The Medea Complex Read Free Page A

if, you are
eventually allowed out into the hospital freely, a bell will ring at the times
of breakfast, lunch and dinner.” Backing away from me, she adds, “A
stick...Lord have mercy!" She pulls open the door, for which I am
semi-grateful, and semi-despondent, but I try to peek around her.
    It's no use.
    She's too fat.
    And yet....
    Any human contact is better than none.
    "I want to observe the body." I entice her to
stay.
    "Oh, Anne..." her fat chins ripple as she closes
the door. I am reminded of the red jelly Mrs Cook used to make for me when I
was a child.
    I shudder.
    I don’t think I will ever eat it again.
    No matter.
    I leap onto the floor and search the porridge with my
fingers.
    No keys.
    Dejected, I sit with my back to the wall and watch the sun
rise in the sky through the window. I realize with a sudden clarity that I've
seen that woman before, in the dream I had a few nights ago. What if it wasn't
a dream, maybe that’s how I got here? I ponder this for a while, but quickly
tire of thinking. I'm bored of everything. The days in here are long and
utterly pointless, and nothing holds my attention.
    Eventually dawn turns to noon as the yellow fireball peaks
at the uppermost part through the bars, and at once my stomach grumbles. It has
learned that lunch will be delivered soon after the sun hits that particular
spot in the glass. Yet the fact that my hunger pangs will soon be satisfied is
not enough to lift me from my abject misery. I have too many matters to mull
over.
    What do they want with me?
    Do they intend to harm me?
    Who are 'they'?
    And where is Beatrix? I miss her. Nobody else here speaks
French and if I don’t practice, I may forget how to speak it. I can only hope
that my confidante, my best friend, is outside these four walls, discussing my
freedom with my kidnappers. It is lucky my captors are not French too, as
Father would be absolutely hopeless in any sort of negotiation, and Beatrix
would be of utmost importance.
    There is a tickling sensation in my hands. Looking down, I
find I am holding a pile of yellow paint chips. I must have spent my morning
picking them off the walls as I watched the sun rise. I brush them away,
scattering them onto the floor.
    The fat woman in the apron returns right on time but she is
not alone, she is accompanied by a younger, slimmer version of her foul self.
They are wearing identical aprons, so no doubt this newcomer is a lying,
thieving fiend too. This new one reminds me of a rat, she's all teeth and bones
and her eyes protrude from her face.
    My, they do employ the most graceless women.
    "I don't suppose you speak French, do you?" I say,
staring at the newcomer, hopefully. She shakes her head and remains silent,
looking at the floor and twiddling her key-chain.
    "Does she even speak English?"
    "Be quiet," the fat one replies. "Today we
are going to take you for a walk. God knows, I shan't be taking you alone.
You'd like that, I imagine?" She nudges Rat-Face in the side, who startles
before running over to me and grabbing me by an arm. I ignore the urge to smack
her.
    “I thought you said I couldn't leave the room,” I say.
    The fat-one snorts.
    “Yes well, the doctor has decided he wants’ you out for a
while. Might drive you crazy if you stay in here for too long.” She slides a
look at Rat-Face, sniggering, and this time it truly takes all of my
self-restraint not to hurt her.
    “Oh, well, how wonderful! Yes! I would love to go for a
walk!” I smile innocently. Bastard, only letting me out for a 'walk' like a
dog. If a fair opportunity should arise, I'll give them both the slip, that
would surprise the 'good doctor', wouldn't it?
    "Let's get it over with then,” the fat-one says,
grabbing hold of my other arm, and the two of them pull me out of my cell into
the longest corridor imaginable.
    Light!
    One side is made almost in its entirety of large windows, as
far I can see. Sunlight pours through them, shining stars and whorls up the
walls. Wooden