The Beast and Me (22 page)

Day 81

How am I able to sleep? How? ... With all this happening now? With me turning into this person I don’t recognize. This reflection that looks at me through the mirror seems too familiar and still I wouldn’t say that she’s me.

My puzzlement about my capability to sleep was exactly what gave me this amazing idea. ... Amazing, and yet cruel. The latter... I just consider it payback.

I never thought that I’d be that calculating.

The easiest part was being weak. Because that’s just what they want me to be: a scared, crying, weak girl. So not keeping it together, being a good thing can be quite... relaxing. I was a total mess this morning. After the workout from yesterday and Peter’s intrusion I didn’t even have to act worn out. I was. But it was mostly because I had faked sleeping until after the second check-up, because I expected Peter to show up again and I wanted to be prepared. However, it wasn’t him.

Peter brought me Breakfast earlier and saw how awful I looked, instantly switching into ‘pretending-to-care’ mode. Maybe he really does, maybe it’s just a fake, or maybe he’s secretly the boss here. Maybe I’m finally starting to become paranoid, not that this is a bad thing here, right?

Somehow it’s keeping me safer.

I know that the only one I can trust here is Jay, can’t I? I mean, he’s more than just a prisoner like me, he’s a test subject. And I know he cares about me, I can feel that.

Yes, I know, I want him to care. But White – I mean Severin – he couldn’t have known that I was eavesdropping, and he said that he thinks that Jay is more than just attached to me. He said that.

This can’t all be a fake.

And there’s another reason why I know that it’s not: because otherwise it means this all would be about me. And it’s never about me.

However, I asked him if it was possible for me to get something that I would be able to sleep, something solely for falling asleep, because I would be afraid that I wouldn’t wake up easily. Peter said he would see what he could do. He doesn’t know that I’m not intending to use it myself. Why am I grinning as I write this?

“Do you want to skip training and try to sleep?” he asked me and he was so nice, speaking softly, smiling slightly but worried.

I almost feel bad for using him. Still, I can’t believe that he really cares about me. Somehow I think that’s what White wants him to do, so that I stop caring about Jay that much, and start to care for a human being.

The irony is: Jay probably is more human or humane than any of them. Because the scariest monster down here is definitely White and he has infected me with his poison.

Still, I keep wondering if this is really his intention, to get me to care less about Jay. I don’t really understand why he would want that? Not that Severin is that kind of man one does easily understand, or understand at all. Does he want me to be scared?

It’s the only thing I can really think of.

That he’s trying to keep me away from Jay until I started to fall for someone else. So that he will scare the Hell out of me just like in the beginning. Does he know so little about human connection?

However, I skipped it: training. I’m still sore because of yesterday and now I’m trying to sleep again.

White, fucking White came to visit me when I was just about to fall asleep. Can you imagine that he seemed to be worried? He? The sadist dungeon keeper of Mount Doom? Well, he was and he brought me something that would help me sleep. It comes along in little bags that look like sugar – which can’t be more perfect.

Still, I don’t know or understand what’s happening right now. And he apologized for being so hard on me, told me that I would have to understand that he cannot tolerate my behavior towards him. I played the little ashamed girl he wants me to be. I can’t look him in the face anyhow or I’d try to scratch his eyes out. I hate him. I never hated anyone so much in my life. I think, I never really knew what hate was like until I met this offense against humanity. And I had to let him touch me. Because he had to comfort me and I had to make him believe that it worked. Maybe I should become an actress when I get out of here because I seemed to achieve that.

Sugar bags. Let’s hope it’s not just sugar, or even worse:  a placebo.

However, he told me that I should take them just a few minutes before going to sleep, which was why he brought me tea, so I could make myself some, though I would have to take the water from the tap. I don’t care that the tea won’t taste good, that stuff has to work. We’ll see.

Day 82

I’m sitting at breakfast and I never felt that badass in my life before. I can’t believe I managed to do that and I don’t really dare to be happy about it either because I really don’t know if they will catch me. I don’t want to count my chickens before they’ve hatched. So I write this down now, because I don’t want them to notice. I know they watch me somehow as long as the lights are on.

This all happened yesterday, I was too nervous to write.

I really didn’t expect that it would be so easy. I mean, I tested White’s ‘sugar’ on myself last night and it worked. I really dozed off quickly and slept right through the night and I didn’t even feel worn out, so I knew it would work, at least for me. I knew I wasn’t going to see him – Jay, and maybe I won’t today. Tonight, I am sure of it, but it’s about yesterday now. Still can’t believe that it worked, still afraid that they will storm in and punish me. Even more now, I will have to restrain myself. I know I have to be reasonable. Constant dripping wears away the stone.

After breakfast, Peter brought me to the gym again. I acted shyer than the day before, but looked at him briefly. Apparently this worked and he thought that I was conflicted about him overreacting and hence my change of behavior. So it was him, who asked me this time: “Do you want me to stay for Dinner?”

I created a tormenting pause before I spoke and looked up to him by almost only moving my eyes: “Dinner?”

“There’s no one there later.”

His reply was cryptic, but I figured that White, I mean Severin – why do I keep correcting myself? – Wouldn’t be there tonight.

On one hand, this was perfect, on the other this meant: no Jay – and that’s why I believe that I’m going to see him today – Day 83, even though it’s not a straight day. And I still am worried sick and that was what I showed just then, to Peter, yesterday.

“I don’t have to...” he quickly added, interpreting my second pause just the way I had expected him to.

And I let him leave like that, because... well because I asked him when he brought my dinner, if he would stay.

“And maybe even a little bit longer, until I fall asleep, and maybe hold me”, I added, pretending to ask my Dad if I could get another bowl of ice cream. “It will be quick; you won’t get in any trouble. I’ll make myself tea that will help me sleep.”

Yes, exactly: I offered him some as well, which I could because White always makes sure my stuff comes in twos – probably because he intends to drink a tea with me as well some time – and Peter said ‘yes’ and I mixed that sleeping powder into his tea.

I did that. I really, really did that. I know it was a risk, but I needed to try and I did. This was one of those situations during Thrillers when I always shook my head and said: “That’s far too easy.”

And yes, it felt exactly like that: far too easy.

I have never done anything in my life without being absolutely sure that I would be safe. I still can’t believe I did this, I never expected that of myself and that is maybe why they won’t suspect me either.

I know the checkup times, and I knew they would come at midnight and at three. As always I knew that the day before Peter had been my 12 am check-up so I guessed that it would be his again, especially since he had told me before that no one else would be there. I freaking guessed! Because, even though Peter said something like that, one can never be sure down here.

So, after Dinner, I told Peter that I would get ready to get to bed, which basically means that I get rid of my bra and panties. With him being my ‘guest’ I did that in my bathroom. And I took quite some time, washed my face – which I never did that copiously – brushed my teeth and breathed in and out several times. Just to torture him, just to let him imagine that I would get in and out of my clothes. I’m such a witch. And retrospectively I probably did trust him that he wouldn’t get in the bathroom with me and... well... you know what.

After I stepped out, I quickly crawled under my sheets, not looking at him, which wasn’t an act. I simply couldn’t, without beating myself up over Jay. Peter stayed seated, watching me and eventually started to talk, about what I can’t recall anymore exactly. I mean, he had told me that he would wait for the lights to go out, because they wouldn’t see him get on my bed and put his arm around me. He already looked tired before nighttime lighting kicked in.

When it did, I waited.

As nothing happened for a brief moment I hoped and was scared that he already had fallen asleep on the chair.

On one hand, I would have preferred that, because the thought made me feel less exploiting, but then again Peter would probably be much more suspicious about him falling asleep in the first place. So I asked him if it was really okay if he stayed here and Peter assured me that no one would know. His voice already sounded drowsy. Then, finally, I heard him move, and his steps were a bit heavier than I was used to.

“I guess”, he murmured, “The last days have taken their toll on me as well.”

These words made me suspicious, because they told me that he had been doing something else than just watching over me.

I had barely noticed how my mattress moved as he sat down and lay down next to me, until he wrapped his arm around my waist, keeping a decent distance between us.

“Did you know about my punishment?” I asked him, knowing that I would keep him awake with that, risking that the powder would wear off, still...

“No, I didn’t,” he answered lowly, and I could imagine how his eyes became heavy, even though I was faced to the wall, with him behind me.

“If I had”, those three words felt like a punch in my stomach. “I would have tried everything to stop it. I would have begged Clay to do something.”

“Who’s Clay?” and flinched as the question tumbled out of my mouth, but it had already been too late and Peter tensed behind me, telling me through this reaction that he had spilled something that he shouldn’t have.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...” I managed to bring out quickly, but he placed his forehead against my shoulder, and I could feel his breath through my shirt, grazing down my spine warmly, as he broke in on me.

“It’s okay, I’m just...”

I knew he was about to say that he was tired and then he would realize that he shouldn’t be, so I quickly – without thinking, without actually intending something worse than just to distract him – I took his hand that rested on my stomach and brought it up to my chest.

“I would have done everything to stop it”, he scooted closer and now my heart was struck by a punch.

He meant it, truly, honestly. I could hear the pain and self-reproach in his voice, sense him trebling behind me, and I felt so bad, so exploiting, so much like Severin, that I was incapable to swallow down the lump in my throat. And I was unable to say anything else.

It didn’t take that long until his breathing turned deep and even after I had stopped talking. Apparently he didn’t have anything to add either. And I knew that I had always been right watching those TV shows and movies.

It had always been too easy. Most of them don’t show the deep guilt and self-loathing one definitely has for their ruthless behavior.

But then... I did it. I got out of my bed, even though my legs felt like lead, and stole his wristband. My heart was beating so loud that I thought I was able to hear its echo, and that Peter would wake up.

He didn’t, and I caught myself staring at his face as he was deep asleep and still all I saw was silent reproach and a broken heart.

I left everything as it was – the blanket flipped over so that I could slip right back in – and leaped past the chairs and table, towards the door, to hold his band against the scanner. And it worked.

Still can’t believe it.

I knew the way to Jay’s cage and I knew which room I needed to get to for supplies.

I was barefoot.

Peeking out my door, I knew and it was past 11pm now because the lights in the corridor were dim. Luckily my clothes had almost the same color as the walls, so I slid along them. I knew where the cameras were, from the countless walks, and which area they faced. I basically crawled and rolled to get to that supply room.

I don’t know if those cameras got me. Time will tell.

I reached the room, and I was so indescribably nervous, as I held Peter’s wristband against the scanner, not knowing if there was a camera as well. As it opened with a hissing sound I didn’t care to look for the lights, but left the door open instead. My eyes were already used to the dim, dark, but not enough to see every detail of the room.

It wasn’t necessary.

I had crawled by it several times to know where the closets were and I knew I wouldn’t have much time until someone would check this place. Apart from that I wasn’t sure if I should go through the corridor again. Yet, if I would go through the air system and they had seen me on my way in, they would know about the vent, so that meant: going back through the corridor.

Then I realized that I had to be prepared in case that they would catch me.

I would never go down without a fight. So, changing my mind, I closed the door and switched on the lights.

The first thing I went looking for was something like a bag, but there wasn’t anything. I was in the wrong room for that. Tools were here: nippers, screwdrivers, binders...

This basically was the janitor’s paradise and nonetheless: mine. But why were there no bags? There had to be something to put all these little helpers into. I couldn’t go with that large worker’s belt, there was no way hiding something big like this in my room.

And then I found it: duct tape. Better than nothing.

I used it to tape the nippers and the screwdriver around my body, along with one of two box cutters.

If they find out that I stole something: it should be this, it would be the most logical: a weapon to defend myself with. I would find a way to address White’s pity with that, to act desperate and melt his wicked heart.

I wouldn’t take any more, so they shouldn’t notice that I was here in case the cameras in fact didn’t catch me. I taped almost the whole tape around my body, because I needed so secure it, and a roll would be much harder to hide than straps of it beneath my basin. And then I went back, just the same way I got there.

I still can’t believe that I did that.

Again, it was too easy and I had learned that everything came along with a price.

I still can’t believe that I am sitting here having Breakfast and everything is fine and nothing has happened to call on my debt. I know there will be something. It’s like a pitch black shadow lurking in the corner of my eye, vanishing the moment I move towards it. I just know.

When I came back Peter was still asleep and the first thing I did was put his wristband back on gently, before I stuck one of the two cutters into my mattress and ran for my bathroom, where I un-taped myself from all the rest. This was when I breathed out with half of relief, because if he would wake up right then and there I could simply pretend to have gone to the bathroom.

Still, I was quick to unwrap all of the stolen presents: the screwdriver, the nippers and the second cutter, and tape them beneath the basin. With Peter in the other room, I didn’t dare to go for the vent. And then I got back to bed as carefully as possible.

I was freezing and first I had to warm up before I woke him, and calm down my heartbeat. It wouldn’t. Not even when I took his hand and wrapped it around me, or when I scooted closer to him to suck up the warmth that was radiating off of him. It was like my body refused to betray him any further and guilt claimed my bones like ice. So I did the only thing I could think of, covering my excitement, and waking him up: I faked a dream.

I know, I know... how pathetic. Let’s just say that I imagined being with my Beast, really being with him, and there were just a few things I didn’t really fake, but acted out on, because I wouldn’t warm up any other way.

However, as soon as Peter jumped up from his nap, I was pretty damn sure that he was instantly embarrassed about the situation, especially about the noises I made, and rushed out.

At least the way the door closed let me believe that.

I wish I could say that I slept brilliantly. I should have, but I couldn’t get a wink of sleep, until I dropped into a dead like state from exhaustion.