TITLE: The Facility
GENRE: YA Science Fiction
Celia Walker wasn’t listening to the woman in front of her. Not really. She parsed out words, not full sentences. Instead, her concern lay with her inability to stop shaking. She wasn’t shaking because of cold air seeping through her torn clothes or that she woke up to strangers while on a metal cot. No, what really chilled Celia was being covered in blood.
“The medication we administered may keep you groggy so don’t rush to sit up. How are you feeling?” The woman, Marion she mentioned her name was, said. Her tone was what struck Celia. Soothing. Like she was used to helping people.
Celia met Marion’s eyes. She opened her mouth to answer but a rawness in her throat stopped her. Clearing her throat it felt shredded and sore as though she’d been screaming non-stop. Her breath caught and Celia remembered that, the screaming but little else.
“Cecelia?” Marion asked. The room and now the woman came into full focus. The smell of rubbing alcohol filled Celia’s nose. Marion stretched a pale and freckled arm out to Celia. In the stark light Celia could make out how clean Marion was in comparison. Leaning away from Marion’s reach she sat on her hands to stop them from trembling and felt the grit on her skin and clothes. Squirming she also felt the stickiness between her fingers.
No bandages, no cuts, no pain. This isn't my blood. And while her shudders ebbed a tad a new concern grew.