Disclaimer: Same as all the others.
Let There Be A Light
Part 5/9
By Tchabu
Sarah dragged herself over to the sink. Turning on the cold water, she began to roughly scrub her bloodied face with her left hand, ignoring the sore and tender spots. The icy water numbed her and helped to clear her mind a bit. Once she decided that she was clean, which was difficult without the luxury of a mirror, she dried quickly and sat down on the hard mattress. The bed was the only piece of furniture in the dreary cell she was once again forced to live in. At least it wasn't Renewal Wing anymore.
For three weeks, Lyle had seen her daily. His name alone was enough to make her skin crawl, but she was doing a fairly good job of hiding her disgust and contempt. Day by day, the murderer had attempted, in all ways imaginable, to break her. No matter what he tried, be it coaxing, drugs, or threats, she had remained silent, just as she had since the day she'd regained consciousness.
Today wasn't any different. Seemingly desperate, Lyle had resorted to violence. Her face still stung from the slaps and punches. Still, she'd taken it all stoically and silently. Growing angry at the fact that she wasn't giving him any reaction, Lyle had stormed out early, leaving her alone.
None of this really bothered Sarah. Physical pain was nothing; with some cracked ribs and one arm still in a cast, not to mention years with Raines as her "caretaker," she had easily learned to deal with that type of thing. No, the loneliness was much worse. She'd grown used to the love and friendship her brother had always showed her, but now he was gone, and Angelo was the only one left to talk to.
He visited her once in a while; seeing her old friend was the only saving grace of having to live in this hellhole. At least she now knew why she "understood things." She was an empath, Just Like Angelo himself, and now he was teaching her to use her skills to her own advantage.
A sudden wave of dizziness swept over her, and she carefully leaned back to lie on the stiff bed. Yesterday had been by far the worse of he sessions with Lyle, and she was still feeling the effects. Instead of saying anything, Lyle had immediately injected her with a translucent, yellowy-brown liquid. Sarah didn't know what the drug was, but she realized that it was a powerful hallucinogen. She shuddered, remembering the horrifying things she had seen. Her worst nightmares had never been half so bad.
Silently clamping her teeth shut, she'd ridden out the hallucinations, much to Lyle's displeasure. On reflection, that was what most likely brought on today's abuse. Sarah knew that she was already being heavily medicated and that, along with whatever Lyle had given her, and was now making her severely ill.
She sat up again, but the whirling sensation made her nauseous. The redhead barely made it to the toilet in time, before she was violently ill. After she was completely empty, the dry heaves took over, and then she sank to the cold tile floor. Her eyelids closed heavily as she gave way to the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion.
***
Jarod rubbed his eyes as he sat at his computer. Stifling a yawn, he glanced at the clock and continued to work busily. It was 11:45 pm, he'd been up since 3:30 that morning, and he was totally beat. Since they'd taken Sarah away, he hadn't been sleeping well. His dreams were flooded with images of them doing horrific things to his little sister, and he was unable to help her. And the guilt! I should have stopped them, he thought, standing and slamming the chair into the table. He paced restlessly, as he had hundreds of times over the past two months. Come to think of it, it was just about two months since Sarah had gone into the coma, two months since he had last seen her awake and smiling. He despised his inability to do anything about the situation. He should be able to take care of his own family.
The last update from Angelo had come about an hour ago and had left him feeling sick. It was one of the many video emails, this one showing Sarah in her cell with Lyle there. For no apparent reason, the cannibal began to beat her mercilessly, and she just sat there and took it. No matter how hard he hit or kicked her, she did nothing, said nothing. Eventually, she slid down to the floor and he walked out, leaving her sprawled out, bloody and bruised.
Jarod had immediately wanted to go and take the Centre by storm, but knew that it would do no good. It wasn't time yet. He grabbed the phone and punched in a number impatiently. After a few rings, he heard the familiar voice on the other end.
"This is Sydney." Jarod noticed that his old friend sounded weary and worried.
"How is she?" he asked.
Sydney hesitated. "Not well at all. I found her passed out on the floor in her room. She was ill this afternoon, and her clothes were covered in blood from her session with Lyle."
"Damn it, Sydney, when I catch that bastard..." Jarod let it hang at that, so the older man quickly changed the subject.
"The Triumvirate has approved your idea about the music," he said, not wanting Jarod to get more upset.
"Music was--is-- one of her favorite things about the outside world. I'm hoping that her having access to some will help her."
"Jarod, this may be our last hope," Sydney said gently. "After three weeks and not a word, it isn't likely that she'll ever speak to anybody again. In addition to that, Sarah has--." He stopped.
The Pretender's voice was low and hard when he spoke. "Tell me, Sydney. I need to know what's wrong with my sister."
With a sigh, he continued. "Jarod, Sarah has been diagnosed as suicidal."
Jarod closed his eyes and sat down, putting his head in his hands. "How is she being treated?"
***
The girl lay on her bed, slightly groggy and feeling out of it. She wondered where Angelo was. He was the only person left she trusted, and he hadn't been around to see her in about a week. Staring at the ceiling, her thoughts returned to the place they were going more and more often. She'd overheard Sydney telling some nurse that she was suicidal when they thought she was sleeping. In truth, she had considered it, and was still wrestling with it as a possibility. The only thing that was keeping her from offing herself was the realization that Jarod would never have wanted her to take a coward's way out.
"Hello, Sarah," Sydney said cheerfully. Before the door even opened, she knew who it was; one of the benefits of being an empath is to recognize a person by the way he or she felt, in the same way that dogs recognize each other by scent. "How are you today?" he asked, pretending to expect an answer. Of course, he didn't get one. "Would you come with me, please? I have something to show you."
Sarah stood up slowly, fighting the stiffness of her muscles. As Sydney slowed his pace to match her painful, limping one, he couldn't help but notice how skinny she had grown. She must hardly be eating, he thought. He also noticed that, although her expression was blank, beneath her swollen eyelids intense pain was apparent, as well as the slightest hint of stubborn defiance. That gave him hope for her.
Eventually they arrived at a good-sized room. It was nothing like the rest of the Centre; comfortably furnished, with several overstuffed armchairs, a large mirror that appeared to be only for decoration, and, best of all, a glistening grand piano. As Sarah moved hesitantly towards the beautiful instrument, the old psychiatrist withdrew to a room next door where he could see without being seen. He wanted to leave her alone, but worried that, unattended, she might do something drastic.
***
There were stacks of sheet music on the piano bench that Sarah gently placed on the ground before sliding onto the wide seat. She ran her hands over the highly polished wood, then softly brushed the keys with her fingertips, making no sound. Then she settled in to play.
First came familiar melodies: Moonlight Sonata, the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies, and O Holy Night. The last one brought back the memory of the last day she'd seen Jarod. Tears began to fall for the first time, splashing on her lithe fingers, as she began to simply play.
***
Sydney stood in the other room, watching and listening. He saw the Pretender close her eyes and lean slightly back, letting the music flow from her fingers. He knew that he was hearing music that nobody else ever had; achingly sweet melodies that spoke of pain that words couldn't describe. There was no telling how long he stood there listening before Miss Parker walked into the room.
"Syd, some nurse wants to talk to you. Something about medications," she said. He left to deal with the unwanted interruption, leaving Parker entranced by the notes she heard drifting through from the room beyond.
She listened intently, trying to understand the deeper meanings. While very beautiful, parts of the music were subtly dark; almost imperceptibly so. Despite her willing them not to, her eyes filled with tears, and she saw the young girl as a person instead of a subject owned by the Centre. I'm as bad as all the rest, she thought. I know what it's like to lose family, and now I've taken it away from somebody else.
Suddenly, the door to the piano room opened and in walked her brother. For some unknown reason, the sight of him gave her a chill. She knew what the young Pretender's bruises were from. Parker watched as Lyle strolled over to stand next to Sarah.
***
Ok, that's all for this chapter. Let me know what you think!
Let There Be A Light
Part 5/9
By Tchabu
Sarah dragged herself over to the sink. Turning on the cold water, she began to roughly scrub her bloodied face with her left hand, ignoring the sore and tender spots. The icy water numbed her and helped to clear her mind a bit. Once she decided that she was clean, which was difficult without the luxury of a mirror, she dried quickly and sat down on the hard mattress. The bed was the only piece of furniture in the dreary cell she was once again forced to live in. At least it wasn't Renewal Wing anymore.
For three weeks, Lyle had seen her daily. His name alone was enough to make her skin crawl, but she was doing a fairly good job of hiding her disgust and contempt. Day by day, the murderer had attempted, in all ways imaginable, to break her. No matter what he tried, be it coaxing, drugs, or threats, she had remained silent, just as she had since the day she'd regained consciousness.
Today wasn't any different. Seemingly desperate, Lyle had resorted to violence. Her face still stung from the slaps and punches. Still, she'd taken it all stoically and silently. Growing angry at the fact that she wasn't giving him any reaction, Lyle had stormed out early, leaving her alone.
None of this really bothered Sarah. Physical pain was nothing; with some cracked ribs and one arm still in a cast, not to mention years with Raines as her "caretaker," she had easily learned to deal with that type of thing. No, the loneliness was much worse. She'd grown used to the love and friendship her brother had always showed her, but now he was gone, and Angelo was the only one left to talk to.
He visited her once in a while; seeing her old friend was the only saving grace of having to live in this hellhole. At least she now knew why she "understood things." She was an empath, Just Like Angelo himself, and now he was teaching her to use her skills to her own advantage.
A sudden wave of dizziness swept over her, and she carefully leaned back to lie on the stiff bed. Yesterday had been by far the worse of he sessions with Lyle, and she was still feeling the effects. Instead of saying anything, Lyle had immediately injected her with a translucent, yellowy-brown liquid. Sarah didn't know what the drug was, but she realized that it was a powerful hallucinogen. She shuddered, remembering the horrifying things she had seen. Her worst nightmares had never been half so bad.
Silently clamping her teeth shut, she'd ridden out the hallucinations, much to Lyle's displeasure. On reflection, that was what most likely brought on today's abuse. Sarah knew that she was already being heavily medicated and that, along with whatever Lyle had given her, and was now making her severely ill.
She sat up again, but the whirling sensation made her nauseous. The redhead barely made it to the toilet in time, before she was violently ill. After she was completely empty, the dry heaves took over, and then she sank to the cold tile floor. Her eyelids closed heavily as she gave way to the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion.
***
Jarod rubbed his eyes as he sat at his computer. Stifling a yawn, he glanced at the clock and continued to work busily. It was 11:45 pm, he'd been up since 3:30 that morning, and he was totally beat. Since they'd taken Sarah away, he hadn't been sleeping well. His dreams were flooded with images of them doing horrific things to his little sister, and he was unable to help her. And the guilt! I should have stopped them, he thought, standing and slamming the chair into the table. He paced restlessly, as he had hundreds of times over the past two months. Come to think of it, it was just about two months since Sarah had gone into the coma, two months since he had last seen her awake and smiling. He despised his inability to do anything about the situation. He should be able to take care of his own family.
The last update from Angelo had come about an hour ago and had left him feeling sick. It was one of the many video emails, this one showing Sarah in her cell with Lyle there. For no apparent reason, the cannibal began to beat her mercilessly, and she just sat there and took it. No matter how hard he hit or kicked her, she did nothing, said nothing. Eventually, she slid down to the floor and he walked out, leaving her sprawled out, bloody and bruised.
Jarod had immediately wanted to go and take the Centre by storm, but knew that it would do no good. It wasn't time yet. He grabbed the phone and punched in a number impatiently. After a few rings, he heard the familiar voice on the other end.
"This is Sydney." Jarod noticed that his old friend sounded weary and worried.
"How is she?" he asked.
Sydney hesitated. "Not well at all. I found her passed out on the floor in her room. She was ill this afternoon, and her clothes were covered in blood from her session with Lyle."
"Damn it, Sydney, when I catch that bastard..." Jarod let it hang at that, so the older man quickly changed the subject.
"The Triumvirate has approved your idea about the music," he said, not wanting Jarod to get more upset.
"Music was--is-- one of her favorite things about the outside world. I'm hoping that her having access to some will help her."
"Jarod, this may be our last hope," Sydney said gently. "After three weeks and not a word, it isn't likely that she'll ever speak to anybody again. In addition to that, Sarah has--." He stopped.
The Pretender's voice was low and hard when he spoke. "Tell me, Sydney. I need to know what's wrong with my sister."
With a sigh, he continued. "Jarod, Sarah has been diagnosed as suicidal."
Jarod closed his eyes and sat down, putting his head in his hands. "How is she being treated?"
***
The girl lay on her bed, slightly groggy and feeling out of it. She wondered where Angelo was. He was the only person left she trusted, and he hadn't been around to see her in about a week. Staring at the ceiling, her thoughts returned to the place they were going more and more often. She'd overheard Sydney telling some nurse that she was suicidal when they thought she was sleeping. In truth, she had considered it, and was still wrestling with it as a possibility. The only thing that was keeping her from offing herself was the realization that Jarod would never have wanted her to take a coward's way out.
"Hello, Sarah," Sydney said cheerfully. Before the door even opened, she knew who it was; one of the benefits of being an empath is to recognize a person by the way he or she felt, in the same way that dogs recognize each other by scent. "How are you today?" he asked, pretending to expect an answer. Of course, he didn't get one. "Would you come with me, please? I have something to show you."
Sarah stood up slowly, fighting the stiffness of her muscles. As Sydney slowed his pace to match her painful, limping one, he couldn't help but notice how skinny she had grown. She must hardly be eating, he thought. He also noticed that, although her expression was blank, beneath her swollen eyelids intense pain was apparent, as well as the slightest hint of stubborn defiance. That gave him hope for her.
Eventually they arrived at a good-sized room. It was nothing like the rest of the Centre; comfortably furnished, with several overstuffed armchairs, a large mirror that appeared to be only for decoration, and, best of all, a glistening grand piano. As Sarah moved hesitantly towards the beautiful instrument, the old psychiatrist withdrew to a room next door where he could see without being seen. He wanted to leave her alone, but worried that, unattended, she might do something drastic.
***
There were stacks of sheet music on the piano bench that Sarah gently placed on the ground before sliding onto the wide seat. She ran her hands over the highly polished wood, then softly brushed the keys with her fingertips, making no sound. Then she settled in to play.
First came familiar melodies: Moonlight Sonata, the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies, and O Holy Night. The last one brought back the memory of the last day she'd seen Jarod. Tears began to fall for the first time, splashing on her lithe fingers, as she began to simply play.
***
Sydney stood in the other room, watching and listening. He saw the Pretender close her eyes and lean slightly back, letting the music flow from her fingers. He knew that he was hearing music that nobody else ever had; achingly sweet melodies that spoke of pain that words couldn't describe. There was no telling how long he stood there listening before Miss Parker walked into the room.
"Syd, some nurse wants to talk to you. Something about medications," she said. He left to deal with the unwanted interruption, leaving Parker entranced by the notes she heard drifting through from the room beyond.
She listened intently, trying to understand the deeper meanings. While very beautiful, parts of the music were subtly dark; almost imperceptibly so. Despite her willing them not to, her eyes filled with tears, and she saw the young girl as a person instead of a subject owned by the Centre. I'm as bad as all the rest, she thought. I know what it's like to lose family, and now I've taken it away from somebody else.
Suddenly, the door to the piano room opened and in walked her brother. For some unknown reason, the sight of him gave her a chill. She knew what the young Pretender's bruises were from. Parker watched as Lyle strolled over to stand next to Sarah.
***
Ok, that's all for this chapter. Let me know what you think!
