The Wall

I didn’t speak, just nodded. I knew if I opened my mouth the words ‘let me go’ would fly out and I would be back to square one. She pursed her lips at my response and then continued.

Painfully and methodically, Doctor Yashin reached up and drew down two of the hoses that were attached to the glass coffin. She pulled them through the glass and attached them to a catheter needle. She pushed one needle into my arm, which was not too bad. But the other one, she inserted under my scalp and it hurt like hell. I scrunched up my eyes and dug my fingernails into my palms until she was done. I felt like a pincushion science experiment, a potato battery.

“Ok. I’m going to step back now and the box will be lowered. Don’t worry. In your case, it should only take five minutes. I warn you, it will hurt a great deal.” She moved my chin so I was facing the ceiling. “Keep your head straight.” She patted my arm gently, and pulled away the sheet, disappearing from view.

I thought the being naked part would be awful but I was completely distracted by the fact that a giant glass box was being lowered over my body. It dangled and swayed until the mechanical arms took over and straightened it into place. I heard the sound of air sucking and knew I was sealed in. I was a spider under a drinking glass, my mind scuttling and straining to find purchase on the straight edges. Breathe, I kept telling myself. But I was holding it and then gasping for short bursts.

“Relax!” I heard the doctor shout again. “It will start in ten seconds.”

I thought, Is she joking? How could anyone relax in here?

I counted.

One, I watched all but four hoses retract from the box and the mechanical arms seal the holes with rubber stoppers.

Two, a cycling, whirring noise began, like someone was spi

Three, something clicked into place.

Four, the whirring stopped and a humming began.

Five, the whirring started again and sounded faster.

Six, I couldn’t breathe. I needed to get out.

Seven, I could see blue liquid tracking down the tubes, entering my glass sarcophagus, and a blue gas filling the box.

Eight, I held my breath, not wanting to inhale the gas.

Nine, it felt cool when the blue liquid hit my skin and I could feel it spreading through my body.

Ten, I had to breathe, my body convulsed, and I drew in the gas, which dried my throat instantly and burrowed into my insides like a thousand needles.

Now I understood why they restrained me. Oh my God, please. Please, someone kill me. Kill me now.

Five minutes of this was four minutes and fifty-nine seconds too long. I screamed and strained. I lifted my hips off the table as my body fought against the pain. My eyeballs felt like they were trying to jump out my head. I was aware of every drop of that liquid as it moved through my veins, burning the vessels as it went. I prayed for death—I prayed for anything to end it. I begged for them to stop but my strangled screams were met with silence.

“Rosa, it will end in 3… 2… 1. Try to stay awake.”

I blinked away tears, sure my eyeballs were bleeding, sure my whole body was burnt to a crisp. But after a few seconds, the pain released its grasp on my body and I felt fine. No, better than fine. The glass coffin rose above my head, wobbling, and the doctor appeared in my view again. Carefully removing the needles, she felt my head. The clamps released and I put my hand to my head, surprised to find a few centimeters of hair had grown to cover my bald spot. I was then suddenly reminded of my nakedness and swung up to grab the sheet on the floor. The dizziness I’d been feeling from my concussion was gone. The dull ache in my wrist was gone too. I felt like I could run for miles and never tire.

I gave Deshi a look, which he returned with concern. “I have to get back to work, Rosa. I hope you are feeling better.” He strolled quickly out of the room, anxious not to get caught up in my plans. Careen and Pietre came in right after him.

“Cool, huh?” Careen bubbled excitedly and I couldn’t help but grin back. Yes, it was pretty impressive.

Pietre just stared down at his dirty fingernails and muttered unsympathetically, “We could hear you screaming from the other end of the labs.”

The doctor cut my cast off and I dressed quickly under my sheet, telling them to turn their backs as I buttoned my shirt. I didn’t miss the scoff from the boy soldier. Finished, I jumped up quickly, like lightning.

“Thanks, Doctor,” I said casually.

“You’re welcome,” she replied in amusement. “Just try and take it easy. You will feel strong but you will also have a reduced sensitivity to pain. I don’t want to see you back here again.” I nodded. She pulled me to her side and whispered in my ear. “I was truly sorry to hear about what happened to you.”

I blushed. I didn’t know everyone knew about it. And it made very uncomfortable to think people pitied me.

“Um, thanks.” I didn’t really know how to respond. She nodded and left, pressing something into Pietre’s hand as she glided out the door. He muttered to her with a scary smile on his face.

He turned to me, still hanging in the door like he didn’t want to step into the room. “Here, take these,” he said flippantly.

Two pills flew in an arc towards me. I caught one fuzzy-edged pill in my palm but the other rolled under a trolley.

“Why? What for?” I stammered as Pietre let the door slowly close between us.

“Because if you don’t, you’ll die,” he said sharply, the words slicing through the closing gap like an arrow.

I jumped off the table like a spring and scrambled to find the second pill. Pushing the trolley aside, it clanged into the wall and bounced back towards me. My fingers grasped the powder-white disc and I carefully held it, worried my new strength would turn it to dust. I shoved them both in my mouth, feeling them grazing my throat as I swallowed them without water. I was about to yell a tirade of abuse at Pietre when a ripple of nausea rolled through me like a tidal wave. I turned to the bucket placed neatly at the foot of my bed and vomited pure blue.

Careen’s perfect face appeared in the doorway. She cracked a pristine smile as I raised my head from my bucket. I wiped the tears from my eyes, my hands streaked blue. Puzzled, I looked to her for explanation.

“Oh yeah,” she said, flipping her hair behind her ear. “Don’t wear any white for a while.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully with a slender, white finger. “Actually you’re safer to just wear blue for a few days. You’re go

“Fascinating,” I said sarcastically as I turned back to my bucket to continue emptying the contents of my stomach. Now I understood why the doctor seemed displeased that I had eaten.

I heard a tapping. I followed Careen’s foot to her face. “What?” I asked, irritated.

She looked uncomfortable. “Um, we’ll just wait outside until you’re finished, ok?”

I was about to say, ‘fine’, when the rumble of nausea overtook me again.

The door pressed shut.

As we left, after the vomiting fireworks, I asked Dr. Yashin what the pills were for.

“The liquid can’t stay in your system for more than fifteen minutes, or your body starts to shut down,” she said matter-of-factly.

I gulped. “What do you mean?”

“Just imagine how you felt in the procedure times a hundred, then suddenly, everything just ends,” she said, playing with her glasses chain.

“I don’t remember Joseph crying blue tears,” I muttered.

Pietre whistled low and said, “Maybe he’s not as big a baby as you.” I couldn’t even be bothered glaring at him.

Dr. Yashin shook her head disapprovingly. “Yes, I heard about his operation. They took his heart out, injected the blue solution, and then injected the antidote minutes later. This was done before they placed it inside his body.”