Explosions. Screams. Commands. Sirens. Footsteps. Crashes. Car tires screeching over asphalt. Doors closing like thunder. The sounds merged until they became an indistinguishable wholesome. Sometimes glass shattered in her ears or shrill bells rung. The next moment they were gone and whether they had ever really been there, or were nothing more than a misplaced memory, would never be known. Gradually, the noises were smothered. They faded, until they were but ticks and bleeps. Ticks and bleeps that continued as irregularly and persistently as ever. It became hard to tell which sound came from the machines and which came from within her own mind. Every tick felt like a tap on her throbbing head. Every beep seemed to rouse an electric spark in her ears. The more attention she tried to pay to them, the more the sounds blurred together.

She opened her eyes but the world around her existed only of screaming whites. She blinked a few times but every glance pierced her head. How she hated that light. How nauseous it made her. Was she drifting on a sea that was stormy one moment and icily silent the next? Was she being swayed by a faceless mother? Was she awake? No. She inhaled but her head felt light and breathless. This was not reality. She was not conscious. She could not be. This could only be another damned hallucination. Again. Always the same game, wasn't it? She tried to laugh. Or maybe she didn't. Just wait. She just had to wait. Live through that constant strain that held her body in its grip. Listen to the bleeps that lulled her into death. She just had to wait. This was just a little fragment of misery that brooded in her guts. Just a bit of mould and rust that grew onto her ribs and bones.

A shadow hovered over her. It brought relief to her eyes and she stared at it without attempting to distinguish any features. If only things could stay like that. If only she could fall back asleep and slip away from all the light, never to wake up to it again.

A voice blew her tiredness away. She couldn't grasp the words or any meaning, but a spark was kindled and pulled another sort of strain on her body. She blinked feverishly, reaching out a hand towards the dark figure. It had no face and no name or personality; all she knew was that she needed it. Her head spun as she rose from her lying position. Gravity swayed around her and she tried to hold onto something. They had surrounded her. They had enclosed her. She had to flee but her thoughts were smothered by the ceaseless background noises. She had to clear her mind but only one word was sharp enough to distinguish itself from that hot strain. Escape. Escape. Escape.

"You're going to listen to me and lie down right now."

The noise died away under those words. As soon as they were said, she had forgotten their meaning again. But that low, deep voice remained, resonating in her head. She could almost feel the flames around her again. Her skin tingled. Words from a child's mouth were chimed in her ear. I don't need to escape. She looked up to the two eyes of a stranger. Someone in a soldier uniform she didn't recognise. Someone. She was not alone. I will not flee. She closed her eyes and could almost feel herself being picked up in the air again. I will face death, she inhaled shakily and felt ashes burning in her lungs, and choose to live. But she wasn't picked up. When she opened her eyes she saw no strange soldier, and she felt no arms holding her up protectively. There was no barrier between her and the non-existing fire. Instead, two hands pushed her down, separating her only from that whiteness.

"Clarence," She breathed, barely aware of her own words. "Clarence. Clare-" Her voice was so thin she couldn't hear it anymore. But her lips kept on moving. She didn't know whether she was making any noise or not.

"Be silent, Five."

She smiled. Or at least she tried to. The world grew quiet once again and delightfully still. Good old Clarence. Always ordering her around. But, when it came to action, he was the first one to disregard her disobedience. It was what she euphemised as a part of that "American Freedom". So, as she had always done, she ignored his warnings, orders, or whatever he liked to call them. She tried to swing her legs over the edge of the bed.

"Five," He snapped, suddenly pinning her down harshly on the bed. He leaned over her. She had the impression that his anger floated in the air like pollen from a flower. It was hard to breathe. "One move and I will make sure you will not stir for the coming two days."

She grinned, but had already given in. All energy she had had just a moment ago oozed out of her body, leaving her behind just as tired as before but painfully conscious. Clarence leant back but held one hand on her arm, as if she would truly still be able to run off any given moment.

"Why, Clarence? I want to-"

"No." He interrupted her, something he rarely did. "You will not do anything."

The agitation in his voice charmed her. She cocked her head slightly, the usual teasing smile on her lips. "What happened?" He clenched his jaw. She couldn't guess what disasters were weighing down on him, but she could see how heavy they were, ruining his posture. Such slumped shoulders and dark circles; the gentleman was losing his perfect image. "Did one of our bombs go off?" Even though technically no one would be able to blame them, a man like Clarence would feel guilty. "Or did they escape? Did they humiliate us? Are the Japanese being inhospitable? Did your boss-"

"Enough," He sliced through her sentence, dooming the rest never to be said out loud. "If you dare to oppose me one more time, I will, I will-"

"Sorry, Clarence," She mused studying her spotlessly cleaned nails, "This is the part where I apologize, isn't it? Sorry for ruining whatever I ruined."

Suddenly his hand cupped her cheek. His knuckles were white but he resisted digging his nails into her skin. "Are you listening to me Five? You no longer have the permission to do whatever pleases you. No matter what clever plan you've got in mind. You will shut up and do exactly as I say." He spoke so quickly that she sometimes thought she might miss a word. Maybe he wasn't speaking that fast. Her head was still light and tingly.

"You're trying to make a puppet out of me? How mean," She gave him a defiant look, despite not having the strength to sound convincing.

His hand relaxed. She watched him. He searched for something, and with every passing second she knew that he wouldn't find whatever it was. It was too easy to tell that he knew this too. It just added up to all the times he had tried to find it before.

He let her go and turned away from her. Without another word, he stood up and headed out. He disappeared behind a white door and after that soft little click of the door closing, the wave of arrhythmic machine noises rolled over her again. The light blinded her and she felt herself sinking away in the hospital bed, but not quite deep enough. I will not escape.

She tried to breathe. There was no oxygen in the air. Nothing to feed her body with. She couldn't move, and her limbs grew cold and stiff. I will stay.

Her hollow head had become a playfield of noises. It sunk into her body until the throbbing numbness had filled her up completely. Only her chest remained suspiciously cold and still. No throb or ache there. And she wondered, without really wondering anything, whether she had a heart. I will,

She wanted to disappear. To fade away. To shut down. Was that too much to ask for? Of course it was. She couldn't, she couldn't. I will,

"Clarence," She breathed and closed her eyes, losing her thoughts amidst a sea of mawkish misery.

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