Page 16 of The Pale Rider
am four years old. I’ve been dropped off at the bad place again. A man I love just walked away while I plead for him to stay. I can’t see his face. Only the back of his suit. The two nasty men in lab coats drag me back to a room. It’s the one room I don’t want to go to. There is pain in this room. This is the bad room.
I can see the machine in the center of the room. It’s small. It’s my size. It’s just big enough for a four-year-old, and it’s filled with needles. When I see it, I fight. I fight every time they want to put me in the bad machine. It never works. They are so much bigger than I am.
I will beat them this time. I’m not going in the machine. I manage to break free and run for the door. There’s a keypad to get out. I’m too short to reach it. My small fists pound on the door as I scream for someone to help me.
The bad machine is loud. There are bright lights and a dome of needles. When they turn it on, there is a pounding noise and a bright light that hurts my eyes. The worst part is the needles. The needles press down and puncture my young flesh, even in my face. That is not happening to me today.
Someone grabs me from behind, and I scream. They press their hands over my mouth and nose, and I can hardly breathe. They want me awake on the days they put me in the machine. Sometimes, when I fight, they will inject me with things that make me sleepy, but never on the days they use the bad machine.
I can’t fight it. Two men hold me down as they strap me into the machine. They bring the cover down. I hear the pounding as it’s turned on. The bright lights start flashing. The needles come down towards my face.
I woke up screaming. Why couldn’t my memories ever be pleasant? Aeron kicked the door down and stood in the door frame without a shirt on. I thought he would yell at me for being too noisy, but I saw a look of concern on his face.
“Was it an awful memory?”
I was still shaking, and there were tears on my face.
“If that was real, I know why I have a problem with small spaces now.”
Aeron’s breath hitched.
“I’m sorry, Ariel. Do you want me to stay?”
Did I? I wasn’t sure how much sleep I had gotten or what time it was. I knew I wasn’t getting back to sleep after that nightmare. I could really use the company.
“Yeah, can you?”
Aeron moved Smurfette so she was right between us and laid on top of the covers right next to me. This was so fucking awkward.
“Was that real?” I asked.
“Yes, it was.”
“What was the point of that terrible machine?”
“To take your blood while you were scared.”
“Why would someone do that to me?”
“It was part of a clinical trial. Your father signed you up. It was all very hush-hush, and they were eventually shut down.”
“What were they trying to achieve torturing children? And why can’t I see my father’s face in all these memories?”
“I suppose I can tell you this. You ended up hating your father. You got emancipated when you were fifteen and lived away from him. You put yourself through college and were a hard worker.”
I was glad I ended up hating that fucker because when I was getting memories in my dreams, all I could feel was that I loved him, even if he was just walking away and leaving me in that terrible place. I hoped I eventually paid that bastard back for what he did to me when I was a child.
“Will you tell me what I majored in?”
Aeron always avoided touching me. When he had to, he did things like heaving me on his horse. His finger traced one of the cards on my arm. The Alice in Wonderland sleeves weren’t based on the Disney cartoons or the drawings from the book. They were totally original drawings. It was like a deck of cards exploded from my wrist, and characters from the Alice books intertwined with cards and roses.
“You majored in art. You drew these, you know. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten the urge to draw.”
I held my arm up and studied the art on my arm. Had I drawn this? That was pretty fucking cool. What else could I do?
“Is there a way to get a pen and paper? If I can draw, maybe if I just sat there with a blank piece of paper and a pen, something might come out.”
Aeron was lying next to me like a stick of wood. He wasn’t even looking at me. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was staring straight up at the ceiling.
