The Institute (14 page)

My face is
still stinging from my beating and my eyes are still raw from my
tears. All I want to do is drop off to sleep but I can’t relax
enough to let it happen. Could it really have been just a few days
ago that I had Dad, my home, a life, a brother and a boyfriend? I
guess it could be longer, I have no idea what the time or date is.
Everything got messed up because of that stupid tour of the
Institute, all of my problems stem back to this place.

Words cannot
describe how upset I am over Drew. I never thought I would be one
of those girls that let herself be so blinded by a boy, that she
didn’t see how badly he treated her. How could I have fallen for
his act?

Actually I know
why – I fell for it because he never treated me badly, not once. We
never even had a disagreement. I think I have never been this
disappointed in myself. Before Drew, I had one concern and that was
protecting Shilah and now look where falling for a boy has got me.
I’m in a cell with a swollen eye, unwashed, tired and crying; I’ve
never felt more alone. Or pathetic.

“Oh my god,
shut up, shut up, shut up,” I hear someone say. I don’t know what
he is referring to, it is dead quiet in here … great, I have been
put in a cell next to the crazy person who talks to himself.

“You can hear
me?” the voice asks. I really hope he doesn’t talk to himself all
night. “No, I’m talking to you, the new girl, the one who has never
felt more alone.”

“Me?” I ask.
The voice doesn’t respond, maybe I’m the crazy one.

I’m startled by
a buzzing noise and my cell door sliding open. I sit up on my bed
and cower on the end of it with my legs tucked up to my chest. I
don’t know what is happening but all I can think is that they are
back to finish what they started. I think my fears are confirmed
when a guard comes through the door but he doesn’t drag me back
upstairs like I’m expecting him to, he picks up the scrubs from the
floor and throws them at me.

“Get dressed,
it’s meal time,” he stays, standing at the door until I comply. He
at least turns around when I get dressed. When I am dressed, he
walks me out into a room full of other pyjama wearing prisoners.
They are all in a line, waiting to be served their food at the end
of the corridor where the kitchen must be.

Now that I can
get a good look at where I am, I see that there is a second story
of cells upstairs as well. I try to count how many people are in
the line and I lose count around twenty-something.

The guard walks
me straight past everyone in the line and takes me right to the
front and cuts in. I can feel the stares burning into the back of
my head. I’m guessing the guard doesn’t want me making any friends
today.

“Hi Deke, we
need an introductory meal – we got another new one,” the guard says
to the tall, gangly man behind the counter. He nods and walks back
into the kitchen. He has a long greying goatee that looks dirty,
and it is creeping me out that this man is preparing my food.

He returns with
a plate that has a small square of ‘food’ in the middle of it. I
use the word food quite loosely because it resembles a brick more
than anything edible. “What’s in it?” I ask. The guard and Deke
start laughing.

“That’s not
really your concern,” says my guard.

“Well it is my
concern if you expect me to eat it.”

“We only have
to supply you with food to maintain your health. It is up to you if
you eat it or not,” he replies. “Now move,” he says, pointing at my
tray for me to pick it up.

We walk back to
where there are tables, round metal ones and stools that are bolted
to the ground on the main floor, just outside everyone’s cells. I
look at the other prisoners already sitting at their tables, it
feels like I’m the new girl in school again. I have to choose where
to sit and I can’t choose wrong; this will determine my status for
however long I am in here for. I’m still trying to decide when my
guard grabs my arm and escorts me to an empty table, right in the
middle of everyone else, like I’m on display. He then stands three
feet behind me, clearly sending the message that no one is to come
near me.

I feel naked,
exposed, like I’m wearing a flashing sign that says ‘fresh meat’. I
can feel the eyes staring at me, wondering what I am going to do
with the cards I have been dealt. Will I break down? No, that’s
what they all want. I bite into the loaf of food I have been given
and I struggle to get it down; it’s chewy yet dry. I didn’t know it
was possible to experience such conflicting tastes at the same
time. It tastes like I’m eating chalk but I’m not going to let it
get the better of me, I will finish this and hold my head up high …
and then maybe run to my cell and throw it all back up.

I keep nibbling
at it and I’m so close to finishing, but I’m starting to really
struggle. I really wanted to give up a few bites ago but I just
keep telling myself to have one more bite, then another. Always
just one more bite. My mouth is dry and I could really do with some
water right about now.

“You can do
it,” I hear a voice say. I turn to my guard who still towers above
me.

“Did you say
something?” my voice comes out as dry as my mouth feels.

He raises his
eyebrow at me, “No. Are you done here?” He goes to take my tray
away.

“No I’m not. I
just thought you said something.” I take my tray back.

“Well I didn’t.
Hurry up, I don’t have all day to babysit you,” he complains as I
take another bite.

“Look at the
guy two tables to your right, light brown hair,” the voice says. It
sounds like the voice from earlier. I look to my right and see only
a table of women. “Sorry, my bad, you’re on my right. Look to your
left.” I look to my left and see a table with two guys sitting at
it, one blond who has his back to me and one with light brown hair
who is staring at me out of the corner of his eye.
‘That’s me,
hi’
, I hear his voice. He gives a slight head nod, but nothing
actually comes out of his mouth when he says it.

Okay, I
think I’m going crazy
. “What the actual f …” I blurt out, but
stop myself from finishing that sentence. The guy smiles.

‘
Tate, my
name is Tate. I think your guard is getting impatient, you better
take another bite … and don’t worry, the food gets a little better
after a while, not by a lot but it is at least edible.’

I take another
bite of my food but keep staring at Tate.
What is going on? Are
you doing this? How can you know what I’m thinking? How can I know
what you are thinking?

‘
Really? You
don’t know?’

Know what?
Treat me as if I am the slowest person on the planet because right
now I feel like it.

‘
Well, to
simply put it: You’re telepathic.’

Telepathic?
That doesn’t make any sense, nothing like this has ever happened
before.

I take the last
bite of what they call food here and manage to swallow it, just.
When I look up from my plate, I see that I have had an audience
this whole time. The other prisoners start cheering and clapping; I
have impressed them.

‘
Well that
was pretty bad ass, I don’t think I know of anyone who has actually
finished the whole brick on their first go,’
Tate informs
me.

My guard grabs
my arm hard, just above my elbow and drags me back to my cell. He’s
clearly not as impressed with my accomplishment as the others are.
He shuts my cell door and leaves, I go and lay down on my bed; the
brick is already not sitting right.

So, can you
still hear me?
I ask.

‘
Yes.’

I don’t really
understand how this whole telepathy thing works.

‘
Really? Are
you sure nothing like this has ever happened to you before? It’s
strange for someone to be brought in who is unaware that they are
Defective.’

They have
started giving everyone blood tests. They have worked out how to
diagnose a defect before any symptoms occur, apparently it’s in our
DNA – although until this moment I was sure the test was defective,
not me. I’m definitely sure this has never happened before.

‘
I don’t see
how those tests would work. They don’t know what causes it so they
wouldn’t know what to look for.’

Well
apparently, they figured it out. How did you know what I could
do?

‘
I thought
you could hear me earlier, when I … umm …’

Told me to shut
up?

‘
Oh, yeah.
I’m sorry about that, I wouldn’t have thought it if I knew you
could hear me. It’s hard having this ability sometimes. I have
learnt to tune a lot of it out but you were pretty loud.’

Sorry, I didn’t
realise there was a volume control on my thoughts.

Tate laughs.
‘There isn’t, but the more emotional someone is, the louder
their thoughts. You were pretty angry.’

That’s an
understatement. Angry doesn’t begin to cover it. How long have you
been here for?
I ask him.

‘
About a
month, at least I think it has been about that long, I really have
no idea. You don’t exactly get a calendar down here. Someone
informed on me and I got arrested … Ha, arrested. More like
abducted.’
I smile at the fact we both called it the same
thing.
‘I was thrown into a room … numerous rooms actually and
beaten senseless day after day, each day bringing a new form of
torture to try and get me to talk, until one day they finally gave
up. I can’t tell you how long it went on for, weeks I think. It’s
so hard to tell what the time is when you’re inside all day. The
only real indication is meal time. We’re all down here because they
made a mistake in arresting us and need to bury the evidence. They
think we are all hiding our abilities and we are all guilty when we
aren’t. Well most of us aren’t, but they can’t let any of us go
now, not after what they have done. It would get out, how they
really treat people here.’

I sit up on my
bed, stunned. I can feel the tears swelling up in my eyes, not only
because I have just realised that I have more of what I endured
yesterday ahead but because I have just been told a harsh truth … I
really am, never getting out of here.

Just the
thought of being in this cell forever makes me want to break down
and sob but I refuse to get upset over what they have done to me, I
will not give them the satisfaction. I need to be strong right now,
I’m never going to make it in this place if I’m bawling every five
minutes. I’m going to have to try focusing on not crying for once,
I’m done with crying; I’m too angry for crying.

I hear Tate
apologise,
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been ranting like that.
The last thing you need is to be scared even more. It is hard to
accept what has happened when you’re thrown in here, but I promise
you at some point it will get easier. It’s particularly difficult
to see a light at the end of the tunnel in the beginning – their
entire goal is to break you any which way they can. They try and
beat information out of you, they isolate you from the others, make
you eat tasteless, hard bricks of food all in the hope that they
can break you enough that you will bend to their every wish. But
you have a bargaining chip now. Now that you know what you can do,
you can use it to get what you want.’

What do you
mean?
I ask.

‘
They need
people like us to do their dirty work. Do you really think they
would risk the lives of normal people while interrogating highly
‘dangerous’ Defective people like you or me? You’ll find the
majority of the staff are Defective here. The better the ability,
the better the job. For instance, a lot of our guards are actually
Defective, but have been not so blessed in the ability department.
You know the guard who just escorted you to breakfast?’

Oh so that was
breakfast was it? I was wondering what meal that was meant to
be.

‘
Yes, it’s
generally porridge for breakfast every day here … unless you’re on
the interrogation diet, unfortunately that brick doesn’t ever get
any tastier. But anyway, your guard Ty, he can literally hover two
feet off the ground, that’s his whole ability. Not so impressive,
right? So he gets thrown down here where he can feel superior
against us. He’s out of the Institute’s way but is still doing his
little part to make sure this place runs smoothly. Deke, the cook –
he actually has a pretty cool ability – he’s telekinetic, he can
move objects with his mind, but his biggest downfall is it’s quite
weak, he can’t move very heavy objects and he needs to be close for
it to work. They tried training him, they tried to get him to
harness his ability and make it stronger, but gave up when he
wasn’t improving. So he was sent down here to work, just like Ty.
Not all of the staff are cranky about it like Ty though, a lot of
them are very sympathetic and will help you out any way they can,
there’s just the select few guards who are living high on a power
trip.’

Is that why you
haven’t told them what you can do? You don’t want to work for
them?

‘
There are
many reasons I haven’t. The main one being that they would love to
get their hands on an ability like mine, like ours. Could you
imagine what they would make us do? My guess would be we would see
the inside of a lot of interrogation rooms, only we will be the one
asking the questions, not answering them.’

How do you
know all of this?
I ask.

‘
That’s a
pretty long story. Short version? My cousin was arrested a few
weeks ago but he is co-operating with them, he comes and visits me
every day and tells me what goes on up there. Plus, it’s also
pretty easy to listen in when no one realises you can hear what
they are thinking. I get a lot of information from the guards that
way.’