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My bare feet hurt on the spiked grips, and I clung to the railing to keep the pain at bay. Baker’s shoes tap tapped as she moved, and the sound kept drawing me upwards out of the depths of Crimson Academy’s Pit.
I looked down at my beautiful gown that now hung in soiled strips of silk, with patches of shimmering diamonds missing and spatters of gruel staining it from top to bottom. The school dance felt like a million years ago now, and my body felt frail with the dress hanging on it. I no longer filled it out with the swell of curves.
“Come, come,” Baker said with irritation. I was slowing down as we reached the top, the reserves of energy stored in my body being expended with each movement. “They’re waiting for us, and we mustn’t take you in like this. You’re disgusting, so filthy, and foul smelling.”
At the top of the stairs was a small corridor, much like a hospital. But an old hospital with narrow hallways and putrid green linoleum flooring with yellowed painted walls. It smelled antiseptic, and in the distance, I could hear the muffled sounds of somebody crying out over and over again. “Help me, help me, help me.”
“Do you hear that?” I asked, paddling along to keep up with Matron Baker’s renewed vigor.
“I hear nothing,” she said sharply. “You’d better hear nothing yourself. Am I clear?”
“Yes,” I replied, but inside I was screaming at her for being part of all this insanity. All the lies we were telling ourselves at Crimson and probably in the world outside. I didn’t know how carefully curated a Lower life could be, but as an Upper, it felt as if I had to convince myself all day, every day, that everything was normal.
In fact, none of this was normal.
“Here we are,” she said after a short walk. “If you behave yourself today, you will be allowed to mainstream back into your classes. Show your obedience, and you will be richly rewarded for it.”
I nodded, “Yes, Matron.”
She used a key card and swiped me into the room. The door opened with a hiss as the air inside escaped, hitting me with the sterile scent of a medical facility. Not the antiseptic smell outside in the hall where cleaning products had been spread generously, but the sterile, sharp scent of a high-end decontamination suite.
She left me alone in there after indicating a change of clothes on a chair and the wash area to the back of the room. It was like any other nondescript doctor’s examining room I’d been in, and nothing stood out for me. I relaxed as the door closed, and I was left alone. When the door clicked shut, I tried it and found it locked. I flinched when the lights flickered overhead, but they stayed on. I wasn’t plunged into darkness again. I wasn’t going back.
If the Pit was hell, the first shower out of it was pure heaven. I stood under the scalding hot water and let it wash away everything, the days of lock-up, the crust of gruel, and the overwhelming pungent scent of my fear.
I washed my hair twice and scrubbed myself with the rough washcloth and acrid soap they left for me. I was red and tender all over by the time I was done as if I could erase the pain and horror of the Pit so easily.
The outfit left behind was a pair of black leggings with a simple light grey tunic. It wasn’t anything I would ever choose for myself, but I loved the way it felt against my body, so soft and secure.
I used the comb provided to detangle my thick hair and brushed my teeth so hard my gums bled. I was finally clean again and felt as if I could face anything.
Well, anything except going back into the Pit, so when Matron Baker returned, I was the meekest, most obedient version of Willow I could be. I made myself sick with all the bowing and scraping I did, kissing her ass and practically begging her to let me stay out of there.
When she came back, she took a long look at me, up and down, and nodded. She still wrinkled her nose in disgust but said, “Much better.”
I scampered behind her like an eager pup, grateful for the scrap of approval she’d tossed my way. She walked too fast, ignored my stumbles and near falls as I tried to keep up, and took several turns left and right until I was completely scrambled and had no idea where we were.
At last, after all of the trauma and tribulations I’d gone through since the dance, I saw somebody familiar.
“Nurse Flora!” I called out, and she turned, saw my face, and lit up with a brilliant smile. Her eyes flicked across to Matron Baker, though, and she dropped back into a dark scowl.
“Hello, Willow,” she said in a flat tone.
“I’m so happy to see you,” I said, not picking up on her body language right away. “I can’t believe I said that. I thought I was never going to make it back here. It felt like I was going to disappear forever!”
“Yes, yes,” she said and glanced at Baker. “I can take her from here.”
“I was told to take her myself,” Matron Baker said, stiffening up with self-importance. “Mr. Remington would be very cross if I shirked my duties.”
“I’ll let him know what happened, then,” Nurse Flora replied, “Doctor Norris is waiting for her and his time is very valuable. I would hate to think you’re deliberately wasting it.”
“Oh, of course not,” Baker blanched at the hint of an accusation. “I respect his time and believe it is invaluable. His work is so important.”
“Then you’ll understand why I need to take her,” Flora insisted and slipped my hand in hers. “Come along, Willow. We mustn’t be late.”
I looked back at Baker, who seemed to shrink as we moved away. She was deflated by Flora’s power and defeated in her control over me.
After we were out of earshot, I whispered, “Thank you.”
