Chapter 5
The next morning, I awoke to cheerful singing and the smell of coffee. This was good! I cracked open one eye, then the other. It wasn't easy, I was feeling very groggy. I tried to rub my eyes, tried to yawn, only to be reminded of the restraints and the gag in my mouth. I tried to sit up, but was held back by the canvas straps pinning me down to the mattress. Slowly, I was remembering everything that happened to me yesterday, and the horrible reality came back to me. They'd drugged me, and I must have slept like a baby!
The cheerful singing stopped in front of me, and the lovely coffee smell wafted into my nostrils. I opened my eyes again. In front of me was a big chubby woman of about 45, with rosy cheeks and hair pulled back into a severe bun on top of her head. She took a sip of coffee. “Good morning, rise and shine!” She chirped. I looked at her with disapproval. It wasn't a very good morning in my opinion.
This new nurse busied herself with plumping up my pillow and pulling back my sheets. She was singing as she did so. Meanwhile, I could just lay there, longing for a sip of the coffee.
She filled a wash bowl with water and put it next to the bed on a cart. She pulled down my sheets and lifted up my hospital gown. “Oh my, you could do with a wash dear” she exclaimed. Good thing we put the training pants on you isn't it? You lot…tsssk”
“What the hell!” I thought angrily. “What do they take me for!? I'm a grown woman, not a damn toddler. They pump me full of liquids, drug me and then berate me like a fucking two year old when I clearly had no control over my own body.”
The nurse fixed me with a stern gaze, “now behave, and I will let you eat your porridge with a normal spoon instead of the bag. Maybe you can even sit up for a while. Your implant looks great, you're healing nicely. You might even be out of recovery by noon.”
After I'd been washed and had my temperature taken, my wrist and cheat restraints were undone by the nurse and Matron. They made sure to leave the restraints holding my lower body in place, while they put me back into the straight jacket. Then they undid my legs and made me stand up. I stood between the two women and they put some pyjama pants on me, while a third nurse went to get a wheelchair. I felt like a small child. They towered above me, their big strong hands holding me. I was being washed, fed and dressed by them and wasn't allowed to do anything by myself. And now I wasn't even allowed to walk or sit in a normal chair. When the wheelchair arrived, they pushed me in. They pulled a strap tight around my chest, fixing my upper body in place. My ankles were cuffed again and locked to the leg rests of the wheelchair.
“Nurse Agatha, will you escort this inmate to the mess hall?” Said Matron. “Inmate…” Even my name was taken away from me. With a curt nod, the big chubby nurse grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and pushed me through the door, into a wide tiled hallway. I realised that I'd only seen one room so far; recovery. Now I was about to see where I would be spending my days for a long time to come. I didn't even know how long I would have to stay. In the Unit, you didn't get convicted, sentenced… the Unit seemed to have the right to pluck you from your life and lock you up for as long as they saw fit.
All the tiles in the hallway where white, and so was the floor. The whole place seemed devoid of any colour. There were lots of doors. Locked, probably. Off limits to curious inmates.
We went right, through a set of double doors and entered the mess hall. There was a long wooden table with narrow wooden benches on both sides. Five women sat at this table, all dressed in the same flimsy hospital gowns, eating from bowls with wooden spoons. On the chest of the gowns, a big number 1 was embroidered. The women were all staring at me when we entered the room, but none of them made a sound.
Opposite the wooden tables, there were two more tables, these were square and had separate chairs. The chairs looked comfortable and the woman sitting there were dressed in grey t-shirts and skirts. These were the Unit’s level 2 uniforms, the number was embroidered on their shirts, and they looked a lot nicer than the hospital gowns the level 1 women were wearing. There was bread on the table, as well as fruit, butter, and orange juice.
In the back, on a slightly raised platform was a long table that overlooked the entire mess hall. At the table, I saw three nurses in their white uniforms having breakfast and surveying the room. Sitting with the nurses at this table, there were also four other women, dressed in white button down dresses. On their chest pockets, I could make out the number 3. These must be the “well behaved” girls, I thought. “They get to sit at the nurses table and enjoy a nice breakfast. Damn, they must have done a god-awful amount of sucking-up to deserve that.”
There was coffee, croissants and scrambled eggs and the smell of bacon wafted through the room. They sat there like royalty, surveying their underlings with disdainful smiles. It made my blood boil. I didn't like this idea of hierarchy. Being a level 1 would surely mean getting a lot of grief from the level 2’s and 3’s. Not to mention level Zero…
Nurse Agatha parked me at the end of the level 1 table. I was stared at by five pairs of eyes, but this section of the room stayed deadly silent. At the other end, the level 3’s and the nurses were conversing and laughing together. The nurse took my gag out and gave me a stern look, “no chatting, no noise young lady. Level 1’s aren't allowed to speak unless spoken to, understood?” I glared at her. This was a stupid and petty rule and I hated the unfairness of it.
“UNDERSTOOD?” The nurse barked. I huffed, but I replied meekly “yes madam.” She pulled up a a stool and sat next to me. “Good. I won't tolerate any insolence girl.”
She produced a tea towel and draped it over my chest, tucking it under my chin. Then she picked up a bowl from the table and began to stir the mixture that was inside. I was guessing this was the porridge. It looked horrible; a beige, lumpy and wet slurry. It made weird slurping noises while being stirred. “Now, open wide, this is all you will get for breakfast,” she said, holding the wooden spoon to my lips.