Chereads / Providence's Spurn / Chapter 2 - The Meaning of Torture

Chapter 2 - The Meaning of Torture

I wake to my body coughing violently, expelling the poison that forced its way inside me.

I imagine I'm coughing out my insides but that would probably hurt more.

I'm still in the laboratory, the floor is wet but the room's no longer filled with water.

I hear a door shut and my head darts towards the sound.

I hear a complex mechanical locking sound.

I stare at my hand, it's still wet.

Did I just… experience death?

It hurt so badly, even now my head throbs and the air I inhale is pervaded with water.

It's hard to breathe.

I can't go through that again… I put my head under my knees in a sitting position and try to gather myself.

Remember... endure, always endure.

I've been through worse, I'll be through worse.

This is life, suffering.

I won't bow to pain, I won't be defeated by aggravated nerves.

I hear a trickling sound and my eyes look towards it from under my knees.

"Question 16."

No.

Once again the puddles of water expand.

"How many decibels of sound is that trickling of water making on average."

I don't know!

If only I knew, If only I was smarter I wouldn't have to suffer!

"37 decibels."

"Question 17."

There has to be a way.

A puzzle, a clue, something!

Maybe one of the questions will be easy to solve.

Maybe they'll stop filling the room with water as soon as it reaches the top.

"What is the composition of the average molecule in the water surrounding you."

"H20"

"Question 18."

The water reaches my knees.

I get it now, they're really trying to drive me insane.

There's nothing I can do, no solution to this problem.

They're going to keep doing this until I go mad,

feigning madness is useless.

They'll scan my brainwaves, they'll predict me.

Every move I make is futile.

"Define pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis based on my personal definition word for word."

My elbows are wet.

I stare at the white light on the ceiling.

Artificial light, that is my sun.

My eyes shift to the ceiling, the walls, the floor.

That is my world.

I stare at the camera in the top corner of the room.

That is my god, and god… hates me.

My feet leave the ground and I lie on my back staring at the sun.

It doesn't matter if I lose my 20/20 vision, I'm going to die here anyway without achieving anything but being a statistic in an experiment.

I've stopped listening to most of the questions, it's a waste of the breath I'll soon be short of.

"Question 21"

"what is my favorite color."

"Periwinkle" I'm about to suffocate again.

I should feel scared, aroused, on edge.

But instead my body feels numb and my eyes are barely open.

I just stare at the ceiling blankly doing nothing to prevent what's imminent.

The ceiling's a foot away.

"Question 23, what is my age."

A possible question to answer, but still highly unlikely.

I've never been lucky-38.

A memory!

I remember counting that many candles on a birthday cake once.

It was a number I'd counted over and over again out of boredom.

what age was I?

When was it?

I had to have been four, I don't remember anything before that age.

I'm 16 now so… I have about a 50 percent chance.

He's 49-51.

"50."

He doesn't say anything.

I sigh and expel the oxygen from my lungs, preparing to suffocate.

"Correct."

My heart skips a beat and a smile spreads across my face.

I did it!

I've achieved the impossible For once in my life, I made something change!

I, did somethi- "Question 24, What is the weight rounded to the nearest tenth of the apple I'm holding."

What.

The water keeps rising and even with my back to the water and my face to the ceiling my nose almost touches metal.

"Hey! You have to keep you word! Turn off the water!"

I wait for a response anxiously.

"OK." My ears are underwater and I'm barely keeping my head above it.

I hear the faucets turn off and breathe a sigh of relief.

For once in this horrible life I feel like I achieved something.

Something that wasn't predicted or simply a manipulated response from me.

I made change through my own efforts, even I can control parts of my own life.

I hear the sound of moving water once again.

Drains?

I feel my nose touch the ceiling.

I see now.

I understand.

They want to drive me insane, so that is what they will do.

This minuscule amount of hope, this thought that I could control my own fate was all planned.

It's a classic, give me hope and take it away.

They want to drown me, watch me flail around in the water and curse the inevitability of it all.

My fists ball, I can't believe I fell for it.

Instead of expelling my breath, I shout as loudly as I can as an act of defiance.

"I hate you! I hate you all! Let me out! Let me live, let me breathe! I just want t-"

The sound of my voice is muffled by a bubbling sound.

My arms bang into the ceiling.

I can't go through that pain again!

There has to be a way out of this!

I swim desperately feeling along the walls and searching for something that can help me.

I'm stopped immediately when I feel that maddening pulse-like attempt at forced breathing from my body.

My body tingles and shakes while my thoughts are overrun by the need to breathe.

My lungs keep expanding and contracting but it's as if my nostrils are closed.

I feel my lungs wrenching at my soul, pulling my will from my body.

Breaking me.

I won't breathe in the water again.

I won't breathe, I won't breathe!

For a split second my resolve falters and some water enters my lungs.

I lose control of my lungs and Inhale in the water.

For a long moment all I can think of is the stifling pain of water entering my lungs instead of air.

Then I feel nothing.

My body goes rigid and my eyes stare blankly at the ceiling.

I start to lose consciousness.

I wish… All this could just end.

I wake to see a person in a hazmat suit.

My entire body is wet, my tears make streaks through the sink water and my eyes feel crusty.

I take a deep breath and begin to choke before I can complete it.

I can't breathe.

I gasp and violently hack out water.

It's as if I stop breathing now I'll suffocate, and each breath I take causes me to choke on the water in my own body.

I crumple to the ground and clench my teeth.

My heart skips a beat, "Drip. Drip. Pshhh."

Again.

No, not again, I can't handle this.

I won't go through it a third time!

"Not again! You hear me!? End me already, conclude this wretched experiment. I can't take anymore."

My tears begin flowing once again and my fists slam into the ground.

I lie on my knees and grimace.

The grimace disappears as my sudden outburst causes me to go into another violent coughing fit.

It hurts so badly, I can see blood come up every time I cough.

It's not just the water that I keep inhaling and choking on repeatedly, my lungs feel like they're torn to shreds.

I'm barely breathing.

Even so, they turned the faucets on again.

They're really going to kill me this time.

There's no way to fight this, no way to avoid this fate and that makes it all the more unbearable.

I hear the wretched beeping sound meant to get my attention.

"Relax, we were just giving you water, we wouldn't drown you again, that would actually kill you.

We can't have our experiment ending prematurely."

Filthy liars, they said they were terminating the experiment but it turns out they said that just to convince me I could die here.

Part of me is glad that I won't die, but I know this side of me is irrational.

I never wanted to die, for as long as I remember I've desperately wanted to live, I've craved freedom and experiences.

But I was never destined to have that, the longer I live the more I suffer!

If that's all living will ever be for me… I'd rather be dead.

I stare at the food and water then shrink away.

So this is fear.

I haven't felt it for countless years now.

I always expected terrible things to happen to me, I was always prepared to die.

Your body forces homeostasis on you no matter how bad the situation is.

The body can't healthily sustain an aroused state for too long, if it had I would have sustained permanent damage.

Because of that I stopped fearing pain and death.

This fear I'm feeling right now is something else.

It creeps into every nook and cranny of my skin and pervades my blood. The feeling consumes me until I'm just a husk of who I used to be.

It's not just fear.

I can't go near it.

That… water.

I feel like If I drink it I'll accidently inhale it all and feel that pain all over again.

My breaths still feel scorched.

Each breath I take is crippling to my mentality.

It's like I'm stubbing my toe over and over again relentlessly.

If I stop stubbing my toe it'll just be more painful when I inevitably stub it again.

it's an unavoidable fate.

I shiver and grab my arms.

If I eat that food, if I drink that water I'll survive long enough to be tortured again.

Will they drown me again?

Will they stab me and line my back with more scars?

Will I be electrocuted, mentally broken, tied down, eaten alive!? I can't do this anymore and they know it.

I sit down and enter the fetal position.

My feet on the ground, my knees arched up, my head tucked beneath them and my arms wrapped around my kneecaps.

My tears begin to dry.

What… What should I do?

A stupid question.

There's nothing to be done.

My life is in the hands of sadists.

The only thing to be done is nothing.

Wait here, starve and perish.

I've gone on hunger strikes before back when I thought my captors had a heart.

They continued their experiments without their voices having a hint of remorse.

All that got me was the reminder of an old pain called starvation.

I didn't want to die back then, and not eating when there's food right in front of you is nearly impossible.

It's like trying to pass out by holding your breath.

It's against your biology.

But it's different for me now.

Now the food is a blood-curdling entity that would eat me instead of me, it.

No- that's irrational, food can't eat me.

My heart rate quickens. I'm losing it.

All these years of isolation, the constant torture and the lack of hope.

I should've been insane long ago.

But I'm done now.

My fate is set.

I now only need to wait for myself to perish.