Hi! Nothing to say up here but I don't own the song in paragraphs 30 and 31. It's name is 'She's Like the Swallow'. It was arranged by Carl Strommen. Alfred Choral Designs (I'm not sure what the last one has to do with the guy who made this song, but always better safe then sorry).
There was a constant voice in the back of Jonathan's head. Some would call it their conscience. But your conscience tells you what is right and what is wrong; this particular voice was the exact opposite. It voiced its opinion when not needed, it told Jonathan what he needed to do (although he hardly ever listened), and most of the time never shut up. The voice was, normally, small enough for Jonathan to block it out and carry on with his daily life, but it was oddly strong today.
There is something about that girl, it said. I think you need to give her the toxins now.
Jonathan just ignored it, like he always did. Yet every time he ignored it, it would get louder. Finally it was so loud that Jonathan said, "NO! Will you please just SHUT UP and leave me alone! I will test her, but it is too soon." The voice in his brain wanted to do nothing but hear her screams. Jonathan did to, but there was more to the experiment then just screams. He also wanted to see the side affects and the after affects. But Jonathan was afraid that that wasn't the only reason holding him back from spraying her.
The voice did have a point, though. Jonathan needed to get on with the experiment.
"So, what is your greatest fear?" Jonathan asked Lena a little bit later.
"What on earth does that have to do with any thing?" she asked with a skeptical look on her face.
"Just answer the question," he said.
"I'm afraid of almost everything," she said quietly.
"Like what?"
"Name one relatively scary thing."
Jonathan searched his brain. "Uhh… Ghosts."
"Yep, I am afraid of almost all of those stupid made up things."
"Snakes?"
"Them and every other reptile known to man."
"Spiders?"
She shuddered. "I am probably have one of the biggest arachnophobias you will ever see. Not to mention the dark, all natural disasters, all bugs, and almost anything else you can think of. I would be here for an entire four days if I had to list all of my fears."
Damn, this is one messed up girl. He thought. "Well, are there things that you can't see that scare you? Like emotions or feelings?"
"Yes, but I'm not going to tell you. Those things are personal."
"But I am a psychiatrist in training; I can help you sort out all of these feelings."
"You may be a psychiatrist in training but I am only here for another 48 hours. It will take longer then 48 hours to sort out all of my problems."
"What do you do for fun?"
"I write stories and I do ballet; my specialty is Point."
"What's Point?"
"You dance on the very tips of your toes." And she was silent once more. She went back to the paper she had been writing on all day.
Jonathan was going to walk away, but his curiosity got the better of him. "What are you writing?"
"It's a story. I'm going to take an advanced writing class at Gotham U, so I wanted to get my writing skills oiled up so I'm not to rusty when school roles around."
I wonder if she is taking a psychology class, it would be interesting to see how she reacts to the people in the class I am teaching. He walked away and said into the recorder, after checking to make sure that Lena couldn't hear, "Subject S has told me what her fears are. In two hours time, I will test the toxins on her." He walked away, wondering which one of Lena's fears he will use against her.
Jonathan had his hand on the door to Lena's room, mask half way, on when he heard faint music. Wait, there are no radios in this part of Arkham, there's not even anyone here but me and Lena.
The music was coming from Lena's room. Jonathan took his mask off and walked to the mirror. He pressed the sound button and what met his ears was a sad, mournful tune.
"She's like the swallow that flies so high, she's like the river that never runs dry, she's like the sun shine on the lee shore; I love my love and love is no more." Lena was on her toes, dancing. Jonathan vaguely remembered her saying something about her specialty in ballet. What was it, sharp? No… but it had to do with something pointy. POINT! That was it, Point. She was amazing at it. Her movements were as fluid and smooth as water. She looked as if she had practiced these moves more times then she had had to say her name.
"It's out of wild roses she made a bed, a stony pillow for her head. She laid her down no word she spoke, until this fair maid's heart was broke." Her voice was amazing also; just as fluid and smooth as her dance. Jonathan found himself feeling sorry for the maiden in the story. He shook his head to break the trance Lena's words had over him, but it was no use. It was to mesmerizing to look away, let alone go in there and make her stop. "She's like the swallow that flies so high, she's like the river that never runs dry. She's like the sun shine on the lee shore; I love my love and love is no more." She finished a pirouette and stood there. She sank to her knees and with tears slowly falling to the ground, she finished the song. "I love my love and love is no more." She let out a sob and her shoulders heaved up and down.
There was a sudden pang of pity in Jonathan's heart. With all thoughts of the experiment pushed from his mind, he wanted to go in there and put his arms around her. Kiss her like she had never been kissed before, if only for a moment. Just some sign of affection to let her know that she is loved. Whoa! Hold on there, Jonathan. Said the voice in the back of his head. She is a test subject; you can't be feeling these things! You were about to go in there and relish in her fears! She is in a vulnerable state and that is the perfect time to test the toxins on her!
Jonathan was having an internal crisis. He did need to test the toxins, but he was feeling these odd feelings for Lena that he had never felt before. He looked at her, sobbing on the cold padded floor, and he wanted nothing more then to go in there and show her that he cares about her.
He shook his head and chalked the feelings up to not enough sleep. I'm not thinking straight. He thought. I'll just go home and sleep it off. Tomorrow will be better. I won't hesitate or stop for anything. He told himself. But he never believed himself.
Sorry for the delay. I have been really sick with the flu and it is kind of hard to write a story when you are praying to the porcelain god. But I took a bunch of Advil so the room would stop spinning long enough for me to write this chapter; it's not as long as I would have hoped, but it will have to make do for now.
Olympia-mg and Blodeuedd: Thank you two for always remembering to review. I will be sure to thank each of you individually in the next chapter. But the Advil is wearing off and the room is slowly starting to spin again.
Thank all of you for reading my story, I love you all!
Love,
Celia
