The Day The World Went Orange

  The Day the World Went Orange: A Darwin's Children Short Story

  by

  Natasha Larry

  All rights reserved. No part of this short story may be used or reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  COPYRIGHT ? 2012 by Natasha Larry

  Cover Art by Kris Wagner

  Edited by Rainy Kaye and Natasha Larry

 

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  "I just felt like there was no one." Meghan Snow's voice trembled, her eyes locked on the two vertical scars on her forearms. "I felt suffocated. Like-like there was a sack over my head, keeping out all hope." She tucked her bleached blonde hair behind her ear and chewed on her slender lower lip. "Then, I reached for the knife. When I woke up in the ER-"

  A low chuckle interrupted the trust circle. Meghan's eyes widened, while the twelve other patients at Maplewood Mental Hospital turned their heads toward the laughter.

  "Why do you allow this nutcase in group?" the patient beside Meghan groused.

  The laughter infused with hiccupping and echoed off the walls. Dr. Filmore leaned into the circle and fixed Brianna Miller with a glare.

  "Brianna. Do you feel it's appropriate to laugh at a suicide attempt?"

  Brianna crossed one leg over the other and sucked in a breath. "Sounds like you have rich people problems," she noted, ignoring Dr. Filmore's question and speaking directly to Meghan.

  Meghan gasped. "Excuse me?"

  Brianna tilted her head. "It. Sounds. Like. You. Have. Rich. People. Problems."

  Well, at least she doesn't hear voices.

  "Shut it!" Brianna warned, poking a finger at her own temple.

  "I tried to kill myself!" Meghan cried, turning to Dr. Filmore for help. Tears fell down her pale cheeks.

  Good job, you made her cry. Real nice. Well, forget purgatory. Pack for we're-going-straight-to-hell weather!

  Yeah, jerk! Now, we'll never make friends.

  "Hey!" Brianna protested. "We? I have lots of friends!"

  Wait! Who taught us about purgatory?

  "Crazy bitch." Meghan pointed an angry finger at Brianna. "She doesn't even belong here!"

  "Brianna?" Dr. Filmore stood and waved his hands toward the nurse's station.

  Crap! He's gonna shock us!

  Be cool! Be cool!

  "Okay! I'm cool," Brianna shouted at the doctor. She turned to Meghan and smiled. "What I meant to say was, sorry you failed to kill yourself?"

  No!

  Epic fail?

  "Wait! No, sorry you?"

  "Alright, Brianna. This isn't productive."

  "No! She doesn't have rich people problems!" Brianna shouted, jumping to her feet.

  Dr. Filmore sighed. "Nurse!"

  Liar. She tried to off herself because her boyfriend left.

  And she's rich.

  Rich people problems?

  "Shut it!" Brianna snarled. "They think she's lame, not me!" Brianna forced an elbow backward, into an unsuspecting nurse.

  Bad move dude.

  Epic fail?

  The nurse Brianna had assaulted hobbled back to the nurses' station clutching her abdomen. After a moment, she returned to Brianna's side, needle in hand.

  Brianna wailed. "Why do you people always over react to crazy things happening at a mental institution!" A team of nurses and orderlies restricted her and injected a sedative into her veins.

  ***

  Brianna drifted awake. Her eyes fluttered under the weight of whatever anti-psychotic they had injected her with this time. She remained still for several moments before trying to move.

  "What the rubber duck?" Brianna's voice sounded strangled in the small, dim space that had been her own personal time out room for the past year.

  Score! Getting frisky with yourself? again?

  Dude, that's just you.

  "Oh!" Brianna rocked herself into a seated position and flung her long, thick hair over her shoulder.

  You're wearing a straight-jacket?

  "Oh, shut up in there, Sherlock," Brianna hissed, struggling against the buckles to no avail.

  Genius.

  Yeah, have we ever been able to get out of one of these?

  "Good," Brianna huffed. "Point." She blew her hair out of her face and leaned back into the padded wall.

  Well, what are we going to do? This isn't going to get the job done.

  "Keep your mouth shut at group next time?"

  Sure, blame us.

  Yeah, it's our fault you can't keep your thoughts to yourself.

  "Shh!"

  What?

  Brianna angled her ear toward the sound of feet shuffling out in the hall.

  "Do you hear that?" she whispered. Her eyes locked on the door as the knob turned.

  Alright, the coats are coming.

  Be cool, and they won't give you anything else.

  Wait? We don't want any more drugs?

  "Why the hell not?" Brianna wondered in a whisper as the door began to open.

  Shut up!

  A formal, feminine voice rang out, "Brianna Miller?"

  Brianna squinted up at the white coat and tried to appear normal.

  "Yes?"

  The white coat stepped forward, shining a pen light into Brianna's eyes. Brianna blinked several times.

  "How are you feeling today, Brianna?" formal white coat asked.

  "Sane," Brianna answered without thinking.

  Oh! Bravo!

  A chorus of applause echoed inside her own skull.

  Great answer!

  "What's that?" white coat asked.

  Brianna glanced down at white coat's name tag. "Feeling much better, thanks so much, Kelly."

  Kelly nodded. Her voice was softer when she asked, "Do you remember why we put you in isolation, Brianna?"

  'Cause we speak the truth!'

  "No!" Brianna shook her head. "I mean, because I was disrespectful? I remember elbowing someone..."

  Kelly stared at her for several moments before nodding. "Do you think you can go back to your room this morning?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Alright, Brianna. Please stand." Kelly walked to the far left wall, hit a button, and returned just as Brianna maneuvered herself to a standing position.

  Two additional white coats came in both broad shouldered and daunting. Brianna forced down the voices bouncing around in her skull as each new white coat took either arm. They led her down a gleaming hallway, through a set of heavy double doors, and onto Brianna's usual ward. The orderlies continued to lead Brianna by the shoulders until they came to room 12-A.

  "Hey! You're back!" her roommate, Shelby Newton, shouted, as Brianna stepped over the threshold. "How were the shocks?" Shelby grabbed Brianna's shoulders, pretended to jolt, then fell to pieces with laughter.

  Brianna smiled at her until the room was bathed in an orange, vivid light.

  Oh! There's that psychedelic light again!

  That can only mean one thing.

  "Killing time?" Brianna mused out loud.

  "What?" Shelby asked, backing away from her.

  Brianna set her dark eyes on her roommate. The last thing she saw before that familiar itch took over her was Shelby's amu
sed smile. Brianna stumbled back, landing on her hard mattress as the itch burrowed into her dark skin.

  Oh! You're drifting!

  Brianna grunted, tangling her hands into her hair as the itch raged and swelled. She sucked a breath and held it in as something consumed her. Something else entirely.

  She went still, smiling to herself, head buried in her chest.

  Shelby's voice rang out, "Brianna?"

  She looked up at the unfamiliar blonde. Her head tilted in confusion, trying to blink out the orange haze.

  "Brianna?" she asked in a proper, New England accent.

  The girl smiled in an almost knowing way. She opened her mouth right when their bedroom door cracked open.

  "Brianna, your appointment with Doctor Filmore is in ten minutes," a woman decked-out in white told her. "I'll be back to get you, then."

  A voice screamed inside her head, Play along!

  She smiled at the woman in white. When the woman closed the door, she frowned to herself.

  Why is everyone calling me Brianna? she wondered.

  Play along! a different, much more firm voice hissed. They will know soon enough that you are Agnis.

  Quick! Get the M-99!

  Remember, you only have a ten minute window!

  Agnis-as-Brianna did not question the voices. She leapt to her feet, dashed across the room, and opened the bottom drawer of the dresser underneath the TV mounted on the wall.

  "What's going on?" The strange girl asked as Agnis-as-Brianna pulled at a copy of an old, worn dictionary.

  Agnis-as-Brianna brushed by the girl and rushed into the tiny bathroom in the corner of the room.

  "Oh! I get it, you going nutso again?" the girl shouted through the wooden door.

  Agnis-as-Brianna ignored her and flipped the book open to the back. A small glass vial along with a pair of protective gloves were tucked into a hallowed out space carved out of the pages. Brianna snatched the vial and nestled it securely into the elastic of her panties. Patting it gently, she looked up at the ceiling before jumping onto the toilet lid.

  She pushed aside one of the square tiles to retrieve a small key. Once it was safely inside the fabric of her head band, she replaced the square and jumped back to the floor. She rushed to turn on the sink and was pretending to wash her hands just as the bathroom door opened.

  She turned her head to take in the woman in white again.

  "Brianna? Are you ready, my dear?"

  She turned off the water and reached for the stiff, brown paper towels to dry her hands. For some reason, it felt like rich terry cloth against her skin.

  "Yes, ma'am," she answered, allowing the fabric to fall into the metallic bin at the side of the sink. "I'm ready."

  ***

  Agnis-as-Brianna sat back in the too comfortable leather chair in front of Dr. Filmore's desk, wondering why he was droning on and on. More importantly, why he was droning on and on like she was his patient. And why he kept calling her by the name of Brianna-as if he cared about whoever this poor girl was.

  Agnis glared into the wall mirror behind Dr. Filmore. Something else looked back at her.

  "Brianna?"

  The sound of his voice made her teeth clench. She forced her eyes to meet his.

  "Brianna, who are you right now?" he asked.

  Agnis shook her head in confusion. "I am? me. What are you playing at, Doctor Filmore?"

  He raised one bushy eyebrow in confusion. "Are you sure that you're yourself? Do you even know the difference anymore?"

  Agnis had to laugh. He couldn't be serious.

  "Yes, Filmore," she growled. "I'm always sure of who I am."

  He set a metronome in front of her.

  "Alright, Brianna." Dr. Filmore sat back in his chair. "I want you to quiet your mind."

  Agnis folded her arms over her chest. "I have to ask again, Filmore? What are you playing at?"

  "Quiet your mind," he instructed. "Focus only on the metronome."

  Agnis sighed and stared at the clicking device. Normally, she would never comply with this, but she was curious about what kind of game he was playing. She focused on the obnoxious beat and thought about Dr. Filmore seizing on the floor.

  "Brianna?" His heavy voice interrupted her daydream. "Who are you today?"

  Agnis snapped her eyes up at him. A dangerous thirst burned her throat. Her hand went to her waist line almost involuntarily. "I know who you are, Doctor Filmore."

  He nodded, as if something she said was fascinating to him. "Who do you think I am?"

  "You?" Agnis flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Are the man that tried to kill me."

  Dr. Filmore leaned forward, his brown eyes alight with interest.

  "Okay," he said slowly. "Who are you?"

  Agnis snorted, thrusting her body over his desk to glare at him.

  "I am Agnis Whitmore. Tell me, do you think playing like one of your patients will save you?" She laughed in his face.

  Agnis watched Dr. Filmore's skin pale. She slipped protective gloves over her hands, using the desk as cover, then pulled the glass vial out of its hiding place.

  "H? How do you know that name?" he demanded with a gasp.

  "Enough of this," Agnis hissed.

  "Brianna!"

  Agnis jumped back.

  "How do? who told you that name?" Dr. Filmore demanded again.

  Agnis stared at the man who had tried to kill her. The man who was still doing God knows what to defenseless girls. She bared her teeth as savage emotion overtook her.

  "This is the last chance you'll get to answer what you're playing at here?"

  "Brianna?" Dr. Filmore's nostrils flared.

  Agnis could feel the heat of his breath against her face.

  "Agnis Whitmore has been dead for ten years. Now, you will tell me, where did you hear that name?"

  He was clearly off his rocker. Agnis watched his hands digging into the top of his desk, exposing all the bulbous veins. Her eyes widened. They stared each other down. She knew the look in his eyes all too well. He thought she was still weaker than him? that all the girls, this Brianna included, were all weaker than him.

  Agnis popped the lid on the vial of her etorphine. "Doctor Filmore, I see that you've gone off the deep end. Perhaps it's all the guilt over what you did to those girls, but I assure you, I am very much alive."

  Dr. Filmore wiped the sweat from his brow and dug his knuckles back into his desk. He reached for his phone. "Okay, Brianna. Enough of this."

  Agnis clasped her fingers around his wrist. The phone fell out of his hand, bouncing on the desk.

  She snatched the phone cord from the wall. "I couldn't agree more."

  Without allowing herself the chance to think, she emptied the vial on top of the hand that was still on the desk.

  "What the hell?" Dr. Filmore barked, cupping his right hand over his left.

  She smiled and calmly sat back into the chair.

  "What is this?" He lifted his hands to his nose. Upon inhale, the effect was instant, as the zoologist had assured her it would be.

  Dr. Filmore fell forward onto his desk then crashed to the floor. Agnis shut her eyes, listening to the sound of him gasping for air for several moments, before finally standing. She walked around the side of his desk to find him convulsing on the shag carpeting.

  The color was fading from his face. The force of his dying, thrashing body shook the degrees mounted on the walls as a pool of white foam bubbled from his cracked lips. Agnis' heart hammered.

  It shouldn't be this hard to watch him die.

  She leaned against the desk for support, before looking down at the very same man that tried to kill her when she turned him in for what he did to all those girls. Dozens of girls that no one believed. She cleared her throat and shook free her thoughts.

  "You have maybe? a minute of your life left. Tell me, was it all worth it?"

  Dr. Filmore's eyes rolled
back into his head. His muscles contorted so unnaturally that Agnis had to look away.

  "You son of a-" She wiped a warm, stray tear from her cheek, frustrated.

  A loud gasp brought her eyes back to his body. Dr. Filmore gave a few more shakes before going still. Something about the sight of him laying there gave Agnis an itch.

  "Mm," she murmured as the creeping feeling crawled up her spine and dug into her skin. She leaned back against the desk just as an explosion of psychedelic light washed her away.

  ***

  Brianna gasped, taking in the corpse on the floor next to her.

  "Doctor Filmore?" she asked in astonishment.

  Brianna lifted herself to her hands and knees, and crawled over to the body. With shaking fingers, she felt for a pulse in the folds of his neck.

  Oh, yeah. He's dead, a voice inside her head confirmed.

  "No way!" Brianna backed away from him, looking around the room in panic.

  Yeah, you're right. That lack of pulse probably means something else.

  "Shut up!" Brianna yelped.

  Oh, you're just mad because people always wind up dead around us.

  Yeah, maybe we're in on it somehow!

  "Shh! Should I call for help?"

  She heard the dragging of feet outside the door.

  Ah, hell. The gig is up!

  "What do I do?"

  Um? key!

  Yeah, kick the crap out of anyone that gets in your way!

  Then get the hell out of Dodge!

  "Oh, right. Mad bank."

  Yup, we're all about bank.

  Brianna smiled at the sentiment and stood up just as the door opened. A woman dressed all in white crossed the threshold then halted.

  "Hi, Kelly." Brianna glanced at the dead body, then back at the nurse. "Looks like Doctor Filmore is um? having a bad day."

  To Brianna's astonishment, Kelly simply nodded.

  "Get out of here. Now, Miss Miller."

  "Huh?"

  A voice snarled at her. Shut the hell up! She's in on it!

  Dude, when we drift? we get so amateur. Of course she's in on it.

  How do you forget how good we are?

  Right. Remember that plan to get the hell out of Dodge?

  "Oh! Right." Brianna removed the key from her head band.

  Kelly stood in fear as Brianna ducked out of the door and down the hallways as calmly as possible. She took a nearby elevator to the basement, then broke into a run. Her momentum sent her crashing into a security door. She scrambled for the key and opened it, setting off a chorus of alarms.