Title- Dream a Little Dream
Author- abercrombieprep
Rating- PG-13 for language and violent themes
Ship- S/V in a strange, twisted way
Spoilers- Everything up to 'The Nemesis' is game
Lyrics- "Wonderful", Everclear
Distribution- sd-1, fanfiction, CM, anything else… e-mail me
Disclaimer- I don't own Alias. Or the characters. So don't sue me, because I haven't the money to pay you!
Author's Notes- This story was based right after 'The Nemesis', and was written for the January challenge on SD-1 (requirements: angst, but no death). Lots of love and devotion went into this story, so please review and tell me what you think! That purple button loves you! Give it a little tickle.
Dream a Little Dream
Close my eyes when I go to bed and I
Dream of adventures that make me smile
The lights woke her up. Bright,
white, sterile. Piercing. White
everywhere.
Whitewallswhitefloorwhiteceilingwhitebedwhitesheetswhitefacewhitewhitewhite
She moaned a little, and stuffed her face into the white pillow, wishing for
another five minutes of sleep. However, she could barely move her neck without
an electric shock of pain reverberating throughout her entire body. She tried
to remember where she was, but she couldn't remember anything but the piercing
white light now burned into her mind, and the dull purple glow of an afterimage
it left behind.
She tried to stand, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, but soon
realized that they were tied to the end of the white metal bed. Sydney Bristow
was, essentially, trapped.
She laid her head back against the pillow again and closed her eyes, trying to
think of where she was.
Rain.Allison.Fight.Vaughn.Hotel.Running.Gone.Blood.Ambulance.Sofia.Table.Gun.Francie.Empty.
She sat up suddenly. She and Vaughn must have been captured. It would explain
the ankle cuffs and the bright lights. As she was about to lay her head back
down and await the imminent torture, the white door in the corner of the room
opened and an older woman entered with a cart.
"Good morning Miss Bristow. How are you feeling today?" she cheerfully asked.
"Who are you?"
The woman shook her head a little. "They had to use a tranquilizer on you
again, did they? I'm Nurse Mary, darling."
Sydney stared at the nurse for a moment as
she opened several hotplates of food. "Who do you work for?"
"Crestwood Manor, darling."
"I'm sure. Why are you holding me here?"
"We're not holding you, Sydney. We're simply rehabilitating you. Now, eat your
breakfast and we'll get you a shower, and then you can go out and spend some
time in the garden, all right? Your first appointment isn't until one thirty, so you should have plenty of time to water
your roses," the nurse said, as she turned and began to walk to the door. "And
do remember to drink all of your milk today. You need all the calcium you can
get, darling."
The door slammed closed after the nurse and Sydney was left all alone
in the little white room.
--
She
didn't touch her breakfast, but she did get up and take a shower. She stood
erect as the water ran over her, listening for any sound that would alert her
to her capturer's arrival. She expected they would come soon, bearing their
questions and threats of torture.
After standing in the water until her fingers were well pruned, she got out and
turned off the water, drying off quickly and pulling on the white gown she had
been wearing. As she started to towel dry her hair, there was a knock at the
door.
"Miss Bristow? Miss Bristow you didn't eat your breakfast," the voice on the
other side of the door said. The muffled voice did not represent Mary's, and
she couldn't place it with anyone else she knew.
"I just… wasn't hungry!" Sydney shouted back, trying
to dry her hair even faster so she could open the door to find out who was on
the other side.
"Sydney, you know the rules. You must eat all
of your meals. Please come out and finish your breakfast."
Sydney flung open the door and a tall,
overweight woman gave her a bright smile.
"Good morning, Miss Bristow! Would you like me to warm up your food again?"
"No, thank you," Sydney grumbled, situating herself at the edge of the bed and
taking a huge bite of her eggs, hoping that the woman would take the message
and leave.
"Your roses are looking lovely, sweetheart. So big and bright, I'm sure you're
very proud of them," the nurse said, dusting a thread off of her white nurse's
jacket.
Sydney nodded, while carefully taking in her
surroundings. Whoever was holding her was taking extreme amounts of care to
make her believe she was actually in a hospital. The room held the distinct
smell of rubber and disinfectant, it was clean, too clean almost, and the
bathroom had a wheelchair railing. The nurses, or what appear to be nurses,
were wearing their standard jacket and baggy pants. Mary was even wearing the
standard green pants that most nurses wore.
Yes, someone was most certainly trying to play with her mind. Her enemy list
was long, but the enemies willing to go this far just to get back at her? Sparse. Sark,
maybe. Her mother, possibly. Perhaps Allison. But most likely it was Sloane. He had the
resources, the need for revenge and the complete lack of morals. It was then,
when Sydney had decided that it
must be Sloane holding her hostage, that she noticed
that the nurse was speaking to her.
"Sydney… Sydney." Sydney looked up at the
nurse. "I was just saying that if you want, we'll move you back to your room
now."
Sydney stared at the woman, wondering what
she was supposed to say. No, she didn't want to go to her room. For all she
knew the room this supposed nurse was talking about was an interrogation room
filled with torture devices. At least that was what the logical part of her
mind was telling her. But the illogical part of her mind, the part she liked to
call her heart, was screaming at her to go. She had to find Vaughn, and it
would only be to her benefit to see as much of the facility she was being held
in before she formulated an escape.
"If it helps you make up your mind, Melanie has been missing you."
Melanie. The nurse had spoken the name in such a way that Sydney assumed that there
she was familiar with her. A cell mate? A torturer?
Sydney nodded her head. "Yes, I'm ready to
go back."
She follows the nurse out of the room, eyes darting up, down, around, taking in
all of the sights available, mapping all of the hallways and corridors. The
large windows throughout the hallways look out into a large courtyard, filled
with bright flowers and benches.
And people.
People who were not bruised and battered. People who were playing checkers, people who were watering
flowers. People who were merely sitting.
Suddenly she was dizzy. Perhaps Nurse Mary was serious. Maybe she was in a
hospital.
"What happened to me?" she asked.
The nurse stopped and turned around, looking into Sydney's eyes deeply. "I
think it would be best if I left that up to your doctor to tell you. You'll be
seeing her soon."
Sydney felt her stomach drop. "Is Vaughn all
right? And my father… is he okay too?"
"Sydney, save your questions for your doctor.
I'm not allowed to answer them."
"What are you allowed to tell me?" Sydney questioned, her
voice rising several decibels.
The nurse put her finger to her lips. "Sydney, please follow the
rules while you're at the manor. If you have concerns, address them to the
proper authority. And right now, that's not me."
Sydney nodded absently. A clock in the
hallway read eleven fifty-two. Only a little over an hour and a half until she
could speak to her doctor and clear this mess up. Hopefully, in two hours she'd
be released from this place and she could make her way back to L.A.
They continued walking, Sydney staring at the doors
on the right side of the hallway, each covered in cards, balloons and pictures.
In the center of the collage of items was a white sheet with names on it.
Sarah.Jane.Jennifer.Amy.Hannah.Rachel.Christine.Kim.Stephanie.Brenda.Monique.Gail.
The women's wing, she assumed, or a women's hospital.
The nurse stopped at door number 213 and knocked. The door was covered with
pictures of a young woman with jet black hair and a wide smile, letters to both
Melanie and herself, and cards wishing both women to get well soon. Buried deep
beneath the pictures was a small sign that had 'Melanie Banks and Sydney
Bristow' written on it in script. Underneath in a small, tiny font were two
code numbers.
The door opened a crack and then shut. It opened a crack more the second time
before shutting again.
The nurse shook her head. "Melanie, please open the door completely."
"One second!" came a reply as the door opened a few
inches more and closed. Suddenly, the door flew open to reveal the same girl
that was in many of the pictures, with the same bright smile.
"Sydney!" she squealed, running and giving Sydney a giant hug. She
stepped back and wiped her hands on her jeans once, twice and again a third
time. Then she looked up. "I've missed you so much! It just hasn't been the
same without you."
"I've missed you to," Sydney replied, her voice
lacking conviction. Melanie, however, didn't seem to notice.
"I watered your flowers for you yesterday, because you didn't come back from
your appointment. I hope they don't die," Melanie said. She couldn't have been
much more than twenty five, and she seemed eager and alert.
"Sydney didn't respond too well to her last
treatment," the nurse said, directing her attention to Melanie. "If she seems a
little disoriented, it's okay. She has an appointment in an hour and a half
with Doctor Walters. We'll get it all cleared up there."
Melanie shook her head. "That's fine Anne, I'm sure we can handle it." She gave
her a charming smile. Sydney did the same.
"Before you go, what's for lunch?"
"I think you're having spaghetti today," the nurse said before turning around
and walking down the hallway.
"So," said Melanie, "what happened?"
Sydney followed her into the pale green
room. "I don't really know…" Sydney stared in wonder as
Melanie shut the door three times before turning around.
"Well, what don't you know?"
Sydney looked down at the ground. She wasn't
sure if she should be telling her this or not, but she wanted answers. "Everything. I woke up and I didn't know where I was or what
I was doing here."
The woman blinked. "Oh wow. Well, I know that's not common, but I suppose it
can happen, with all of your treatments. I guess you're just special,
or something like that. Do you feel fine otherwise?"
"My head kind of hurts, but I'm okay. What kind of hospital is this, anyway?"
"It's not a hospital Sydney, it's a
rehabilitation center," Melanie said patronizingly.
"Rehabilitation for what?" Sydney twisted her legs
around. "I feel fine."
Melanie stared at her with a strange look and patted the end of the bed three
times. Sydney sat down, slightly
afraid of what Melanie could tell her.
Melanie sighed. "Sydney, Crestwood Manor is a women's mental rehabilitation
center."
She stared at her for a few seconds. "But… I'm not crazy… I don't mean crazy,
but I don't need mental help. I'm fine!"
Melanie laughed, apparently not upset by the fact that
Sydney had just insinuated that she was
crazy. She placed her hands reassuringly on Sydney's. "I know, Sydney. That's exactly what
I thought when I came here. I'm not crazy. Sure, I have my quirks, like
everyone else. But I'm definitely not crazy. Right?
But now I understand. I was in denial, Sydney. I needed help and I
couldn't see it, but now I can. And they help me here."
Sydney stood up and paced the room. "But I'm
not in denial, I don't need help and there isn't anything wrong with me. I'm
just normal old me. Sydney."
Melanie stood up too. "I'm not going to try to tell you you're wrong. Talk it
over with your doctor when you see her. Until then, do you want to go get some
lunch?"
She nodded, not really caring what she did until one
thirty. She followed Melanie down the halls to a cafeteria filled with
women of all ages, some talking animatedly to each other, some sitting alone
and reading and others simply staring off into space.
After getting their meals Melanie and Sydney wandered over to a table next to
the large windows that let in warm sunlight. They ate in silence, Sydney's eyes taking in
every person, trying to categorize their mental issues. She only looked up when
someone tapped her shoulder.
Anne smiled down at Sydney. "I'm going to take
you to your appointment, if you're ready."
"Yes, I'm definitely ready," Sydney replied, picking up
her bowl and tray and dumping them in a trash can nearby.
Sydney followed Anne out of the cafeteria
and down a set of stairs to the basement floor. This floor was painted a bright
yellow and each of the doors held name tags on them, much like a hotel. There
was a laundry room, an exercise room and a library. Further down, however, the
door tags began to contain names and professions.
162. Dr. Kathleen Walters, MD
Anne knocked on the door and gave Sydney a reassuring smile.
The door opened to reveal a tall woman with dark brown hair. "Hello Sydney, come on in. I hear
you've been having some problems, yes?"
Sydney nodded her head.
"Well, come on in, have a seat and I'll see what I can do," Dr. Walters said,
offering a bright smile. She turned to the nurse, "Thank you, Anne. I'll call
you when Sydney is ready to go back
to her room."
Sydney entered the room and took a seat on
the brown leather couch, seated directly across from a high-backed green chair
that she assumed was the doctor's. A thick manila folder with
Bristow, Sydney Alexandra written in bold red at the top.
The doctor closed the door and sat down in the leather seat and looked up at Sydney. "I hear you're
having some memory loss? Tell me about what you remember last."
"The last thing I remember, Doctor, is chasing after Allison Doren in Sofia. So, unless during
the time that I can remember and the time that it is now I've developed a
mental disorder, I see no reason to be sitting here," Sydney said belligerently.
She hoped that cutting to the chase would make the doctor realize there was
absolutely no reason for her to be here.
The doctor grabbed the folder and began to scribble things down on the inside
flap. "And why were you chasing Allison, Sydney?"
"Because Allison is evil. She had something the CIA
needed, we went to get it," she replied flippantly.
"We? Who else was with you?"
"Excuse me doctor, but I really don't see why this is necessary. I'm perfectly
sane."
The doctor looked her directly in the eye. "Please answer the question, Sydney.
I need to know what you remember so that I can do my job, okay?"
"Vaughn. Vaughn and I went to Sofia together."
Dr. Walters smiled. "So you're telling me that the last thing you remember is
your fight with Allison, and then you woke up here with no recollection of
anything else?"
"Exactly."
The doctor's smile faded away and she sighed. "I suppose I shouldn't be
shocked. There are always risks involved with the treatment, but you had held
out quite fine in the past few days."
"What are you talking about?" Sydney asked, her stomach
dropping when she caught sight of the doctor's worried face.
"Sydney, what year is it?"
Sydney was taken aback by the question. It
wasn't possible for her to have lost another two years of her life, was it?
"It's 2005."
The doctor sighed even louder this time. "No Sydney. No, it's 2003."
Sydney stared at the doctor. Her mind
couldn't even comprehend what she was being told. "No it's not. This is a joke.
A sick, twisted joke. You can't tell me that I lost
two years of my life and then suddenly I haven't lost them. It's not possible."
She stood up and began to pace.
What if Vaughn was lying? What if he was Covenant? What if they all were
Covenant? What if this was all a dream?
She pinched herself, trying to wake herself up.
The doctor stood, placing her hands on Sydney's upper arms. "What
I'm going to tell you is painful, Sydney. Why don't you sit
down?"
Sydney threw Dr. Walters's hands off her
arms like they were acid. "No. You're one of them, aren't you? You're trying to
break me. Who do you work for?"
The doctor did not seem fazed. "Sydney, settle down or I'll
need to call security. Please have a seat and I'll explain to you everything
you need to know."
"Who are you working for?" Sydney shouted, ignoring
the doctor's requests. "Are you working for Sloane? Allison? Sark? Who?"
"None of those people even exist," the doctor stated calmly, disregarding Sydney's shouts.
Sydney whipped her head around from where
she had been searching the desk for any clues as to who the doctor worked for.
"What did you say?" she asked weakly.
"Sydney, sit down, and I'll tell you. Please
just calm down," Dr. Walters replied, gesturing to the couch Sydney had sat on before.
Sydney sat down, barely aware of anything
but the thoughts running through her head.
How could they not exist?
"What do you mean they don't exist?" Sydney whispered.
The doctor took Sydney's hands into her
own. "You're suffering from a disorder, Sydney. A
powerful, powerful disorder that is telling you to believe things that aren't
true."
"What do you mean?"
"Sydney, you have dissociative identity
disorder. It's a mental disorder that affects those who have been through
terrible psychological trauma, but with treatment, you can overcome it. That's
why you're here, Sydney. We're here to help
you overcome your disorder."
"I don't know what you mean. How… how could I have this disorder?"
The doctor squeezed her hands. "When you were little, Sydney, so many terrible
things happened to you. And when children are traumatized, sometimes they try
to take a vacation in their mind. Get away from everything they can't get away
from in real life. That's what happened to you, Sydney. That's why you're
here."
"But I don't understand. Nothing happened to me when I was little that would
make me go crazy. I dealt with everything that I was handed. I'm okay!"
"That's what your mind wants you to believe. Your mind made up this altered
state to make you feel okay. Before your dissociative split you were scared, Sydney, scared and unhappy.
You were petrified to go home. And then you began to dream. You dreamed that
all of the terrible things that happened to you were part of this dream world.
They made sense there. Delusions, Sydney, that's all they
were. Delusions that made you feel better inside. The CIA,
your enemies, SD-6. It was all a delusion."
Sydney's hands were shaking and she could
feel her eyes well with tears. "All of this… all of it
is a lie?"
The doctor tried to meet Sydney's shifting eyes. "A
lot of it is, Sydney, but I'm here to
help you find the truth in all of the lies and dreams in your head. All you
have to do is let me help you."
Sydney felt dizzy. "It's all a lie?"
"You've had a long day, Sydney. Why don't you come
back tomorrow at this same time and we'll talk about the truth?"
Sydney nodded remotely. She could barely
make out the doctor calling Anne to get her, or the doctor rubbing her hands on
Sydney's back until Anne showed up.
The rest of the night and the following day was a blur. She hardly touched her
breakfast, hardly paid attention when Melanie asked her what was wrong, hardly
cared when someone asked her if she was going to water her flowers. All she
cared about was getting back to the doctor's office and learning more. A part
of her warned her that this could all be an elaborate setup, but part of her
believed that perhaps the doctor was true.
Somehow, she found herself standing in front of room 162 again, waiting for the
door to open. Waiting to find out who she was.
Dr. Walters opened the door and gave Sydney a small smile,
leading her to the couch. "How are you feeling today?"
"Terrible," Sydney answered truthfully.
"Not only can I not remember where I am, I can't remember who I am."
"Well, the amnesia should wear off within the week; the electroshock didn't
last long."
"Electroshock?" Sydney asked, surprised.
"Electroshock in dissociative disorders is rare, yes, but your case is one of
the most severe I have ever seen. We had been getting positive results, but it
appears we're back to stage one again."
"How long have I been here?"
The doctor glanced up at a calendar on the wall. "You've been here for almost
two months. A month and twenty six days, if you want to be
exact."
"Is that when this all started? Two months ago?"
Dr. Walters laughed slightly. "No Sydney. This all started
when you were a small child, probably three or four. But you were diagnosed two
months ago."
Sydney stared at a spot on the floor. She
had to put all of her faith in the doctor to get answers, to find out who she
was, and to find what happened to her. "What happened to me as a child to bring
it on?"
"I can't just tell you about yourself, Sydney. You have to remember all on your
own. But I can help you remember by putting you through hypnotherapy, if you
agree to it. The procedure is relatively simple, we'll
put you in a state such as that of watching a movie or reading a book. You're
awake, but not alert to all the stimuli around you…"
"I'm aware of the procedure, doctor," interjected Sydney.
"Ahh… yes, you probably are. Would you be willing to
undergo hypnosis, knowing that you risk extremely terrifying nightmares and
daydreams?"
"Of course I would," Sydney agreed.
Dr. Walters smiled brightly. "We can begin immediately, if you wish. All we
have to do is get you nice and comfortable in this
chair and get you hooked up to the EEG."
Sydney moved to the chair the doctor had
gestured to and sat back in it. The material sucked her in and she was
immediately soothed. Dr. Walters placed several electrodes on her head and
turned on the machine and her computer. She began to talk to Sydney soothingly, telling
her that she was free of worries and concerns. She was weightless.
And suddenly she was.
"Sydney, can you hear me?"
The doctor's voice rang in her head, somewhere distant but
yet close enough. "Yes, I can."
"Okay Sydney, I want you to think
back a long time ago. Your fifth birthday. Can you do
that?"
Suddenly images filled her mind.
"Syddy, open my gift first!"
"No mine! It's got a big red bow!"
Sydney smiled and looked
down at the mound of presents with glee. Pink, purple, green,
red. There were so many colors. She looked up to her mother. "Which one first, Mommy?"
Her mother gave her a bright smile. "Why don't you start with the one closest
to you? That way it's fair to everyone."
"What do you remember of that day, Sydney?"
"We were at the park; it was a sunny and warm day. All of my friends were there
and we played hide and go seek for hours."
"That's not the truth though, Sydney. Try to think back
to what really happened. Try to find a clue in your surroundings that will lead
you to the truth."
Sydney's eyes scanned her dream for
something that seemed out of place. And then suddenly she noticed it. Bright
and purple, it stood out like a sore thumb on her mother's pale skin. A bruise, the size of a fist.
Unexpectedly, the dream started to fade out and was replaced with another
fantasy.
"Where the fuck is my meal, Laura? I come home from work and all I ask for
is a measly meal and you couldn't find the time to make it?" her father roared.
"Jack, it was Sydney's birthday. I took
her to the park to celebrate and we lost track of time. Go and sit down and
I'll have it out to you in a minute," Laura replied, trying to calm her
husband.
"Damn you, bitch!" Jack barked, slamming his wife against the wall. Sydney took
her Barbie and scooted back into her room, closing her eyes and humming to
herself. She heard the sound of her father's hand snapping against her mother's
cheek and closed her eyes even harder. She wasn't here. They were in the park,
eating cake and laughing. Christy and Elizabeth were there too. "Don't you dare
tell me what to fucking do! It will be a cold day in hell before I start taking
orders from you."
"Sydney, are you okay?"
Sydney could feel the tears running down her
face, but couldn't do anything to stop them. "He hit her. My dad hit my mom."
"It's okay, Sydney. This is all part of
the process. It's hard to start remembering, but you'll be so much happier when
you know the truth. You won't feel so torn anymore, you'll feel whole. Now, I
can understand if you'd like to quit. I know this is a lot to take in."
"No… no, I need to know what happened," Sydney could hear herself
saying.
"How about we try to think about the day that your mother died?" Dr. Walters
suggested.
Sydney woke up early,
sensing something was wrong. She opened her door and crept out, leaning over
the banister to see her nanny crying on the couch.
She flew down the stairs. "What's wrong, Carolyn?"
Her nanny closed her eyes and gave her a weak smile. "Something sad happened,
little one, but its okay."
She leaned in to give Carolyn a hug when she felt a presence behind her.
"Sydney, may I speak to you
in my office?" her father asked.
She was surprised, of course, that her father was home
in the middle of the day on a Saturday. Whatever that had happened must have
been horrible for her father to take a day off of work.
Sydney cuddled into one of the large chairs in her father's office, glancing
around, trying not to meet her father's eyes. She had a feeling that whatever
the news was, she did not want to hear it.
"Sydney, there was an
accident. Your mother," he choked out, "didn't make it."
She sat there, dumbfounded. It wasn't until she felt her father's strong arms
wrap around her own in a hug that she realized what he had said. And then she
felt the tears flow.
Sydney began to sniffle, trying to keep in
her tears in. She had to be strong to find out what had happened.
"Its okay, Sydney. Nothing can hurt
you, this all happened in the past. Now, look around for a clue to unlock the
truth. Anything out of the ordinary could be a clue."
Her eyes began to move under her eyelids, searching the memories in front of
her. She looked down at her father's skin, hoping to find a bruise that might
lead her to reality, but there was none. However, as she followed his arms
down, she noticed how tightly they were gripping her own arms.
Suddenly, Sydney found herself pinned
against a wall, her father's arms gripping her tightly and pressing her even
harder against the wall.
"This is all your fault, you brat. If you hadn't have
ripped your pants like an idiot your mother would have never gone out tonight."
"Daddy," Sydney cried. "Daddy, let
go of me! You're hurting me."
"You hurt me too. You killed your mother," Jack spat.
"No I didn't, Daddy. It was an accident! I swear I didn't do it. You weren't
here when the police came, they said it was an
accident."
Jack shoved her back hard, her head making a loud cracking noise when it hit
the wall. "Don't you dare argue with me, girl." He grabbed the beer sitting on
the kitchen table and sat down on the couch, as if nothing had happened.
As soon as she knew he couldn't see her, Sydney fell to the floor
quietly sobbing.
"What do you see?" Dr. Walters asked softly.
"My dad blamed my mother's death on me. He said it was my fault and slammed me
against the wall," Sydney stated. She was sobbing, just as she had been in her
dream. Her dream of reality.
"I'm going to bring you back, Sydney. You've had all you
can handle with today."
When Sydney awoke from her
trance-like state she had only one question for Dr. Walters. "I didn't kill
her, did I?"
The doctor gave her a sad smile. "No you didn't. You loved your mother very
much, Sydney. Very,
very much."
Sydney found herself very tired after her
hypnotherapy treatment, even though she had been almost asleep during it all.
After getting her tears dried and being tucked in to her bed by Melanie, she
fell fast asleep.
"Mommy, where is Daddy?" a young Sydney asked.
"He's at a friend's house, baby. Come make the bread with me," her mother
replied, ripping off a portion of the dough she was kneading and setting it
down in front of the step stool.
"But he was at a friend's house yesterday! I want to show him the picture I
made at school," Sydney whined. "How come
he's always gone?"
Her mother smeared some of the flour on her face. "There… now don't you look
like the little baker."
"He's always at sleepovers," she stated, oblivious to her mother's attempts to
change the subject.
"Not always at sleepovers, baby girl."
--
"Sydney, I'd like for you to stay in for recess today,
okay?" Miss Nolan said.
Several students in front of Sydney turned to stare at
her.
"Sydney's in trouble, Sydney's in trouble," Kevin said in a sing-song voice.
Sydney blushed and looked down, trying to concentrate on her math workbook.
"No, Kevin, Sydney's not in trouble.
Now, go get your coats on and line up at the door," her teacher replied. The
other students cheerfully packed up their work and bundled into their coats,
looking eagerly at their teacher. At her signal, they ran outside to join the
other second graders on the playground. Sydney kept her head bent
down and continued to work.
"Sydney, sweetheart, I know it's been tough since your mother passed away. Is
there anything you want to talk about?" the teacher asked, tilting Sydney's head up so that
her eyes met the teacher's.
Sydney shook her head. "No, thank you, Miss Nolan. I'm okay."
Miss Nolan gave her a half smile. "The reason I ask is because I've noticed you
have a lot of bruises on your arm. Is everything okay at home?"
She looked down to the large bruises on her arms and quickly rolled down her
sleeves. "I just fell down the stairs. It's okay."
The teacher searched her eyes. "You know its okay to tell me if something isn't
wrong. You're not going to get in trouble."
"I promise, nothing is wrong."
--
"So, did you have any nightmares since we met last week? The first two
hypnotherapy sessions usually create the most nightmares.
She shook her head. "Not nightmares. I had dreams. Memories, I assume, of when
I was little. Making bread with my mom and a day at school
when I was in second grade."
"Did everything in your dreams seem to be real? There weren't any people who
seemed inhuman or colors that stood out of place?"
Sydney glanced over to the bookshelf,
looking at the titles. "No, there weren't." Her eyes flashed back to Dr.
Walters's. "He was cheating on her, wasn't he? I mean it'd make sense, he was abusive, probably alcoholic. Why not be an adulterer, too?"
Dr. Walters nodded. "From what information we've gathered from your treatments
before your memory loss, yes, he was."
"I just don't understand, you know? How could I be so stupid
as to think… to think that my father was a hero that he wasn't?"
Dr. Walters stood up and took a seat next to Sydney. "You weren't being
stupid. You were doing the only thing a child can do in a situation like that. Imagining. You were imagining a better place where you
weren't so helpless."
Sydney's head bobbed a bit.
"Your father wasn't home much when you were a child, and it was the height of
the Cold War. What child hadn't heard about spies? You simply imagined that
your father was a spy, that when he was gone he was protecting the world,
something he couldn't do for either you or your mother."
"I suppose."
The doctor gave her a smile. "You ready to see what else we can find out?"
--
"Dad? DAD?" Sydney shouted, walking
into her house.
"Shut the fuck up! What the hell are you trying to do, wake the dead?" her
father mumbled, stumbling out of his chair.
Sydney gave him a look of
disdain. "You've been home drinking all day?"
"So what if I have?" he asked, walking a jagged line to the refrigerator and
grabbing two more beers.
She grabbed the beers out of his hands easily. "You're going to kill yourself
if you don't stop. You're already completely smashed."
Her father aimed a slap at her face, but hit only air. "Give those back to me,
bitch. When you're an adult, you can tell me what to do. But until then it's my
house and you live by my rules.
"Trust me; I'm the only adult here. Go sit down and I'll make your dinner."
This time his palm made contact with the side of her face, leaving the room to
ring in the sound of its crack.
Sydney glared at him. "I'm
going out with Francie and Josh. It's my birthday and I'm not going to slave
over a drunk."
Jack's face turned even darker red in fury. "You leave this house and you will
never come back!"
She stared at him in shock. She turned 16 today and he was throwing her out?
"What?"
"Don't you dare question my authority. If you leave
this house, you leave forever," he snarled.
"Fine."
--
Neon red lights lit up the side of the building. Marty's Diner.
"It's not your fault that all the guys you date are complete jerks. Maybe
you're like genetically drawn to them, you know? Like your mom dated a s*** guy, you've dated two… maybe it runs in your family,"
Francie said.
"I don't think dating the wrong guy runs in the family. That's like hemophilia
or whatever. I think dating the wrong guys comes from me being an idiot or
something," Sydney sighed, intensely
swirling her coffee.
"You're not an idiot, Sydney."
"I feel like it," Sydney said, glancing down
at her watch. Five more minutes of break. She looked
back up at Francie's face. Behind Francie, however, was what really caught her
eye. In the door had walked the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on.
"It's not like you could help the fact that both Noah and Danny dumped you in
the most incredibly lame way ever. They're just…" Francie hushed when she saw
the look on Sydney's face. "What?"
"Oh my God. This guy just walked in and he's
absolutely adorable!"
Francie rolled her eyes. "You were just crying over Danny like two seconds ago
and now you're into someone else. God Sydney, you are such a whore!"
Sydney laughed, if there
was anyone in the world who could cheer her up it was Francie. "No seriously.
He has sandy blonde hair and he's tall. And he's wearing a hockey jersey." Sydney watched as Francie
started to turn around. "No! Don't look! Then he'll know that we're looking at
him."
Francie ignored her pleading look and turned around. "You have to go talk to
him, Sydney!"
--
Dr. Walters rubbed Sydney's temples as she
removed the EEG electrodes from her head. "I have to warn you, Sydney, from now
on, your treatment could be very erratic. The last few attempts we tried to
regain your memories of the most recent years, we were met with heavy
resistance. Now that we know electroshock therapy doesn't work, we will have to
think of other routes."
"What do you have in mind?"
"There's a possibility that we may have you revisit key locations and people of
your life, to see if that sparks any of your memories."
"Can that really work?" Sydney asked.
"With your case, it's hard to tell. But it can't hurt to try," Dr. Walters
replied. "I know you've been spending a lot of time in your room because most
of your privileges have been suspended. After thinking about it, I see no harm
in your continuing as normal. Starting tomorrow, you'll be allowed to visit any
room on the first floor."
Sydney smiled. "Thank you, doctor." She got
out of the chair slowly and rubbed her legs, trying to get the dull ache out of
them. "I suppose I'll go to bed now."
Dr. Walters gave her a quick hug. "Goodnight, Sydney."
--
Sydney listened to the nurses' heels click
on the tile outside her room.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Sydney waited for a few seconds before
quietly getting out of her bed and opening the door. The quiet creak it emitted
made Sydney look back at
Melanie, making sure she was still asleep. She then slipped out into the
hallway and made her way to the game room.
She hadn't believed a word the so-called doctor had said. It was all an
elaborate plan, she had concluded. A complex plan they were using to break her
down, to make her their robot. But she wouldn't be fooled. It was obvious that
they had planted the ideas into her head, probably using video footage of
another girl who looked similar to her, and then knocked her out hard enough to
make her forget. And then they had simply told her a phony story of a mental
disorder to make her believe that the thoughts she was thinking were memories
of her life, not memories of a video they had shown her a week ago.
And now she was getting out. She had spent the past few weeks playing the part
of an unaware victim, pretending to believe the things she saw. She used tears
to her advantage. But that was all going to end.
She slipped into the game room undetected, and quietly shut the door. She made
her way to where several phone booths had been set up in a conjoining room and
picked up the receiver, dialing a number she knew by heart.
"Hello?" a woman's voice said.
"This is officer 2300844, calling for connection. Confirmation: looking glass,"
Sydney repeated, much like she had when she
had woken up in Hong Kong.
"Excuse me… what? I think you have the wrong number," the woman replied, her
voice conveying her confusedness.
"Oh… I'm sorry. I must have hit the wrong number," Sydney said, just as
confused as the woman. She was positive she had dialed the right number. She
redialed the number, but when the same woman answered the phone again, she
slammed it down.
Frustrated, Sydney dialed her father's
number instead.
"Hola, Vega residence," a young voice said, clearly
woken from his sleep.
Sydney sighed, angered that none of the
numbers she had tried were working. "I'm sorry, I have the wrong number." She
hung up the phone again, exasperated. Apparently, she had been held for a
little longer than she had first estimated.
Desperate, Sydney picked up the phone
again and dialed Vaughn's number. The phone rang several times before the
answering machine picked up.
"Hello, you've reached the Vaughn residence. Please leave your name and number
and we'll get back to you just as soon as possible."
Sydney stared at the phone in shock. Her
voice had been on Vaughn's answering machine. Her voice.
On Vaughn's answering machine, in the most domestic way
possible. Implying that she herself was part of the Vaughn family.
Hearing the phone start to buzz loudly, she hung it up and slipped back out of
the room. Taking off, she ran through the maze of corridors, trying to make it
to the exit she had spotted several days ago.
She came to an end of a hallway and glanced around, making sure no one had
heard her and was coming to check up. Praying that no one was in the room that
connected to the hallway, she opened the door.
The bright lights shocked her eyes, compared to the dim hallways.
"Miss Bristow, are you going anywhere?" a nurse asked, looking up from the
nurses' station.
Sydney blinked her eyes several times. "I… uhh… I had a nightmare. Where am I?" she asked, feigning
confusion.
"I was alerted that you might try to make an escape attempt. Let me call up
another nurse to walk you back to your room," she said, pointing to a chair.
"Have a seat, dear."
--
"You fucking bitch," someone said, a stinging slap crossing her cheek.
"I didn't cheat on you, I swear. You were gone so we went out to
dinner. I swear," she pleaded. Her head slammed against the refrigerator.
"You think I believe your lies? You cheating little whore.
I should have never married you."
"I promise. I swear. I would never lie to you, about anything. We only had dinner.
As friends."
"And you had to wait until I was gone before you could go out with him? You
went behind my back."
"No Michael. It was just convenient. I know you don't like Will," Sydney
gasped, as his hand went to her throat. He gave a harsh squeeze and then let
go, aiming a punch to her cheek.
--
"Please God, Michael. Put it down," she pleaded.
He kept the gun aimed at her head. "You think you can leave? Just
like that?"
Tears and blood were streaming down her face. "Michael, baby, put it down. I won't
leave, I promise. Don't worry about it. I was just upset, baby. I won't leave
you. It's okay. Just put the gun down," she choked out.
"You think saying all that will erase it? You think it will make it better,
saying you're sorry? You cheated on me, and now you're trying to leave. You
think I'll let you out, just like that? You're the one who brought this on,
you," he shouted.
She ducked as Michael grabbed another wine glass and aimed it at her head. "I
love you, baby. Don't do this," she screamed, her voice strangled from sobs.
He pulled the trigger. "Goodbye, bitch."
Sydney awoke sobbing. It took her several
seconds to wipe away the tears from her eyes, and several more to realize she
was back in the white room. She must have fallen asleep while waiting for the
nurse.
Suddenly, she became aware of another presence in the room. Once she spotted
Dr. Walters, the doctor came over and sat on the edge of Sydney's bed and wiped away
the trails the tears had made.
"I assume you've remembered," she said softly, giving Sydney a sad smile.
Sydney took several calming breaths.
"Please, please tell me it wasn't true."
The doctor pushed a loose strand of hair out of Sydney's face. "I'm so
sorry, Sydney."
She sat up straight. "I don't believe you. Vaughn… Michael would never do
that."
"I didn't think you would. I know this has to be excruciating, seeing all of
these memories and not knowing whether to believe them or not. I've scheduled a
visit, if you want, to prove to you the truth of
everything I've said and everything you've remembered."
She looked at Dr. Walters for a moment, trying to keep from hiccupping. "What
do you mean?"
"I can take you to see your husband, if that will help."
--
Sydney sat in the car and stared out the
window, watching the rain make rivers along it. She didn't want to turn and
look ahead; she knew they were getting close to the penitentiary.
She kept her eyes trained to the floor as they made their way in, hardly
lifting her hand when the officer asked to get her fingerprints. She sat next
to Dr. Walters in the waiting room before they were buzzed in.
Sydney only lifted her eyes for a second
when they entered the room, a flash of extreme pain passing over them when she
recognized the man behind the glass. She had stopped walking, standing at the
door and blocking Dr. Walters's entrance.
"You can do it, Sydney," Dr. Walters
whispered behind her.
With that, she walked forward a few steps, until she was directly in front of
Michael Vaughn.
"You tried to kill me," she stated to the floor.
She didn't receive a reply.
"My father beat my mother. She's dead. And you tried to kill me."
This time she got a grunt.
She burst into tears. "It was all a dream, wasn't it?" she asked, turning to
Dr. Walters.
Dr.
Walters gave a small nod.
Sydney fell down against
the wall sobbing.
Go to my room and I close my eyes
I make believe I have a new life
I don't believe you when you say
Everything will be wonderful some day
