At Dawn, in the Forest

Jack was a jackass. His name was fitting in every way, both to the insult as to his unoriginal and cliché of a personality. Jack was one of the most common names in the US in the last decade and even worldwide as well, yes every language did have its own take on it, like Jakke from the Normans, and Jacques in French, still it was common and not original. Jack was the same. He had like many other men a big fragile ego, which gave a small dick and small heart kind of vibes to Dawn. He was the kind of man that needed the reassurance that everything he did was great, excellent, original (oh the irony, Dawn thought), and manly. The moment he felt his masculinity was being questioned he turned red with rage. Jack’s fragile ego Dawn blamed also on his height. She had read somewhere that men who were smaller in height tended to be more violent and more angry. And both fit in the description of Jack, he was barely taller than Dawn and she was only five foot three. And she blamed her height on them.

Jack was always the one to get her. To get Dawn to them. It wasn’t every day, some days they left her alone, but most of Dawn’s days started with unoriginal, hot-headed Jack. She often thought that starting the day with a person as Jack should be a crime, that, that alone was already cruel to wish on anybody, let alone letting it happen. The penalty, or, the punishment for this crime should be that the person like Jack should also start the day with a person like Jack. In that way you would start a cruel loop going over and over again. This thought gave Dawn comfort when she experienced discomfort, homesickness, or pain. Or all of the above.

Another thought that gave Dawn comfort was the scenario where their roles would be reversed. That Jack would be laying there on that single mattress, in a room with no windows where he couldn’t watch the trees, and would start the day with the being he hated the most, Dawn. She didn’t wish to harm Jack. Dawn liked emotional and mental torture more, even physical pain had an emotional and mental aspect to it. She knew any kind of torture but physical would work better on a person like Jack. And it was this thought that kept her occupied when Jack entered her sad excuse of a room further.

Dawn didn’t want to look at Jack’s face, she wasn’t ready to see that arrogant smirk on his face. She focused on his shoes instead. They were black dress shoes, he always wore black dress shoes. He had three different pairs, on top of it he wore either black or dark blue jeans. She had recognized four different types of jeans. She thought it was sad he had only four pairs of pants, but then again, maybe Jack wore other clothes when he wasn’t here. But she didn’t want to think of that. Dawn liked it better if he was trapped here and hadn’t access to the world beyond where she was being held.

“I asked you a question,” Jack said gently in a sickly sweet tone, “Are you ready for a new day, Mutt?!” He grabbed Dawn’s long hair, his sweet tone gone.

Another thing about Jack was, he didn’t like to be ignored. He despised it. He knew that she knew, hence why he was even more pissed off and that he felt the need to, to grab Dawn’s hair, as some kind of powerplay.

Dawn provocatively looked Jack directly in the eyes and said only one word, “Yes.” Jack’s nostrils flared, his brows furrowed, and his face turned even more red, if that was even possible. “Yes, what?” He growled through gritted teeth.

Dawn knew she shouldn’t play anymore, that would cost too much. Therefore she gave in, “Yes, Sir.” The moment the last word rolled over her lips, Jack hoisted her up by the arm and forcefully moved Dawn’s arms behind her back and cuffed them. She wasn’t faced with this. This treatment she had gotten since the day she arrived in this hell hole. Jack dragged her through the bright white hallways. Dawn knew their route like the back of her hand, like the tape of Life on Earth. She had walked this way more than she had watched Life on Earth by now. It was a depressing statistic. But she hadn’t lost hope, not yet.

They went right two times, then a long hallway they needed to cross, and then a left. In the last hallway they arrived in it was the third door on the left, which led to a horrible room, the room. A room that once upon a time had induced fear in her. Not anymore though. Showing any kind of emotion was dangerous in this place, whether it be happiness or fear, they would use it against you. They didn’t like it either if you didn’t show anything, but they didn’t know what tactic to use against you. No emotion was both unpredictable as predictable so they chose to do nothing as well. Just their work and nothing more because as long as you are docile everything should be fine.

The first thing Dawn always saw upon entering the room was the dentist chair. It wasn’t a typical dentist chair, in fact Dawn knew for sure dentists wouldn’t these kinds of chairs. That would be just cruel to the patients. It was more a table doctors used during surgery but that could move and bend like a dentist chair. Dawn just didn’t know the correct term, so because of the lack of knowledge she called it the dentist chair.

Just like the dentist chair there were many other tools in the room she didn’t know the name of, but she didn’t want to either. The next thing, or rather someone, Dawn lay her eyes on was Dr. Willow. “Thank you Jack, for brining subject 400185 to us.” Dr. Willow put down the tablet he was holding and went up to the chair where Jack had strapped me in. “My pleasure, Dr. Willow.”

Suck up, Dawn thought. Jack was always ready to please Dr. Willow and his wife, Dr. Klein. He wanted to lead cases like them. Jack wanted to have his own subject to play with, but he had to earn it. When Dr. Klein entered the room as well Dr. Willow announced to the room, “All right, let’s begin, shall we?”