Chapter9 terror of not understanding
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Sands stirred. Where was he? His mind felt groggy and fuzzy. At first he thought maybe he'd done too many drugs and drank too much with Jason the night before. He slowly opened his eyes expecting to find to find Jason next to him. He wondered if he had any idea what they had done the night before because he remembered nothing.
"Jas?" he started opening his eyes. He bit back a gasp that threatened to escape him. He was alone in a small room and seemed to have a number of drips and needs attached to him. "What the fuck?" he cursed trying to move but his body didn't seem to want to cooperate with his mind. What the hell was going on? He thought to himself.
The situation seemed horribly familiar yet also foreign. It was the uncertainly between the two that he found the most disturbing. He was struggling to work out where he was and why he was hooked up to all these machines that pumped him full of shit.
This had happened to him before. He groaned. "No…no," he muttered he couldn't do this again. Memories plagued him. He tried to fight against them. He lashed out at invisible bodies around him trying to get them away from him.
The doctor who had been monitoring Sands through the small glass panel noticed this. He made his way quickly to his room just as Sands was in the midst of a horrific terror of a past experience.
He tried to fight against them. He didn't want another one. "Just take it," the cold voice coaxed the six year old boy. The boy lay on the floor tears threatening to fall. He fought them back he had learnt by now crying only made everything worse.
"No please," he protested weakly before he could stop himself.
"I've had enough of this. Now just bloody take it. Before he could struggle of protest any further the pill was forced into his move. A hand clamped over his mouth leaving him no other option than to swallow.
"Good boy," he said.
There was a blackness covering him. He didn't fight it. He didn't see the point in fighting it. He knew there was no way he was going to win. He just wished he could understand why his father insisted he took these pills. He never found out, although he had a few ideas. He didn't even want to think about them.
The doctor looked worriedly at the machine that was monitoring his brain activity. He didn't like what he saw. The activity gave him an idea that the patient was awake but was clearly in the midst of a deep terror or flashback.
Sands was confused. Similar things had happened to him when he was taken away from his parents. They gave him things like that. They did the same thing. They said they were going to help him but they were doing the same things to him.
Why was it happening again now? Who was it that was doing this to him? Was it his parents? No it couldn't be they were gone weren't they? Then that must mean he was back in that place. He wasn't sure what was worse.
He came back to reality a little and realised someone was watching him. He opened his eyes and saw a doctor standing over him. "Get out," he demanded. His voice soundly worryingly shaky even to him.
"Sheldon, please relax. I only want to help you," the doctor said as he furiously scribbled down notes on him.
"I only want to help you…"
The words triggered many bad memories. Years ago, the last time he had been there all the doctors kept saying they wanted to help him. They pumped him full of drugs. They kept trying to make him remember what he didn't want to remember. He couldn't deal with this again but he couldn't break either. That left him the big problem of what could he do?
The doctor continued to watch Sands with more and more unease. He knew he had a lot of works to do with Sands.
