Untitled Novel – Part 8 – Hope Szymanski

Due to a request, I was inspired to write part 8 of this untitled novel for my blog post this week 🙂

Seriously – any suggestions for the name of this novel are greatly appreciated.

Please see the following links for the other seven parts before reading this. Trust me – it’ll make way more sense.

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 – Part 6 – Part 7

Here is Part 8:

She was lying on her back in the dark again, waiting for the doctor to come back in with the latest test results. She concentrated on relaxing and attempted to repeat the words she’d learned in her education lesson the day before.
            “The Collective saves, protects, and satisfies. It is in us, and it IS us. The Collective is the one and only way to – “ She stopped reciting, gasped, and gripped the edge of the table she was lying on until her hands ached and her knuckles turned white. Her head started spinning and she clenched her eyes shut. Suddenly, a sharp, jabbing, pain shot through her upper arm.
            She let out a cry. It hadn’t worked. She’d been in this office for 5 hours now, missing her usual daily routine, and nothing had helped. Repeating the Sayings were supposed to make all well, and she had been trying to continue repeating them, but there was always this pain in her arm and nightmarish visions in her head that prevented her from surrendering completely to The Collective.
            The doctor entered the room a few minutes later, took one look at her tear stained face, and frowned.
            “F-1044.” He said. She looked up at him.
            “It did not work.” She whispered.
            “So it appears.” The doctor walked over and felt her forehead. “Why do you grip your arm so tightly?”
            She hadn’t even been aware that she had been clutching her arm, and now she realized she’d left marks in the flesh due to her fingernails. Quickly, she let go and laid her arm back down at its side.
            “Sit up.” The doctor ordered gently. “I’ll retrieve you a cup of tea.” She nodded and got up as he left. Sighing, she closed her eyes and tried again to relax completely. There is good reason to be worried, she thought. If she didn’t fit in with the rest of The Collective, if she couldn’t surrender, she’d be rejected as a unit and cast out. It wasn’t healthy to have broken parts to The Collective – she’d learned that a few weeks ago in another education session. Just thinking about being outcast made her shudder, and then a sudden sound made her jump and open her eyes again.
            “Do not be alarmed. I’ve returned with your tea.” The doctor said, handing her a steaming cup. Embarrassed, she relaxed slightly and thanked him for the tea as she took it from him.
            As she took her first sip, she heard the doctor ask her a question. The steam enveloped her comfortingly as she thought of her answer.
            “What do you see in your dreams?” had been the question poised. She swallowed the tea, held it on her lap in both hands, and looked down.
            “I see me.” She whispered. Tears started well up in her eyes. “I see a blue light, I see others from our community trapping me – closing in on me.” Her eyes were squeezed shut now. “I hear myself screaming…feeling terrified. Then there is a painful hurt in my arm – like a wound that has just been inflicted. It starts pounding until I wake up and realize it’s real, and my arm does hurt.” She opened her eyes as a single tear slid down her cheek and the doctor took the hot tea out of her shaking hands before she burned herself. She looked at him in despair. “What does it mean?” She choked.
            The doctor looked at her understandingly before he turned to set the cup on the table on the other end of the room. Facing her again and resting his hands on the table behind him, he studied her for a few minutes.
            “I believe,” he said, “that some relaxation medication would help you, but you may need to have another surgical procedure completed.” The news sent chills down her spine, but she remained silent, staring quickly at her hands again, while she continued to listen to the doctor. “When The Collective rescued you, we performed the typical surgery, but you must understand that this is normally done at one’s birth and acceptance into The Collective. You were much older when we operated, and therefore, you may require a second procedure to completely allow your mind to accept The Collective.” Numbly, she nodded.
            “For now,” the doctor continued, “take one of these every morning.” She looked up and took the medicine he was handing her. There were about 20 white tablets inside the bottle. She nodded again and slipped off of the table as the doctor left her to change out of her hospital clothes and back into her community tunic. Tomorrow, she would start taking the pills.
            The rest of the day went well, or at least, as well as it could. She found her group just as they were finished knitting socks and joined them for the afternoon education session where they learned how The Collective is harmonious with their minds, and their minds are harmonious with It. The lesson made sense, and she found that agreeing with it made her feel much better after this mornings’ discomforts.
            Her day was looking to end uneventfully (which is how every successful day should end – she learned that in a lesson last month). She smiled. Maybe the pills would help, and maybe she wouldn’t need the extra procedure. Honestly, that’s what scared her the most. She did not want to go through another painful experience, and she was terrified that the second operation might prove unsuccessful.
            Walking back to her dorm with the other girls who stayed there, she took a deep breath. Tomorrow, all would be better. Every day brings more of the same, and thus, more comfort. She took another deep breath, opened her eyes, and saw that the girl in front of her had just disappeared around the corner. Silently chastising herself for not keeping up, she quickened her pace to make up for lost time.
            But before she reached the corner of the structure, there was a hand over her mouth which caught the scream before it even formed in her chest. Strong arms entrapped her, and her mind raced with fear once again – this was too familiar. Her nightmares were returning – and this time they were real.
            The arms dragged her into the darkness, underneath a fishing dock and into a cavern she hadn’t known existed until this moment. Struggling, she attempted to shake off her assailant, but to no avail. The arms were strong, however, she noticed that they were gentle as well. Oddly enough, that particular characteristic stuck with her as being the one difference between this encounter and the arms in her dreams. When they were well away from the light, her attacker let her go and she instantly shrank to the ground, backing away towards the wall of the cave.
            “Please!” She pleaded, tears rising as she attempted to flatten herself against the wall. “Don’t hurt me!” The figure that was her assailant bent down, and she could barely make out a face. It was a young man, about her age, but she could tell that he did not wear the clothing of The Collective. No white tunic. Her heart started pounding harder.
            “Katrina,” he said gently, taking a step closer to her. She tried to shrink back further, but she was already pressed hard against the rocks. He stopped moving when she didn’t respond. “It’s me Katrina.” The voice was anxious.
            “Who are you?” She asked cautiously. “You are not a unit of The Collective.”
            “No. And neither are you, Katrina.” She shuddered at his words. “It’s me – Jason.” Jason. Suddenly, like lightning across a night sky, she saw a vision from one of her dreams. She was screaming, and there was the blue light, and –
            “STOP IT!” She shrieked, covering her ears. She started sobbing as the pain in her arm returned, bringing a nasty headache along with it. Bringing her knees into her chest, she clamped her hands tighter around her ears and attempted, without success, to block out her invisible attacker – all the while hoping that her physical captor would spare her life.