Chapter 14: My body is not my body
Day four felt like a tipping point. Something had changed, and Andrew didn't know if it was something inside of him, or if it was something that they had done to him. But something was wrong. Where the injections had felt like molten metal before, they now felt dulled. He'd told Tracey that, half delirious and vomit on his mouth, and her eyes had glowed. She was so excited about it.
She'd even called Heather in so that the two of them could chat. Now that Andrew was chained up, there wasn't as tight of security on him since there wasn't anything he could do. He was fucking bound, on his knees, with his arms either behind his back or raised by a mechanism he couldn't see. If he threw up, there was a drain in the center of the room and they could easily wash it up. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream, get violent, escape, anything, but the drugs took all of his strength away. He had nothing left inside of him. Whether that was food, or power to get away.
He had his will, that had not broken. But what could you do when your own fucking body wouldn't respond to you? What outcome could you hope to achieve?
The testing became even more vigorous as time went on. Andrew barely could hold himself up, and they began relying on the second position, the one where he was on his knees and his arms were above his head, because in the other position he would collapse onto his side.
Heather was getting decidedly done with Andrew's behaviour, while Tracey seemed to be a little more lenient with him.
Maybe it was because she slept with him? He had no idea.
All he knew is that he was beginning to feel ill when she was in the room. He only told her at the end of the fourth day when it became unbearable to have her around him.
Both Heather and Tracey lost their minds.
They began racing around the small cement room, practically screaming. Andrew didn't know why this was a big deal, and when it was revealed to him, he wanted to throw up.