Page 23 of Her Last Audition


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I lean forward again.

“Tell me everything you know.”

14

Kinsey

A Pyschopath

Hands touchingme brings me to consciousness. Large, strong hands. Too strong for me.

I let out a scream, flailing madly as I’m lifted from the tiny cot. My hair covers my eyes, and I can’t stop thrashing and screaming long enough to see who is holding me, but it doesn’t matter. There is no one whose touch I would welcome in this place.

My hands reach out for anything they can grasp. A nail snaps in the doorway and the pitch of my shrieks escalate.

“Shut this fucking bitch up!”

My shoulders are held still and I try to twist, but the iron grip on my arm is too much. A small pinch.

My body suddenly feels heavy, much too heavy to keep moving. I seem to melt into the arms holding me, though inside, I’m still screaming.

Where are you taking me? I scream, but no one can hear me.

My vision blurs and I can’t move, but I can still see and hear. I can stillfeel.

I’m brought into a room that’s much too bright and smells like a hospital. I can’t seem to blink properly and my eyes water, tears dripping down my face.

“Up there,” a male voice says, but I can’t turn my head to look.

My body is limp as I’m put on some kind of table or chair. It isn’t until someone grabs my ankles and pulls them into stirrups that I recognize the position. My feet are strapped in and I can’t pull my knees together so they fall open, useless and exposing me to all under the fluorescent lights.

Please, don’t.

No one can hear me.

Gloved hands grasp my thighs, and the tears continue to pour, fearing the unknown.

Coldness enters me, but I can’t shiver. The hands that touch me now are clinical, impersonal. In my peripheral vision, I can see the man with glasses moving around me, looking me over.

My mind becomes foggy, and I wonder what it is they injected me with and how long it will last. I feel another prick, and everything goes blissfully dark.

* * *

I wakeup back in my room, curled up on the tiny cot, shivering with only my arms to wrap around myself. My sore arm reminds me of getting vaccine injections, and I wonder again what they put in me.

Memories of the doctor’s table come back to me, and I feel my face heat up.

Lines of makeup still cake my face and my shoulders ache from being scrunched up all night. The clang of the metal around my wrists seems too loud, and I try to control my movements.

Darting glances to what I am sure now is a camera in the corner, I do what I can to cover myself while I pee on the seatless toilet, hovering on shaky legs.

I barely hold in a groan as I shift around, trying to relieve the kinks in my body. My mouth is parched, but the only water is in the toilet, and I’m not that desperate. A loud rumbling noise from my stomach reminds me how long it's been since I’ve eaten, and I wonder if they’ll just leave me here to starve.

I don’t wonder long before a familiar sound echoes down the hallway outside the room.

“Get up, line up!” the voice calls out.

I can’t help as my body begins to shake when the door swings open. Not wanting anyone to come in after me, I only hesitate a moment before scurrying out. My body hunches over on itself in an attempt to cover my nakedness. I catch the girl’s eye from the day before across the hall. I see no judgement, only empathy. She gives me an almost imperceptible nod before turning her attention back to the large man at the head of the hall.

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