tightly wrapped around my body.A pair of hands landed on my shoulders and started to untie the strap, which startled me a lot.I thought it was just me and Dr. Peterson in this room.The attendant who hadn't left came up in front of me and untied the sash around my waist, well away from my legs, as if I'd kick him.As soon as I raised my arm, he backed away quickly, but I was only moving to relieve the tight shoulders and spasms in my good hands.The straps are too tight. "I know you've been sitting for a long time, Heather, but if you'll just sit down on the bed, I'll explain everything to you." I staggered up from the wheelchair.I moved my stiff leg, took three steps, walked across the room, plopped down on the bed, and faced Dr. Peterson, who was now sitting on a plastic chair that looked like a school chair, Come face to face with me.Apart from these things, there wasn't much else in the room.There is only a small table, a bedside table, and a window, which is too high for me to sit on the bed, and I can't see the scenery outside.Everything is either white or beige.Clean, no warmth at all.Even the air was hygienic, the faint smell of bleach stinging my nostrils. "I think you have a lot of questions for me." Dr. Peterson's words stopped me from looking at the room. "What is this place?" I asked.This is the most critical question on my list. "You're in my hospital," Dr. Peterson said. "What does your hospital do?" I asked. Dr. Peterson smiled even wider. "Heal the sick," he said simply. I frowned.This is not an answer.He was purposely vague, and it just made my bad feelings worse. "Treat for what?" I asked. "I'm fine." The only thing I needed was my bandaged right hand. He smiled charmingly again. "We'll have a lot of time to talk about it later." He stood up and I knew he was going.The nurse no longer stood against the wall. "I'm going to talk to you now!" I snapped.I subconsciously stood up and took half a step forward, but the nurse stepped in front of me and blocked my way.Over his shoulder I saw Dr. Peterson hold up both hands, signaling me to calm down. "We need to find a suitable time to talk, Heather. First, I want to give you a period of time to get used to the new environment. After a while, someone will bring you food, and then, I suggest you take a good rest. We'll talk about it tomorrow." He turned around and walked out the door.The nurse put both hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me back.Dr. Peterson was gone, and another nurse took his place, holding something with many metal clasps.I think I know what it is, but I don't want to ask.I had to give in and let the big guy in front of me lead me to the edge of the bed, where I sat obediently.He walked away, taking every step carefully.The door was closed and locked.A face flashed through the small window in the door.Then, the face disappeared, and I was alone. I sat on the bed for a long time, and finally burst into tears.