Page 12 of However You Want Me

It’s a punishment if we do it. The lying. They scream in our face and the spit and smell of rancid coffee is enough to make me vomit.Liar! Fucking liar!They scream until my chest vibrates. Even if we’re telling the truth.

But they can lie to us. They can say we can’t see through it and we have to agree.

I was so surprised when I saw her sitting there. Her eyes were so wide and scared and sad, and she was still wet. Her hair all around her shoulders, wet and curling. She was shivering and cold, trying to warm herself up without moving. I didn’t expect anyone to be brought in and I wasn’t waiting for it.

I shouldn’t have looked but I remember that day. I don't remember how long ago, it’s been months since I was brought here at this point. Looking though… I shouldn’t have looked. That was just an excuse for more punishment, and my own mistake. I knew looking at her would earn me some strikes, and I knew saying anything about her would earn me more.

I was hoping she was okay though. If she just stays quiet and listens. She doesn’t look like she could take what they do to people here.

I still can’t stop thinking about her and the look on her face. I already know better than to make a face like that, but this girl—this beautiful girl—she’s never seen anything like this before. She doesn’t know what this hell is. She has no idea.

By now, she’s not as innocent as she was when she first got here. They take that from you in the first hour. But she still has no idea how bad it can get. She might even think there’s a chance of getting out.

I flush the toilet, pull up my pants, and wander over to the sink. The staff member at the door sighs and rolls his eyes. If I take too long at the sink, he’ll drag me away by the arm.

I count in my head. Twenty seconds is all you’re allowed. I’m going to wash my hands every chance they give me. It’s one of the only things I can do to stay human, even though by this point there’s not much humanity left.

Like when we had to keep going… although we knew what was happening to her.

During that hour, I didn’t imagine the sounds I heard coming from the office down the hall—the crack of a belt, and anguished cries. I’ll hear those cries for the rest of my life. There’s no doubt in my mind.

It was that girl. That was her voice. She was still human, too. That was her problem.

We’re not allowed to be human here. Our parents send us here to become well-trained animals.

My thoughts fly back to her trying to help. Trying to save someone she doesn’t know. Hell we’re not even allowed to know each other’s names. Maybe from outside of here… the thought hits me.

Did she know him? Is that why she did something so reckless?

He didn’t seem to know her.

Either way, he’ll spend tonight being tortured in a room alone to teach him a lesson.

What lesson?

Don’t know. I don’t think there’s any lesson to be learned at all. They just want to break us so they can send us back to our parents as shells of ourselves. Shells are easier to deal with than a full person, I guess. It’s easier to control a person who doesn’t have any interest in living.

I don’t want to live either. I would rather die than be here.

But that girl’s eyes?—

The way she still cared. I don’t want them to take that away from her.

Her eyes make me want to stay alive. They remind me that there is a world out there. A world where people like that girl can come from. She’s in hell with the rest of us now.

I’ve lost track of how many days I’ve been here. I only know that every time I fuck up, I’m staying for longer. That’s what they always say. I’m adding punishments. I’m adding strikes. I’m adding more days and weeks and months. The only way out is to prove that I’ve learned. I’ve given that a try before. We all have. It never seems to work.

Some of the guys leave eventually. When they behave so well they’re allowed to talk to their parents. Maybe their parents come to their senses. Maybe they finally manage to convince their parents of what’s happening here.

I don’t know. It’s against the rules to tell our parents anything about this place when we are granted the privilege of calling them. When I first got here, I was so mad that I didn’t talk to him even when I was finally allowed. That was months after they dragged me through the front doors.

I figured if he’d sent me to this place, he’d never believe me about what it was like. I still don’t think he’ll ever try to get me out of here. He probably forgot all about me. It’s been so long that he has to figure I’m a lost cause.

I finish washing my hands and shake them dry. There’s no paper towel in here. No hand dryer, either. There used to be a hand dryer at one point, but all that’s left of it is a rectangular dent in the wall where it used to be. Somebody ripped it off the wall before I got here.

I wonder what that was like. I wonder how much they paid for it. More than it was worth. Nothing in this place is worth anything.

“Finally,” the staff member grunts. It’s not like I took extra time at the urinal. I ignore him. I keep my back straight and shoulders up like they tell us. I walk on the barely seen painted line on the floor. It’s the only line we’re allowed to walk on. “Come on.”

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