I'm so glad tomorrow is Friday. I love my Fridays.
I teeter on the edge of sleep and wakefulness for the rest of the night. Not quite sleeping but not really awake either. That is until the sun drapes its' light over my eyes and I have no choice but to join the real world again. Luckily the restless night kept the nightmares at bay, but their red and blue still aches across my sore muscles with the tension that always makes me feel so tired.
"Good morning, Patient." I wrench up, almost expecting Orderly Hale to be waiting by my bedside. But the voice is too high, too feminine to be his. It matches perfectly to the tiny waif of a girl, on her knees, with her chin tucked right against my mattress, her smile so big I want to trust her even though I know I shouldn't.
"Who are you?"
"Patient Mary," she says and then leans in closer, whispering so quietly I barely hear her, "But everyone calls me Alice."
"Why?"
"I hate my name." Her gray eyes glitter at she watches me carefully.
"Why Alice?"
"I'm still waiting for my rabbit hole to save me."
"Why are you here in my room, Alice."
She scoots back, showing me the bundle of clothes on her lap. "I brought you your uniform."
"Do I have to?"
"Yes, and if you don't Hale will you help." She pauses, waiting as I climb from the bed and start undressing because that's the last thing I want. It's unsetting having this stranger watch me as I strip, but it's nothing new compared to the Girls House back at home. She clicks her tongue and seems almost happy. "You are not his type."
"Who?"
"Hale."
"What?"
"I figured you'd prefer me over him," she says as I pull on the last of my uniform. Soft beige cotton pants and pullover shirt.
"Thank you. How did you know?"
"I saw you coming in. I'm your neighbor."
My eyes flicker to the wall of muffled crying and low groans. "You sleep in the room next to mine?"
"Yes." I hate how she watches me so carefully. Like she knows I heard the horribleness going on last night. But how do I bring it up? How do I acknowledge the abuse? "Things aren't as they seem here."
"They aren't really here to help us, are they?"
"They save us in so many different ways," she says, taking my hand. I jerk away. "It's best to do what they say.""
"I can't accept that." I shake my head no.
"You have to. You're Patient Isabella now, and there's nothing you can do to fight it."