Fourth Birth: The Oakmont Saga, Book 1

That first night after my time with James was probably the worst night of my life, to that point. The visions he put in my mind played over and over, with my mind altering them into much worse nightmares than the real thing was. I woke up every half hour or so, sweating and shaking, before going back to sleep and repeating it all over again. I layed on my bed the entire night, curled in the corner and shaking, when I wasn’t asleep, having nightmares.

At least with Gary, he was nice and kind. He never seemed to want to hurt me. Of course, I told Mrs. Babcock about him before he actually did anything other than touching me and rubbing me some, but never in my private areas. Those thoughts went through my mind all night long. Now, I wished I hadn’t said anything about him and had let him do what he wanted with me. It’d have been much better than this. Anything would be better than this.

An hour earlier than my normal time, I got up and headed to the shower. I was exhausted and felt incredibly dirty, but the filth wasn’t just on my body. It was in my heart and my soul. Another difference with Gary was that I never felt dirty like this.

Standing in the shower stall, I turned the water as hot as it would go and attempted to scrub the feeling of dirtiness from me, with all of my strength. The burning heat of the water and the pain from scrubbing so hard helped provide some feeling of reality to my clouded mind, but I knew it wouldn’t last. Unable to make any difference, I slid to the floor in the corner of the shower stall. Any other girl would be bawling, but not me. Something had died inside me, or was dying.

“Melanie, are you okay?” I heard, not sure how long I’d been on the floor like that.

“Yeah,” I replied, instinctively wiping the tears away that weren’t there and picking myself up. I turned off the water and grabbed my towel, drying off as I left the shower and headed for the bench where my clothes were.

As I started to put on my exercise clothes, my stomach seemed to do a backflip, and I ran to the nearest sink, heaving into it. I stood there for a little while, with Aliyah beside me. She looked worried. Every heave sent incredible shots of pain through my chest, emanating throughout my body.

“I’m okay,” I told her, when my stomach finally settled down. I was barely able to stand up by then, though.

Once I recovered a little of my strength, I cleaned the sink and my face, making sure there was no evidence that it had ever happened, and headed back to my clothes on the bench. Before I could start getting my clothes on, my stomach started to rebel again and I just managed to get it under control before I had another violent bout of throwing up. This time, I actually blacked out for a second and slammed to the floor, landing on my knees and banging my head really hard on the sink.

“I don’t think I’m going to exercise today,” I finally told Aliyah, after the fourth or fifth attempt, with her obvious worry growing. Instead, I walked back to our room with only underwear on, climbed into bed and curled up under the covers, shivering.

I didn’t sleep at all, but I felt a little secure under my covers, like I did when I was a little girl and I could block the monsters out by doing that. I was older and knew it didn’t work that way, but I did it anyway. Maybe it was to block out the world. Who knows? Unfortunately, the images continued to play through my mind, no matter what I did. The problem was, the monsters were under the covers with me.

“Melanie, would you please come out so I can talk to you?” I heard Mrs. Wilde ask.

“I don’t want to.”

“I know, but you need to.” She sounded like she was pleading with me.

I slowly lowered the covers and saw her sitting in my desk chair beside my bed. “Melanie, would you please tell me what happened?”

“I can’t get the images out of my mind,” I told her, not sure why I was telling her anything. I actually felt like crying, but I resisted it as hard as I could, and it was hard. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t let them see me be weak.

“Of what he did?”

“No, he forced images into my mind of what he was going to do,” I said, tears beginning to form in my eyes, in spite of my attempt to stop them. After a while, I forced back the tears. I was determined not to cry, but some of the moisture escaped anyway. No one would ever see my cry, ever again!

There were actually tears in her eyes, as she looked at me with tenderness. That alone almost made me cry, but I stomped on it before it began. I would not cry again. EVER!

“Melanie, I don’t know what to say or do, and unfortunately you were right. It doesn’t look like they’re going to be punished,” she told me, confirming what I already told her. “For what it’s worth, they’re still unconscious from the attack. If it was a psychic burst, it must have been a bad one.”

I pulled the covers back over my head, her words like ice cold water thrown over my entire body. “Like I said yesterday, you can come talk to me anytime. I’ll always be there if you need me.”

“Thank you, but I’ll be okay,” I replied, trying to convince myself as much as her. I didn’t want to be rude to her this time. She was honestly trying to help me, even if she was part of the problem.

“Do you think you’ll feel up to coming to math today?”

“I’ll try. I’m feeling better now,” I said, even though I knew I wasn’t.

“Don’t push it. If you don’t feel like it, don’t come,” she told me, putting a comforting hand on my head as I lowered the covers back down a little.

“I’ll be there,” I promised, starting to get out of bed. I looked at the clock and saw it was almost time for Physics. Just the thought of going there made my stomach heave, and I just managed to run to the trash can before the little bit in my stomach was poured into the can. I almost blacked out from the pain in my chest that the spasms caused, falling to my knees in the process.

She looked at me oddly, as I returned to bed, but didn’t say anything until I was back under my covers. “You stay here today. Rest and recover and don’t worry about any classes. I’ll inform all of your teachers.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Wilde.” She smiled and left.

I stayed there the rest of the day, keeping the covers over my head the entire time. Aliyah came and checked on me several times, talking with me a little each time, but I wasn’t really in the mood to talk so she usually left after a few minutes. Having all of this time to think, I was beginning to know I needed to push her away. I was bad for her. I was even more screwed up now than I had been, and that was saying a lot.

Once classes were over, Aliyah returned and sat down to do homework. It was one of the few times that I had my head out of my covers, and I watched her.

She obviously got frustrated as she was working, which made me curious. “What’s the problem?” I asked, beginning to feel a little normal for the first time that day.

“Mrs. Wilde’s homework doesn’t match what she taught today. It’s like she was distracted or something and gave the wrong homework,” she complained, almost slamming her pencil on her study desk.

“Can I see it?”

“Why? You already know this stuff,” she said, but brought me the book. I looked it over for a moment, instantly recalling what it was. She was working with equations with two variables.

“Did Mrs. Wilde teach about equations with one variable,” I asked, despite knowing I needed to avoid her.

“Yeah, but these problems have two variables. I don’t have any clue what to do.”

I thought about it for a moment, trying to make myself stop this, but I couldn’t. I was too weak.

“Would you like to?”

“Yeah, I guess. You sure you want to?”

Swinging my feet off the bed, I grabbed a nightgown from my dresser and pulled it over my head. Once dressed, at least partially so, I put my pillows behind me and replied, “Sure. I love this stuff.”

She grabbed her pillow and I started teaching her about equations with two variables, which she picked up really fast. She really was smart, when she wanted to be. I didn’t exactly understand why she was only in pre-algebra, as easily as she picked it up.

Doing the algebra with her actually gave me a little bit of an escape from the nightmares running through my mind. That was something I could do, and do well.

Once done with that, we went back to the single variable equations and I helped her better understand that as well. “You should be a teacher. I like Mrs. Wilde, but you do a better job. You up for dinner?”

“I’ll go with you, but I’m not hungry,” I replied, standing up and heading to my dresser.

Dressing was an incredibly difficult task. The pain was so bad I almost blacked out, but I didn’t want Aliyah to know, so I tried my best to hide it. I’m sure she knew, though.

Once dressed, we headed to the cafeteria, me struggling with the pain of every step, thanks to my badly bruised body. I watched Aliyah eat dinner, her meal choice being horrible, like any other kid.

“You up for some strikes?,” she asked after she was done eating, her hopeful expression irresistible.

“I’ll go with you. Not sure if I’m up for bowling, though.”

“It’s no fun by myself.”

“I’ll bowl a game and see how I do.” This was going to hurt, and I knew it. But I didn’t want to disappoint her, even though I really should have.

“Awesome!”

Once we got to the bowling alley, we got shoes and a lane just like always, then started our first game. The pain in my chest was really bad, but I forced myself to push through it. Why was I doing this, to her and myself?

Through all of it, there was no enjoyment or excitement inside me. I was going through the motions and nothing more. It was like I was doing it just to prove that I was still alive, but I wasn’t, at least not inside.

A group of kids sat down at the table behind our lane, watching us for a while. They chatted and laughed sometimes, even pointing toward us at times, but I couldn’t hear them very well so I just ignored them.

“Isn’t that James’ new girl,” I heard one of them say, shocking me so much I couldn’t move. It sounded like they were trying to be heard. Images and feelings of him putting his hands on me sprung into my mind again.

“Yeah. She’s really pretty, even if she’s just a kid,” another replied.

“I wonder how long he’ll keep her. Maybe I can have her when he’s done,” one of the boys replied.

“We could share,” another boy said, laughing as he did so.

“Deal,” the first boy replied.

The unintended and dirty compliment did nothing good for me, but the fact that they saw me as his girl absolutely stunned me. The way they referred to me was like I was his property, and they were trying to figure out who’d get me when he was done with me. Of course, all of their talking had brought new and more vivid images to my mind, now with other boys doing things to me.

My stomach suddenly lurched and I quickly ran to the restroom, barely making it in time to throw up into a toilet, pain searing my chest with every heave. “Are you alright?” Aliyah asked, a moment later.

“No,” I managed to croak out, fighting the urge to just run as far and as fast as I could.

Done heaving, I sat back, pulling my knees up to my chin and rocking back and forth, fighting the tears that wanted to escape, from the pain outside and in. It wouldn’t happen, though. I would not let it.

“I’m sorry I talked you into coming,” Aliyah said.

“It’s not your fault,” I assured her, settling down and looking up at her.

“Yes it is. If I hadn’t brought you here, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten sick again.”

She had no idea what had caused this. Deciding to save her from worrying about me or getting mad, it was easy for me to decide not to let her know. Why did both of us have to suffer through this?

I pulled myself off the floor, and removed my bowling shoes. “Will you get my shoes for me?” I asked, handing her the bowling shoes.

“Sure. Be right back.” I began rinsing my face in the sink.

As I was washing, an older girl came into the bathroom, heading for a stall. As she passed, she whispered, “Slut.”

It was just like it was back in first grade, but this time it was way worse. At least then, I didn’t believe I was a monster, but was I a slut? I didn’t know if he actually did it to me or not.

I headed out of the bathroom, fighting hard not to run. Aliyah handed me my shoes, which I didn’t even bother to put on. I walked back to our room as fast as my tiny little legs would carry me, where I crawled under my covers again, with Aliyah watching me as I did. Right then, I really didn’t care.

Even though it was just her, I felt like I was being watched. I got out of bed, and not even putting my shoes on, I walked out of the room leaving Aliyah staring at me. I wasn’t sure exactly where I was going, but I needed to get away so I just walked.

After awhile, I found myself in some old lab, with lab tables in the middle of the room and cabinets against the front wall. The room was long from side to side, but narrow from front to back. The left side had an odd metal door in it and the right had an odder metal cage built into it that looked a lot like a jail cell to me. The back of the room had a long shelf running the entire length, with notebooks and other junk stacked on top and a lot of boxes and random loose stuff underneath.

Walking to the right, randomly choosing which way to go, I saw a small gap in the stuff under the shelf. With nothing else to do, I squatted down and slid back into the hole. Once I was settled, I pulled my knees up to my body and start rocking back and forth, tears leaking from my eyes. I was alone, and there was no one around to see.

I had to get out of this place, before it killed me or I killed myself. The last part of that thought was beginning to sound like a good option, which was something that had never before been possible for me, and it scared me.

Sitting there, the pain in my chest seemed to be a little less, which was at least one good thing, but the pain in my mind never stopped anymore. The images just kept going, never stopping, although there were short breaks sometimes. Of course, it had only been one day, so maybe time would make it better, but I had to get through that time to find out, and right now, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

Having been in that little hole for a while and knowing I needed to get back before room check, I climbed out and walked back through the deserted halls of the old building, to our dorm section. When I got to my room, I walked in and stopped dead when I saw Mrs. Wilde sitting in my desk chair.

“How are you doing?” she asked, before I could even think.

“I’m okay.” My reply was automatic.

“I heard how you left the bowling alley. I also heard about what was said, and no, Aliyah didn’t tell me. I don’t think she even knew about it,” she said, yet again shocking me. Aliyah looked very curious, but wasn’t saying anything.

“You see, we know most of what happens here, but unfortunately not everything,” she said, frowning a little.

“Aliyah, while you were bowling, several older kids said some really mean things about Melanie so she could hear, and it hurt her more than she’ll admit,” she said, looking at Aliyah. “What you also may not realize is the nature of the attack she suffered yesterday. You see,” she started.

“Shut up! Shut up and go away! Leave me alone!” I screamed, fighting back the tears of frustration and embarrassment.

“No, I won’t go away and I won’t shut up. You need to talk about this and what I’m doing is the only way I can think of to make you talk,” she said, but with compassion in her voice, that even I could hear. Right then, I didn’t care, though. I hated her and I just wanted her to stop.

Rather than listen, I turned and grabbed the door handle, but she stopped me, grabbing me from behind, and holding me with both of her arms. “Leave me alone!” I screamed, fighting to get free, kicking, trying to scratch her or anything I could do to make her let me go.

“I will not let you go,” she said.

“Why do you care? I’m just an ugly little slut!” I yelled, still fighting to get free, tears now running from my eyes, in spite of everything I tried to do to stop them.

“You are not ugly and you are not a slut,” she said, holding me even tighter. Her voice never changed in tone or volume.

“I hate you!” I screamed.

“No you don’t,” she said softly, still not letting go. Anger flared up in me. How dare her presume to know how I felt.

I became completely still, stopping my fight for freedom instantly. “You have no idea how much I hate everyone here, especially you,” I said, a quietness to my voice, which actually scared me. “Aliyah is the only one I don’t hate, but I need her to hate me so I won’t hurt her.”

She almost let me go when I said that, but she didn’t. I had shocked her, and pretty badly, with what I said. Hoping for escape, I resumed fighting for a while with no success. Unable to fight anymore, my chest hurting way too bad and my eyes burning, I slowly sank to the floor. She went with me, her arms still wrapped around me, but it had changed from a hold to more of a hug.

“Why do you care what happens to me? I’m just one of your caged lab rats.”

“Melanie, for some reason I can’t explain, you have brought something out in me I didn’t think existed anymore.” She laid her chin on my shoulder.

“You have caused me to violate a rule I was taught when I was first trained to be a part of this program and I have been one of the best at sticking to that rule. Do you know what that rule is?”

“No, and I don’t care,” I said, barely able to hear myself.

“We’re taught not to form any emotional attachment to any of the kids that come into the program. We’re taught to view you exactly as you think we do, as lab rats,” she said, surprising me with her honesty. “You have caused me to break that training for the first time in my career, and I don’t know why.”

“Probably because you pity me because I’m dirty, weak and pathetic. I’m a failure,” I stated, again trying to fight to get away, but she tightened her arms again, restricting my movement. Unfortunately, my chest hurt too much to give much fight, and I soon gave up. As with everything else, I was a failure.

“Failure!” she exclaimed, as if she read my mind. “If you’re a failure, then there can be no successes in the human race,” she said, making me look back at her, as much as I was able.

“You’re lying like always!” The struggling and yelling had really taken a toll on my chest and the pain was becoming unbearable now. I was actually beginning to have trouble breathing.

“Let’s think about it for a moment. You’re kind. Do you dispute that?”

“I’m not that kind.”

“But you acknowledge that you’re at least a little kind.”

“A little.” With my breathing becoming somewhat difficult, I was hoping to hide it with her talking.

“That’s better than many people. You’re polite. Will you argue that point?”

“No, ma’am, but I was rude a little while ago.”

“Yes, but you were extremely distraught, and with good reason. You do know what that means, I assume.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Anyone with any compassion would forgive that without a moment’s consideration,” she told me, almost challenging me to argue with her on it. Obviously knowing I wouldn’t, she continued with her list. “You’re exceptionally intelligent,” she said, with her eyebrows cocked, as if she was waiting for me to try and argue with her.

“I’m not that smart. I’m just good at remembering things and very good at test taking.” My arguments didn’t even make as much sense to me as they used to. Why was I even engaging in this conversation? This was silly, other than allowing me to get my breathing under control.

“I’d bet that you’ve taken intelligence tests that say otherwise. However, I’ll admit that you do have an eidetic memory. Do you know what that is?”

“I don’t think so.”

“It’s a unique gift that some children have where they basically see something and almost take a mental photograph of it, allowing almost instant recall of that picture. It usually goes away as they become adults, and it doesn’t grant understanding of what they record,” she said, giving me a moment to think about what she’d said.

“Are you saying that kids with that don’t really understand what they see?”

“Exactly, but you do,” she said, driving her point home.

“But will it go away when I get older?” I asked, concerned that I’d become stupid as I got older, taking away the one thing about me that was good.

“Honestly, I don’t know, but I don’t think so.”

“But how do you know?”

“I don’t, but think about this. Everything you take a picture of, you internalize. You make it part of your knowledge, more than simply a picture. You think about it, you figure it out. In other words, you digest it. That is something incredibly rare.”

“I think you’re wrong,” I replied, but I was the one that wasn’t sure.

“But you admit I might be right,” she said, and I realized her arms were around me a lot like Momma’s would be when we had many of our Momma, daughter discussions. It felt nice, even if it wasn’t Momma, but it brought a wave of intense sadness, knowing I’d never see Momma again. It was everything I could do not to start crying, but I fought it. Instead, I felt my hatred start welling up again.

“Now the point that I’ll bet will be the hardest for you to admit to yourself, from my limited observations of you. You are a very beautiful young lady, outside as much as inside,” she said, leaning forward to see my face and look in my eyes. “Do you believe I’m lying to you?” she asked, looking very serious.

“I believe you believe it,” I replied, knowing it wasn’t true, no matter how much she believed it. I especially knew it wasn’t true about the inside.

“You face overwhelming evidence against your belief, yet you continue to hold that flawed belief. That’s not rational,” she said, shaking her head slightly.

“I’m nuts, I guess. Lock me up again,” I replied, making her sigh.

“You are not nuts. You have a self-esteem problem, and your recent ordeal hasn’t helped it any. You definitely need counselling, but not because of any mental illness,” she replied.

“Aliyah’s prettier and she’s not dirty,” I told her, trying to deflect the direction of the conversation, not that it was really a conversation. A conversation is two ways, but this was her telling me how she saw things, and her beliefs were flawed.

“She may be to some, and not to others. That’s all in the eye of the beholder. What I do know is that you are a very pretty girl, and so is she. You are both highly intelligent. She suppresses hers, and you deny yours, even though you exercise it more than any kid I’ve ever met. Before you came here, she had been alone. Now, she has her first friend in two years, thanks to you. That’s incredible, but I suspect that it might be even more incredible that you have a friend. I don’t know for sure, and I truly don’t understand why, but I suspect you haven’t had a friend in a long time, either,” she said, and I realized we were slightly rocking back and forth.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Why wouldn’t you know?”

“Because I like to study too much and kids don’t like kids that study a lot,” I told her, quickly coming up with something to avoid letting her know the truth. I’d never had a friend.

“I think some of your studying is a defense, at least it is now. You don’t need to study to pass any test that’s given to you,” she stated, as if it was simply an accepted fact.

“I didn’t understand Dr. Stuben’s paper. When I got here, I wouldn’t have passed a test on it.” That was a lame counter argument. She actually laughed at my comment, telling me just how stupid it was.

“First, no one could write a test on Dr. Stuben’s paper, including himself. That paper took him almost three years to write,” she said, when she stopped laughing.

“Really,” I said.

“Yeah, I helped him with some of it, and watched him almost have a nervous breakdown while he struggled with it,” she told me, making me envision the man I saw the picture of, struggling to understand that stuff.

“Second, you’re farther along figuring it out than I could, and I have a PhD in math. How much of it don’t you understand, at this point?”

“I’ve finished it.”

“And how much did you leave that you don’t understand?”

“None. He has some mistakes in it, which is why I was having so much trouble.”

“Dear God! You found mistakes in that paper?” The shock on her face was impressive.

“Yes, ma’am. At least I think they are.”

“Do you have your work written down?”

“Only a little. My project journal was taken from me when I got here and I don’t write anything down anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t,” I said, which didn’t really answer her question, but I wasn’t going to tell her anything else.

“Well, if you want to write a letter to him, showing him his mistakes, you’ll have to show all of your work and document everything well.”

“I don’t want to write him. I want to write Momma and Daddy,” I whispered.

“I know, Melanie. I wish I could arrange that, but I can’t,” she said, squeezing me a little bit. Unfortunately, her squeeze didn’t offer any comfort any longer. Now my mind was again thinking about the fact that I’d been kidnapped.

“As for dirty, you are not dirty, although your feet may be from walking the halls barefoot,” she said, trying to disarm me with some humor. Rather than making me lower my armor, my anger was only stoked by her attempt at humor and what she said just before that. Without thinking about what I was doing, I sent a replay of the attack to her mind. All of my feeling went into that replay, although I was sure she didn’t get the emotion I felt, but I did. The emotion was part of the memories so I couldn’t have stopped them, even if I’d wanted to, which I didn’t.

For some reason, I liked Mrs. Wilde, but she was one of them and for that, I hated her. My anger suddenly erupted in my mind with a vengeance, speed and fierceness that scared me, in the second I had to recognize it. The red haze instantly overtook my vision and my brain completely disengaged. There was a moment of pause, and then I felt that click and again a tearing sensation in my mind. Then the pain exploded throughout my head and every bit of my consciousness. Blackness settled over me like a tidal wave, but the pain didn’t go away. If anything, it got worse.

That pool of energy was there and like all of the other times, I couldn’t reach it no matter how hard I tried. This time, the pain actually seemed to be worse, and even though every time felt like eternity this definitely felt longer somehow.

I could hear voices around me. Some of them sounded desperate, but I couldn’t tell what they were saying. There was only darkness, but the voices started becoming words, and I began to hear people talking about doing different kinds of medical things, none of which made any sense to me.

Where was Aliyah? I was really scared and I wanted her with me. I felt alone, unable to tell anyone I was okay. Maybe if I could send an image to her mind, like James did with me but nicer, she’d know I was alright. I didn’t want her to worry about me. Opening my mind, I sent a probe looking for her. Thankfully, I found her pretty fast. She seemed close by, although distance was kind of hard to understand like this.

When my probe got to her, I remembered how it felt in my mind when James did it to me. I shouldn’t have done it to Mrs. Wilde. I was as bad as James, and I knew it. I deserved everything that was happening to me, even if it was wrong of them to do it.

I wondered if I could tell her I was there, like knocking on a door when you went to someone’s house. In my mind, I envisioned a door to her mind and knocked. There was no response and I got worried that what I was doing wouldn’t work, but I tried again.

Just as I was about to give up, there was the feeling of a tentative opening of that mental door. “Melanie, is that you?” I heard in my mind.

“Yeah, is that you Aliyah?” I asked, which was stupid since I’d reached out to her.

“Yeah. How’re you doing this?”

“I’m not sure. I wanted to let you know I was alright, so I thought I’d send an image to you, like James did to me but nicer. I didn’t want to just invade your mind.”

“Melanie, I don’t think anyone has ever done this before. Is that really you?” In our minds, I could feel doubt in her thoughts.

“Yeah, it’s me. Who else would it be?”

“Melanie, you’re dead in the hospital right now.” That was definitely not what I expected to hear.

“I can’t be dead. I’m talking to you,” I argued, knowing my logic had to be true.

“What was your score on our last game?” she asked, suspicion very strong in her mind.

“Like I’d know. You know I don’t pay attention to that...wait a minute. We didn’t finish the last game. I ran to the bathroom and threw up,” I said, remembering that horrible experience.

“Yep, you’re Melanie, or at least a very good imposter that knows a lot about you.” I could envision her eyebrows wrinkling as she got confused at her own statement.

“I’m not dead, Aliyah.”

“The doctor says your heart isn’t beating, and they’re about to do that shock thing.”

“What! Aliyah, I’m going to send some images to you. Try and see if they make sense and try and do this. I’ll try and give instructions with them, if I can make that happen.” Without warning, our connection was cut, and there was an explosion of pain in my head, and in my chest. I knew I was alive now, regardless of what happened before. I wouldn’t have felt this much pain if I wasn’t. When had the pain stopped, for it to have come back?

My eyes opened, pain totally encompassing my head and chest. I knew I had been talking to Aliyah, and that I wanted to show her something, but I couldn’t remember what it was or if I actually told her.

“Can I die again?” I asked, not meaning it seriously, but wanting the pain to go away.

“You don’t want to die, sweetie,” a woman leaning over me said.

“I hurt,” I said, having trouble breathing. “Hard to breath.”

I wasn’t sure I didn’t want to die, but they were going to try and keep me alive. I thought, maybe I should still live. I was still scared of the thought, although it was becoming more tempting as time went on.

“Doctor,” the woman called.

“Yes,” I heard a man respond.

“She complains of a lot of pain, and also that she’s having trouble breathing.” I still couldn’t see him, but it looked like she was looking past my head.

“Aliyah,” I croaked out. I felt a hand grab mine and I squeezed it.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t think so.”

“We need to get X-Rays of her chest,” the man’s voice said.

“I also want to get some scans of her brain,” Mrs. Wilde added.

“Add that to the list, but the X-Rays first,” the doctor ordered.

“Yes, doctor,” another male voice replied. Then I felt myself being lifted up, as my eyes closed.

“I wasn’t dead,” I said, not knowing why I said it.

“What?” the doctor asked.

“I wasn’t dead,” I repeated.

“You weren’t dead, but your heart stopped beating. Your body had died, but we brought you back,” he replied.

“I wasn’t dead,” I repeated again, as I was being carried out on a stretcher.

After a very short time, John had finished my pictures, even with the additional chest pictures. “Wow, you have several broken ribs. That’s gotta hurt a bit.”

“It hurts.”

“Well, the doctor will have you feeling good again.” I wasn’t so sure, although he might fix my broken and bruised body.

“They’ll take you to a room in a couple minutes. I’ve got to go work on the other pictures. If you need anything, I’ll be just on the other side of that wall,” he said, pointing.

“Okay.” My voice was very weak.

Instead of walking to the wall where he’d indicated he’d be, he walked the other way, and returned a moment later with a couple of large men. “Go ahead and take her to a room. She’s in no condition to sit here waiting,” he said, smiling down at me.

“They’ll go ahead and get you as comfortable as you can be, considering your chest. I hope you feel better soon,” he continued, picking my hand up and squeezing it.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Sir! She called me sir. I must be getting old,” he rambled as he walked off. I smiled a tiny bit at his feigned unhappiness with my politeness. An odd thing that, and it was real too.

“It’s good to see you smile. You have a very pretty smile,” he said, shocking me that he saw it. My smile widened at that, but he didn’t say anything else.

They took me to a room, and picked up a tube that I didn’t even know was attached to me, inserting a needle into a small branch on it. Apparently, the branch was part of the tube so they could do that. Within seconds, I was asleep.

“Well, what do we have?” the doctor asked John.

“Doc, we have three broken ribs, two cracked and I’d bet a lot of internal bruising. If she was a boxer, I’d say she got the snot beat out of her,” John replied.

“She’s a little girl, not a boxer,” the doctor said, getting a concerned frown.

“I know, but that’s how these type of injuries typically happen. In short, someone wailed on her and they weren’t gentle about it.”

“She was assaulted yesterday, and was very likely beaten during the assault. She would not tell us anything about it, not even that it happened,” Rebecca said, as she walked in and looked at the images.

“Well, that would explain the injuries. But not why her heart stopped,” the doctor said.

“Doc, there’s nothing in these images to explain that. Her injuries, although not minor, aren’t life threatening,” John told them.

“I suspect that it happened because of something in her head, which is why I wanted the brain scans,” Rebecca informed them.

“Something in her head?” the doctor asked.

“Yes. John and I found an anomaly in her brain that’s growing, and is definitely life threatening. The last images taken, which were Monday, were forwarded to the neurology department at the lab. I wanted them to see what’s going on and maybe come up with a remedy.”

“I’ld guess that there hasn’t been a reply,” the doctor said, not really asking.

“That’s correct,” she answered.

“Who’d you forward them to?”

“The department head, Doctor Trasker.”

“John, show me this anomaly, would you,” the doctor asked.

“You got it doc,” John replied, as he began flipping through the images. When he got to the image he wanted, the anomaly was clearly present, and bigger than it was the last time. It was spreading in different directions, almost like a burst dam.

“My God, it’s grown even more!” John exclaimed as he and Rebecca looked in shock at the image before them.

“Alright, can you show me an image of a standard child in this program,” the doctor asked. John instantly brought up another image, showing the same location, which didn’t have the white blob on it, and very little of the red that was littered throughout hers. “I want a side image of the same region. Let’s do both sides. Try and get a lower view as well.”

“You got it doc,” John replied and headed out.

The doctor pulled himself up to the terminal, and began manipulating the images, magnifying in and then bringing up other images and comparing them. “Doctor, Aliyah has the same anomaly, but it’s microscopic,” Rebecca told him. With a few extra mouse clicks, he brought Aliyah’s images up and began manipulating them, magnifying into the odd little white speck.

“The first time you noticed this, how big was it?”

“About the same size as Aliyah’s is in that image.”

“How long ago was that?”

“After her first run of attacks, which would have been September 19th.”

“So, in the span of a few weeks, this spot has grown this much?” he asked, looking directly at her, with shock on his face.

“That’s correct.”

“Did you indicate that to the neurology department?”

“Yes, sir.”

“This is not acceptable. They should have replied. This child is dying.” He looked back at the images and moved them around. He continued doing that until John returned a little while later.

“The new images are in her file,” John told them. The doctor immediately brought up the new images, which were from the sides and the bottom of the brain. Moving around, he started placing pointers in the images, and highlighting certain points.

“Doctor, what are you seeing?” Rebecca asked.

“I’m not a neurologist, but I did do some work in the field during my residency. The places where I’m putting the pointers are focal points for this energy buildup. In other words, that’s where I believe they’re sourced from. The highlights are inflamed areas, as a result of the energy buildup. If we can hold the inflammation at bay, we might be able to hold off her death for a while, but it won’t last forever, if I’m even right. I’m not an expert in this area of medicine.”

“What will it take to do this?” she asked.

“There are meds we can give her to accomplish this, but they’ll have side effects.”

“What kind of side effects?”

“While she’s taking them, I am fairly certain her telepathic ability will effectively be shut off. In addition, there’ve been studies showing negative impacts on memory and in rare cases, on cognitive ability.”

“My God!”

“It’s that, or she dies within a day or two, at best, by what I can tell,” he said, looking directly at her. Looking at these latest images, I think it no longer requires a psychic burst to kill her. The inflammation is too widespread. It’s spread to other regions of her brain. I’m surprised she’s able to think at all, and she has to be in constant pain at this point.”

“She won’t agree to take it,” Rebecca informed him.

“Just tell her it’s one of the pain meds for her chest. Don’t let her know what it really is.”

“You want me to knowingly lie to her, with all she’s been through?” she asked, incredulous at the thought, although she had knowingly lied to many children over the years.

“Yes, if that’s what it takes, or she’ll die,” he said, very matter-of-factly. “To be honest, I’m shocked that this episode didn’t stop the brain as well as the heart.”

“Alright, but I want to try and see if she’ll take it willingly first. If not, I’ll give it as a pain pill, with the rest.”

“You do what you feel is best, but know what the stakes are.”

“Thank you, doctor,” she said, getting up and going to her, leaving the doctor to continue looking at the images.

“Rudie, she’s in bad shape. She’s been attacked by some older students, and the ER doc wants to give her some medicine to stop the inflammation in her brain,” John said, before Rudie had said anything.

“Slow down, John. First, what do you mean, she was attacked?”

“James and his cronies tried to rape her, and they beat the crap out of her. She has three broken ribs and a couple of cracked ones, and there’s a lot of internal bruising.”

“You said, ‘they tried to rape her’? I assume they didn’t succeed.”

“I don’t think so, but I’m not sure.”

“Okay. Tell me about the energy burst,” Rudie instructed him.

“It’s huge now, and has spread into other regions of her brain. It’s just like the X4, but I’m not sure the X4 looked this bad. The doctor is surprised she’s still able to think, and believes she’s in constant pain,” John told him.

“Do you know what the drug is?”

“Sorry doc, I don’t?”

“I’ve got my suspicions. Did you hear the description of it.”

“Yeah. He said it would almost definitely turn off her telepathy, which I think she’d be alright with. But he said there’s a good chance it could affect her memory, and there’s a remote chance it could impact her cognitive ability.”

“If it’s what I think it is, it will almost definitely impact her cognitive ability, very possibly permanently. As for the memory, it’s a hit and miss thing. It might have no impact, and then again, it might destroy her short term memory. It could impact her long term, or any combination of the two. It’s an unreliable drug and won’t have any impact on the problem, or the associated inflammation. We already tried it, if it’s what I think it is.”

“Then why is he giving it to her?”

“Because he’s desperate, which I can’t blame him for, and he doesn’t know about our research,” Rudie said and there was a very long pause. “There’s nothing I can do,” he finally said, and John could hear the sadness and frustration in his voice.

“By the way, from what I’ve heard, she’s started going to the old lab,” he said.

“Really!?” Rudie replied, then, after a pause, said, “I’ll make a visit to the old lab. I think there’s something I need to do. It’s an absolute long shot, though,” he said, and remained silent for a while. “Please keep me informed, John, and if you pray, do so.”