Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Something flashes in the deep recesses of my mind, but I find it distracting. I want to continue listening to Bastian’s story of how he convinced the Prime Minister of Canada to allow VEIL to be their primary news provider. VEIL CAN, as it’s now known as, became Canada’s most trusted news source. Pride at my brother’s achievements makes my skin feel as if it’s glowing.
Wait.
I’m reminded of one of the times Caius drugged me. Everything felt too happy. Too delicious. My stomach roils at the thought of him spiking my wine. I don’t think he had time to, and I’d watched the bartender open the bottle.
No, he didn’t drug me.
In fact, he hasn’t done so since we left Lake Erie. Since then, my brain has felt more clear than ever before.
Until tonight.
Something’s wrong.
Bastian, upon seeing the frown on my face, narrows his eyes and says, “Isn’t President Huxley great? He sure knows how to throw a party.”
I smile and nod because…why?
That guy gives me the creeps.
He’s not great.
Rubbing at my temple, I try to clear the confusion in my head. It’s not working. I find myself trying to remember why President Huxley was a creep. Is it me making up stories again?
No.
Think.
Though I can hear the soft hum of voices, the music playing in the background, and the occasional laugh that stands out from the overall buzz of noise, it all comes together to create a relaxing, lulling sensation that soothes me.
I close my eyes in hopes to dig my thoughts out of my muddled mind.
“What a pretty doll.”
I stare at her shiny, golden hair and nod in agreement. Bastian thinks dolls are silly because he’s a boy and doesn’t play with toys anymore. But, even still, my brother gave me this doll for my birthday. It was my favorite of all my gifts.
“I hear you’ve been having bad dreams.”
That’s what Daddy calls them. Bad dreams. Dreams don’t hurt you, though.
“What would you say if I told you I could make them all disappear?”
This has my attention. I jerk my head up, curious about what that could mean.
The smile I’m given is wide and friendly, but it makes my skin all itchy. I scratch at my arm until I’m made to stop.
I don’t like when people touch me.
Only hugs from Bastian are what I like. He keeps me safe.
“Your mind is telling you lies,” I’m told with a hint of sadness. “Your mind isn’t behaving, sweet one.”
I don’t like that. Sweet one. It makes me even more itchy, but I hold back from scratching so I don’t get fussed at again.
“A nice lady I know is going to be the person you talk to. After we work hard to fix your misbehaving mind. Understand?”
Not really. I nod quickly anyway.
“Good girl. You’re going to get through this. I’ll make sure of it.” I’m then patted on the head like I’m a puppy. I want to squirm away from the large hand that nearly covers my entire head. “You remind me of someone I loved dearly.” The sadness returns. “She’s gone now.”
Did she run away?
Did she die?
Maybe she didn’t like to be pat on the head and told her brain is a liar.
The burst of anger makes my skin hot. I’ve learned to hold in these bursts because if I get upset and have a fit, Dad will spank me. I don’t like getting spankings because it makes Bastian’s face crumple in a really awful way that makes me want to cry. It hurts worse than the spanking itself.
“She used to make that same face.” A warm chuckle follows those words. “It’s okay, sweet one. You’re not in trouble. Remember, I’m here to fix you. That’s what I do and I’m really good at it.”
A woman in a white dress and white hat approaches from behind us. When she comes into view, I have the urge to run. Running will get me in trouble, though.
“Keep her distracted,” the woman says. “It’ll only take a sec.”
What will take a sec?
“Did your doll come with this pretty dress?” I’m asked, pulling my attention from the woman to the doll. “This doesn’t look like any I’ve seen in the department stores.”
I note the pink lace over the doll’s silky pink dress. It’s so pretty. Bastian uses his allowance to buy special handmade dresses for all my dolls. They’re so special and—
“Ouch!” I cry out, jerking away from the woman.
She pulls away, a big shot in her hand just like the ones the doctors give me at my checkup. I look down at my arm and a tiny dot of blood forms.
“There we go,” the woman says. “You did well. Let’s get you a pretty pink bandage to cover your boo-boo.”
Fat tears well in my eyes as she quickly places a Band-Aid with Barbie’s face on the blood dot. I feel as if they played a trick on me. My doll’s pretty dress was used to distract me from the shot.