2 Eyes Closed 1 Eye Open, ch5

A Boy Colours

It’s been a few weeks since Vale watched his mother and father pull away in their car, leaving him in the chilly lobby of the Institute. He still isn’t really sure what it is that he’s doing here, it’s like some bizarre version of a boarding school, hosted in a hospital. The teachers are nurses and orderlies, classes a mixture of years and grades. It’s mostly just reading with a little bit of lecturing thrown in, all of it is boring but he still goes to every class and sits there quietly, working away on whatever assignment he’s given. He’s a better student in here than he ever was at his old school partially because he can still hear Gabe’s voice whispering in the back of his mind.

“They don’t enjoy the punishment, they love it.”

Valeri swallows little more than air, his mouth is dry just thinking about it. He still doesn’t know what kinds of punishments they administer here and he plans to keep it that way. Somehow he doubts that detention and suspension are the standard fare here. He’s seen a few of the older kids, the ones who were here before Vale’s group arrived, go pale as a sheet when the nurses’ tones start to even hint at displeasure. If the boy is truthful, he’s had a few nightmares about what he thinks the possibilities might be.

It’s not just the punishments that make it clear this isn’t a regular school. At seemingly irregular times the kids are pulled from their normal schedule to visit with one of the many doctors that run the floor below. They get taken to those white rooms with their bright lights, for at least an hour at a time. Valeri sometimes checks to see how long it’s been, to try and figure out if there’s any reasoning to the mystery but if there is he’s not discovered it yet. He only knows that he’s never taken for long, closer to an hour than two.

When he’s back under the ever watchful eyes he feels more uneasy than he did that first day. What if they decide they made a mistake and that it was time for him to go home but his parents wouldn’t come and get him? They’d called a few times and visited once to give him a few things from his room but they never stayed for very long and their goodbyes were always quick, as if they want to get away from him as soon as they can without appearing impolite. He doesn’t understand what these meetings are for, the doctors ask him to do impossible things all while hiding behind the glass so that Vale can only hear their disappointment, not see it.

They get him to sit in the middle of the room, on the floor, on a pillow, on a chair, sometimes the surface is soft, sometimes it is hard. Then they ask him to close his eyes only to open them again. Of course they don’t want him to really open his eyes, they want him to ‘open his internal eyes’ whatever that means. They ask him to open his other eyes and then stand with his other feet and then walk around in his other body as if it’s a normal thing to do. They tell him there’s a man just outside the room with a sign and they want him to walk into the hallway to see what the sign says. They want him to report it back to them, all without actually standing up and walking into the hall. Most of the time it just makes Valeri’s head hurt, classes nearly impossible to focus in after.

Sometimes they give him extra assignments, things to work on in his classes outside of what the nurses assigned. It’s the closest thing this crazy place has to homework.

He sits in the small classroom, alone at his table, the surface littered with markers, pencils, crayons, and other odds and ends that looked like they were from the bottom of an arts and crafts bin. He’s stopped listening to whatever math lecture was being given, it’s meant for some of the older kids anyway and the idea of adding letters to numbers just makes his head spin. He concentrates on the task at hand, not noticing when the door opens behind him. It’s not important enough to attract his attention.

“What are you doing?”

The voice startles Valeri, his marker leaving a long sweeping line where it’s supposed to end. That annoys the boy, a pout on his face before he even bothers to find out who interrupted him. He’s really proud of his drawing or rather was before it was ruined like that. The annoyance is on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill out an insult towards whoever thought to interrupt him like that. The words die before they ever have the chance to meet air. Gabe’s settled himself next to Vale, chair backwards so he can rest his arms on the back of it. Vaguely the boy is aware of the nurse protesting the addition to the class but Gabriel just waves her off, promising to be out of her hair in just a few minutes. She’s satisfied by that and returns to her teaching though both boys wait to make sure she doesn’t change her mind.

“So? What are you doing?” Gabe repeats his question, scooting closer in his chair to take a peek at the picture Vale had been working so hard on.

“Doctor Duco asked me to draw my dreams for him.” Valeri shifts in his seat, arms covering more of the page as his friend tries to get a closer look. He’s a little embarrassed now. The doctor had asked him to draw after the last failed round of testing. They seem to think the key to getting the results they want are somewhere in the depths of Valeri’s strange dreams. He remembers that first night here, how they had him stay the night then tell them about what he saw in his sleep before he was even allowed to eat breakfast. Had it been that dream that made them keep him here? Was that the reason his life had fallen apart? He wasn’t sure, he still had to do the assignment anyway.

“To draw your dreams?” Now he tries to peer over Vale’s shoulder to see the piece of paper the boy’s arms are covering. “Why your dreams?”

“Because they’re weird I guess?” Slowly he unfurls his arms, placing one hand on the corner of the paper to keep it in place as he gets back to work. He’s colouring in a dark space, crayon layering over itself in an attempt to cover the holes the first layer left. “I don’t get anything Doctor Duco wants. He’s weird.”

“He is weird. Can I see that?” Gabe barely waits for the okay before he takes the paper from his yunger friend, examining it closely. It’s not a masterpiece, Vale wasn’t any more skilled than the next kid in art, though he did like to draw. This had been the best assignment he’d been given yet, getting to draw instead of sitting there with his eyes closed feeling stupid. He wondered if maybe the doctors didn’t know what to do and so they were wasting time until they figured it out or until Vale’s parents came back.

Hadn’t it been a dream that got him into this mess in the first place?

“This is from a dream? What else is the good doctor getting you to do?” Gabe hands the picture back, clearly interested in the motive behind the project. Valeri couldn’t care less about why he was supposed to be drawing his dreams, he just cared that it was something he actually could do.

“He makes me sit with my eyes closed and then tells me to get up without actually getting up. It’s stupid.” Vale rolls his eyes and puts the crayon down he was working with. The nurse clears her throat behind them but doesn’t interrupt their conversation. The rules here were so strict with some things like eating times and following the rest of the schedule but once within the places assigned they didn’t seem to care what you did. Except within those white rooms, in those rooms there was no goofing off, no playing around. In there you listened to everything the doctor said, even if it was stupid.

“What does that even mean?” Gabe shakes his head and clucks his tongue. “Sounds like the old guy has finally lost it. So tell me about the dreams.”

“I dunno. They’re just dreams. Like, last night I just dreamt I was wandering around bedroom hallway. Nurse Jake was reading a book. It was pretty boring but the book had some dirty words in it.” Vale shrugs, not sure why everyone seems to be so hung up on the things his brain chooses to show him at night. He shifts in his seat again, an uncomfortable pit starting to gnaw away at his stomach when he thinks about his dreams. He remembers telling his dad about one particular dream and then two days later he was here, getting tested in that too bright room. “They keep talking like it’s something I can do all the time, the walking but it’s just sleeping. It’s just dreaming.”

“So that’s what this drawing is? Nurse Jake reading?” Gabe mostly asks to confirm. Vale’s drawing isn’t detailed enough that the older boy could tell which nurse it was exactly but it was clearly someone with a book. The boys nods to confirm, frowning at the next picture that Gabe pulls out of the small pile. “What about this one?”

“That one is a dream I had before here.” He’s reluctant to start telling the story but when there’s nothing but silence after his reply he keeps going. “I saw someone looking in the living room window. It was really late. I told my dad about it and he said it was just a dream. Later I dreamed…”

Vale lets his sentence die off, fidgeting with a marker. He loses the cap as it rolls away onto the floor but when he goes to retrieve it, Gabe rests a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. One deep breath later and Vale feels a little better. The memory still upsets him but he’s not about to cry as he had been just a few minutes ago. He sets the marker down before he colours his fingers blue, one line on the side of his palm already. His friend waits patiently, without peppering him with questions the way the doctors always did, that too makes him feel better.

“Later I dreamed my dad telling my mom that he saw someone walking down our driveway really fast then getting into their car and driving off. He said it seemed like there was someone watching the house, maybe to see if we were all sleeping? But it was a dream.”

“So, who is this guy? The one looking in your window?” The figure in question was standing off to the side in the drawing, barely even there. Vale had coloured them in green, eyes all down their exposed arm though he’d only drawn a mouth on the face itself. The artist taps his fingers on the table and looks as though he’s scheming to get out of answering the question. Before he can open his mouth with some excuse Gabe push his chair closer, faces barely more than a handful of inches apart. Once more he rests a hand on Vale’s shoulder and the anxiety that liked to bubble up within his chest is gone, slipping away enough to loosen the boy’s tongue.

“No. He’s not the window guy. That’s the window guy.” Vale points to another figure, one whose  posture could have been interpreted as peering into something or another. He points back at the one who caught Gabe’s eye, pulling another drawing out of the pile to point again. In each picture Vale’s drawn the strange eye man is there, always in the background, just peeking around corners or from behind something. “This guy is the ‘Seeing Man’. That’s what I’ve always called him. He’s always been there.”

“Seeing Man huh?” Gabe stares at the drawings for a long moment, mouth set in a straight line, mind whirling behind his normally laughing eyes. “He’s kind of creepy. Most of these halls, are they here? Do you walk around in your sleep?”

“I dunno, that’s what it feels like but I don’t actually walk?” Vale’s forgotten about his class now and it seems to have forgotten about him. A nurse eyes the pair from the hallway, he’d come looking for Gabe, but he doesn’t interrupt their conversation. It’s important how the older boy seems to be drawing more from Vale than any of the questionnaires have in the past. Doctor Duco might have been waiting for Gabriel but he would be more angry to have this stopped than to have his schedule rearranged.

“You astral project. That’s why they want you.” The term is completely new to Valeri, he’s certain he’s never heard it before, not even in passing and he has no idea what it means.

“Okay.” There’s disappointment in Vale’s voice but at least the stick sick feeling doesn’t last very long, it’s just unease now.

“It means you’re like, spirit or soul or whatever you want to call it can leave your body, move around. It’s kinda like you become a ghost only you’re still alive. They probably want to train you to be a spy. So they’ve been telling you to get up without getting up? That’s a stupid way to put it. Here.” Gabe grabs one of the blank pieces of paper and one of the markers Vale’s ignored up until this point. Focused on the paper he only takes the time to roll up one of the sleeves of his green sweater before he starts to draw. It’s a fast process, lines loose and sketchy, shapes as basic as they can be while still getting the idea across.

It’s a drawing of a face, Vale’s not sure if it’s supposed to be himself of Gabe or if it’s just a face, there’s not enough detail for that. The expression on the face is neutral, eyes closed, mouth not smiling or frowning. Gabe turns the page to face Valeri properly, uncapped marker still in hand. From there he adds one more detail, this one is not so average or ordinary. In the center of the drawing’s forehead he adds an eye, a third eye, though this one is open wide, a second marker used to colour in the iris. With the sclera coloured in with the original line colour of purple Gabe seems satisfied enough to put both markers away.

“So, this is the third eye. It’s like your mind’s eye or whatever. Maybe next time they tell you to walk around without walking around or whatever, imagine that you have a third eye and that it opens up so you can see the room first. I read somewhere that it’s a pretty powerful image, maybe it can help you with the doctor.” Vale is still not sure he understands what’s going on, it seems silly to imagine himself with another eye like he’s a mutant or something but he nods anyway. It couldn’t hurt to try it right? And Gabe knew a lot about a lot of things, maybe it would help.

“Okay Gabe. I’ll try. Can I keep it?” He points at the drawing. He wants to look at it again later, to remind himself of what he needs to try, plus it looks kind of cool, sketchy lines and all.

“Yeah of course.” Gabe’s amused at the question, pushing the paper closer, watching Vale tuck it into his bag with a smile. Something hits him however, his smile faltering just a little, leaving his eyes entirely. He lowers the volume of his voice and leans in, offering not a secret but something he doesn’t want the nurses to overhear nonetheless. “Vale, whatever you do, don’t be great okay? However far you can go, whatever you can see, please don’t tell them. Be just good enough that you don’t get punished. Trust me.”

The nurse that had been watching the pair doesn’t like the way Gabe moved in, doesn’t like that he’s talking just a little too softly to be overheard. He comes in to collect the wayward student, using the threat of a punishment to get him up and out of the chair. Gabe gives the guy a hard time, complaining loudly enough to interrupt the whole class, winking at his younger friend while he gets taken away. The shouting and complaining is a game to him, to rile up the nurses and see how much trouble he can get in before he really does have to face the punishment. Vale wonders why it is that Gabe is here, if there’s reasons beyond scared parents and strange tests. He’s too scared to ask.

The boy watches as his friend walks away and wonders if he can open the eye in his mind.

---

(To be continued)

2 Eyes Closed 1 Eye Open, Ch4

A Boy Is Spotted

There is a common room on the second floor, a small grouping of mismatched couches and chairs making up the seating, a handful of small tables dotting the spaces between them. There are two TVs, both on though one is muted, hanging between two windows completely forgotten at least for the time being. The other isn’t muted though the sound is so low only the couch closest to it has any chance of hearing it, if anyone had chosen to sit there. The room is strangely empty, making Valeri feel more brave than he has since his arrival here, or at least less nervous about every small movement.

He heads for the couch nearest the TV, trying not to make eye contact with the older kids that sat alone, books and paper scattered on the tables in front of them. For the most part they don’t bother to look up, ignoring the new boy and his timid steps. Once upon a time they were in his shoes, just as new with just as little knowledge about the building around them and the people within it. They might have pitied him and his ignorance, if they looked up to see the worried crease of his brows on his forehead but they keep their eyes down. They’re too tired to feel anything but apathy now when it comes to new faces. Valeri doesn’t mind.

The couch is surprisingly comfortable, for all that it appears to be falling apart, stuffing poking out at a few worn down seams. Valeri pulls his feet up, shoes discarded, tucked beneath him as he sinks into the cushions. There’s an imprint here already, left after years of use from various bodies placed exactly where his is now. It’s enough of a welcome that Valeri actually feels some of the tension in his shoulders leave, leaning back into the couch. That lasts only a moment before he’s leaning forward again in search of a remote. Some cartoons would help make the day feel somewhat close to normal.

“You gotta get up and do it by hand, or ask the nurse to change it. They have all the remotes, they have all the power but they like to say no.” The voice comes from beside the couch, startling Valeri. It’s the boy from before, the one who mocked the welcoming speech. He’s tucked away out of sight, leaning against an armrest using a pillow from a nearby chair as a makeshift seat. Valeri can’t remember what name the man had used earlier, he only remembers how scary the words and ideas he’d used were. “But I’m actually watching this so I’d appreciate you not changing it right now. In a couple of hours I’ll have to give up the set to the regular crowd. This show’s cool, they’re talking about abductees from like, Roswell.”

“Sorry.” Valeri isn’t entirely sure he understands the importance of Roswell or abductions that happened there but he doesn’t admit it. His toes wiggle in their socks, fingers twist themselves into his shirt, his earlier confidence drained. Going back into his room until lunch or dinner or whatever meal was next sounds like a good plan in theory but it’s empty save for the boredom that chased him down here in the first place. To go back now would mean staring at more blank walls, trying to decide if the cracks looked like faces or not.

The apology is louder than the TV and is apparently more interesting than the strange program about Roswell. The older boy is still looking at Valeri with one eyebrow raised, mouth pulled to one side. Even away from the doctors he is watched. Without checking he can tell there are eyes on him, the feeling of it burning into his skin, goosebumps on his arms. His nose itches but he doesn’t scratch it, ignoring the twitch of his fingers in his lap. The boy refuses to move, he is a statue, boring and uninteresting to observe. Surely this other boy would tire of looking at him soon.

The TV gives off a loud noise, playing clips that flashed from light to dark in an attempt to regain attention. Valeri stares at it, not really taking in what he’s seeing, eyes watering from a need to blink that he’d denying. Silently he begs for it to be enough, for those eyes to move away from him, to return to the show that had been so important to them. He gets his wish, a sigh of relief barely escaping his lips. The morning’s scene played through his head. This boy had been so loud and brash, gathering exactly the kind of attention Valeri doesn’t want. Still, it had been a little thrilling to see how little fear he has when it comes to the adults here.

“I’m Gabriel, Gabe for short. Only the assholes working here call me Gab so don’t call me that.” Gabe doesn’t look away from the TV set to speak this time and Valeri only flinches a little at the sound of his voice. Anyone who was unafraid to face the people in charge were also probably unafraid of saying exactly what they thought. Valeri doesn’t want to know what Gabe thinks of him. “Sorry if I freaked you out earlier. I just really hate hearing that stupid speech. There’s not a lot to do here so you gotta make your own entertainment. Pranks are good for that.”

Valeri shifts in place, freeing one of the feet trapped beneath him, wiggling toes to keep the pins and needles he’s feeling from settling in for the long haul. To hear it was little more than a joke is helpful. His shoulders relax once more, no longer resting up near his earlobes, the couch gets comfortable again while he calms down. Outside of a group, with no tension or anxiety to play off of those around Gabe doesn’t seem so scary. The boy feels a little silly for being so worried in the first place, after all his parents wouldn’t have left him here if it was dangerous. They love him, they want to keep him safe, they wouldn’t even let him sit in the car in the parking lot without a seatbelt. The danger was all in his head.

“Valeri, I’m Valeri and I wasn’t scared.” That’s a lie, he was definitely scared at the time but he doesn’t want Gabriel to know that. The last thing he wants is to look like a baby in front of the older boy, or stupid for that matter. He has no clue what a lobotomy is but he wasn’t going to admit as much to the other boy.

“My bad. Some of the other kids looked scared. I just assumed.” Gabe sees right through the lie, it wasn’t a very good one, but he says nothing on the matter. Once, many, many years ago, he knew what it was like to be in Valeri’s position. He’d worn similar shoes once. Besides it would do noone any good to upset the boy further today. All that would get would be trouble from one of the nurses or doctors and the punishment wasn’t worth it. “Valeri’s kind of a mouthful. What about Vale? Can I call you Vale?”

“Yeah, you can.” Just like with the lie, Valeri doesn’t do a good job of hiding his excitement. Nicknames are shared between friends and if he’s honest with himself while he might find Gabe extremely intimidating, he also thinks he’s really cool. Older with a talent for causing trouble, he’s exactly the kind of kid his parents won’t approve of but they’d left him here. They weren’t here to monitor his life anymore. They’d walked away with tearful goodbyes and without looking back even once. Valeri wants to rebel against them and he wants a friend. This place is too big, too bright, too much like a hospital to navigate it alone and any friend would be preferable to none at all.

“Cool. Watch this alien marathon with me? Someone else has to be educated on the extraterrestrial menaces we face.” The invitation is accepted with a nod, restless fingers finding a ratty crochet blanket with holes they can stick themselves through. Without another word the boy settle in, adjusting themselves to the whisper volume of the TV. Vale wants to turn it up but he assumes that there’s a reason for it to be so quiet. Maybe it’s to keep from bothering the others in the room with their books and their papers spread out in front of them. Or perhaps it’s to keep the nurses from changing the channel with the remote they kept hidden away.

The reason doesn’t matter and it’s not long before he stops noticing how quiet it is, the room itself is nearly as silent as a tomb without the low murmur of the TV. He figures out how to pick out the lines of dialogue without sitting mere inches away from the screen though at some point he does slip from the couch to the floor, sitting cross legged there as Gabe was already. The sound was clearer down here, which explains the choice of seating in the first place. Neither boy said a word, not about the program or anything else, eyes glued to the screen even during commercials.

“Gabriel!”

This time it’s not just Valeri who jumps at the sudden voice though he is the only one that looks surprised by it. He’d gotten so used to the whispering speakers that he’d forgotten it was so quiet. Gabe recovers from the shock faster than the younger boy does, giving him a look before he sighs. Turning he doesn’t bother to get off the floor, twisting in place to look at whoever it was that broke the moment with a near shout. Clearly he’s not impressed with whom he sees, returning to the screen and it’s extremely phoney looking UFO.

That just leads to the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them, their foot tapping loud enough that it drowns out the woman who was recounting her abduction experience. Gabe groans, rolling his eyes in the most exaggerated manner he can manage, spinning on his pillow to face the person so desperate to get his attention.

“Gabriel, what do you think you’re doing? You know you’re supposed to be in with Doctor Duco right now. Even if you weren’t you’re skipping your classes right now.” Valeri doesn’t follow Gabe’s lead, he stays seated as he was before, eyes glued to the TV screen. It’s not because he’s super invested in the show, in fact he has little idea as to what’s happening in it currently but he doesn’t want to move and draw attention to himself. He’s afraid that he’ll get into the same kind of trouble as Gabe, if they find out he’s also sitting here. The couch is fairly large, he just hopes it’s large enough for a shield.

“Right now I’m learning that there was definitely a UFO that crashed in Rowell and now aliens are abducting us all. Now the experts can’t decide if they’re greys or reptilians but they are taking us, that they can agree on. I think it’s far more important to know how to spot an alien then it is to know how to do algebra, don’t you agree?” The amount Gabe cared, or rather didn’t, about what he was supposed to be doing was clear in his voice. He uses the armrest as a pillow, making a show of getting more comfortable where he was sitting, Valeri can’t really see him do it though he catches the movement from the corner of his eye.

“Gabriel you will go to Doctor Duco’s office this moment or I will revoke your common room privileges entirely. There are new kids here, you’re supposed to set a good example for them.”

“Why not just tell them all to stay far, far away from me like the last set?” The older boy seems to be no closer to moving from his place, his tone darkening just a little with his response. Valeri isn’t entirely certain what’s happening here but he does know that he would much rather be anywhere else than in the middle of it.

“You know we don’t enjoy punishing you. Now come on. If you go now then we’ll tack another hour onto your TV time tonight. Just come without making a big scene or production about it.” The adult’s voice sounds tired now as they made what was clearly their final offer. Even if Valeri had never met this person before, he knew the inflection they used, the weight of their meaning. There was clearly something unpleasant in store if Gabe chose not to follow their advice. For the first time since the newcomer had spoken up Valeri moved, not a lot, just enough to see Gabe’s face.

“Fine. I’m coming.” Using the armrest the older boy gets to his feet, towering over Valeri’s hiding spot now. To his credit he doesn’t look down, doesn’t draw any attention towards the second person watching TV. He just picks up the pillow he was sitting on and half tosses it at the chair it must belong to, the pattern on both the same dated floral print. It bounces, falling to the floor one more time. Gabriel pauses, staring at it just as Valeri’s staring at it, internal debate clear on his face. In the end picking it up wins out, a sigh pushed from his lips as he bends over. There’s hesitation as his fingers curl around one half empty corner.

“They don’t enjoy the punishment, they love it. They get off on it.”

Gabe might as well have been muttering to himself. Valeri doesn’t understand what he means with his words or the wrinkled expression on his face. Rather than ask and risk getting themselves both in trouble he nods. He might not know what the older boy meant but he can tell it’s not good. He wonders if his parents realize what kind of place they left their son in, full of mysteries and worry.

---

Chapter 5

2 Eyes Closed 1 Eye Open, ch3

A Boy Is Observed

White. Everything in this building is white. It hurts his eyes to look at, especially since the light above him is so bright. This room is nearly identical to the room he was in the day before only it was on a different level. He wonders just how many of these rooms there are, if there is just floor upon floor of small rooms with strangely tinted mirrors that hides another room full of scientists. He doesn't want to think about this. It makes him uncomfortable but he can't stop imagining it. He wants to run out of here but the soft click of a lock had echoed through the room just a few moments before this. He is trapped here, at least for now.

In the mirror he sees himself, blue jeans, red sweater, brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin browned by the sun. He is plain and ordinary in crowds but in this room he stands out. He always wants to be the centre of attention except for right now. Right now he wants to wait himself the same colour as this room, wants to lay down and disappear from the eyes watching him. He can't see them but he knows they are watching. For a brief moment he thinks he can hide just beneath the mirror’s edge, that he's discovered a blind spot but then he spots the only bit of colour in this room that does not belong to him. A tiny, blinking red light is all that draws attention to the camera in the corner. This room has no blind spots.

He fidgets in front of the mirror, watching the way his fingers twist and tap themselves in its reflection. There are no instructions given, no commands to tell Valeri just what it is that he’s here for. Intake the doctor had called it. It’s a word he’s not certain about, he’s never heard it before and his mind fills in his questions with its own imaginative answers. He doesn’t like the suggestions that his mind gives about what the word might mean. Every option seems to suggest that he was stuck here, trapped. His parents had said that they would be back in a week, just a week and then he could home. A week in this place would be too long, already he was feeling caged by this lack of colour and lack of sun. Valeri loved the outside. Would he spend this whole week inside? He hoped not.

“Face the wall.”

A voice crackles over the speaker that is painted just like the camera. It startles him, he didn’t see it in his observation of the room, it doesn’t have a little light to draw attention to it. Listening to the instruction he turns to stare at the wall. His fidgeting gets worse. He can see the texture of the wall, the uneven surface marred with vertical streaks to show the path the brush took when it was applied. His eyes follow the shadow lines up and down the wall, using that to occupy himself while there is more silence. It's not enough to keep the questions from whispering in his head but he is saved from them when the crackling voice asks him to face the mirror once more.

“Valeri Sycamore, room assignment 313. Breakfast is at seven, lunch at eleven, dinner at five. If you miss a meal you miss a meal. Speak to a monitor if you need a drink between meals. Your schedule will be delivered to your room. You are dismissed.”

He is lead up stairs to a long hallway full of doors. They are all solid save for small windows, too high up for him to look through, leaving their rooms a mystery to him. It is only because two doors are marked with a figure each that Valeri figured out where the bathrooms are. This does also have a window into their depths and he is uncertain how he feels about that. Bathrooms are private things, a window means he could be seen, could be watched. His stomach virus with the notion and he very much wants to call his parents only they left him here and didn't say when they'd be home.

Here the boy would always be watched.

His room is near the end of this hall, a large set of double doors like the kind in his school are barely more than 10 steps away. These doors are the only ones with windows low enough he can see through them, though all that lays behind them is just enough hallway for there to be a turn with no indication as to what is on the other side of the corner. He’s still wondering what’s just around the bend when the door to the room labeled 313 is pushed open for him. The creak in the door distracts him, a sound that echos loudly in the nearly silent hallway. It draws his gaze back to the room he’s been to delivered to.

Just as every other room has had, this one has white walls, a white dresser, a white chair. The only thing that isn't lacking in colour is the blanket spread across the top of a narrow bed. It's an attempt to counter the rest of the room, patches of every colour stitched together in what might have been a pattern, if studied hard enough. Valeri doesn't have a knack for puzzles really but he lets his eyes wander the paths between colours as if he might unravel its mystery just by looking hard enough. Perhaps if he stepped closer there would be some sort of clue as to the meaning of each shape but the boy is rooted in place. The door is open but an unseen force keeps him from taking that first step forward.

A hand presses firmly against his back, just enough to make Valeri lurch forward, feet passing through the doorframe followed by the rest of him. He is inside.

The door only creaks when opened, it’s silent when it closes behind the boy. He is left in the room, footsteps outside barely audible as his guide walks away. He’s not locked in, though frozen moments before he finds himself spinning to test the knob before its had a chance to settle back into place. The woman who had shown him the way doesn’t bother to turn around, even though the door squeaks once more, a loud and horrid sound. He closes it, cuts himself off from the long hallway this time. There are more doors than he’s ever seen before in one hallway but the place feels empty. Feels cold.

He sits himself upon the slimb bed and wraps the odd blanket around himself. It does nothing to ward off the chill that is determined to set itself in his bones, fingertips like ice when they brush against the palms of his hands. From his new position he can see a clock with a digital face, faint green glow of the numbers staining the paint with their light. It sits right above the doorway, angled downwards just enough to make it easy to read, particularly from the head of the bed. Breakfast is at seven, lunch at eleven, dinner at five. The clock on the wall felt larger than most, glaring down at the boy.

Valeri feels smaller than he ever has before.

---

Chapter 4

2 Eyes Closed 1 Eye Open, Ch2

A Boy Waits

The boy's name is Valeri. He stands at the front of a group of children not by choice but from necessity. He is the youngest among him. Most have just reached the awkward age of puberty, twelve and thirteen years old, limbs changing more dramatically than before. One girl is closer to his size but at eight or nine she is still older than Valeria seven. He stands at the front so he can see the doctor in front better. He doesn't want to see the doctor better, he wants to push his way through the small crowd, back out the door he came in through.

He wants ice cream and movies. Today was supposed to be for ice cream and movies. Instead it is for speeches from doctors.

The boy, Valeri, doesn't understand the speech. Welcome to the Institute where they study humans with extraordinary abilities. He has no extraordinary abilities, he just has funny dreams about sleeping. Sometimes scary dreams about sleeping but there is nothing strange about that. Everyone has weird dreams. Dreams by their definition are odd and peculiar. He wants his mom. He wants his dad. He doesn't want to listen.

A sleepover in a white room. Beeping monitors and electrodes on his head. A man in a chair telling secrets to a sleeping boy. It was just a funny dream but now he's stuck here. His mom and dad have driven away and left him with these doctors and their strange words and ideas. He had said no to the sleepover until the promise of ice cream and movies. The promise was broken. He will never trust anyone again, especially not the doctor in white, talking about things he doesn’t understand.

Instead of listening he looks about the room, trying to understand the place he has been left in. Just like the last, this room is white, or it might have been at one point but everything is just a shade or two off from one another. Unlike mismatched blacks it’s not distracting. It actually makes it feel less sterile than the other room. It feels nothing like home, even if the woman says that they should treat it as such. He doesn’t want this to be his home, he has a home with his mom and his dad. They left him here with a hug and tears and a promise to be back soon. He doesn’t believe them.

The doctor concludes her speech and Valeri realizes he doesn’t know a thing she said beyond ‘welcome’ and ‘unusual abilities’. Worry settles into his small frame, making him even smaller as he curls into himself. What if there’s a test? What if he missed something important in that lecture. He peers up at the faces of those around him but they give nothing away. Everyone looks to be either nervous, confused, or somewhere inbetween. Even those that had looked so confident as they’d all been ushered into this room looked as though they weren’t certain about anything anymore.

The boy should have listened.

“Welcome to the Institute where we research humans with extraordinary abilities like you.”

A murmur runs through the crowd. This was the same introduction the doctor had used except this time it comes from the mouth of a child. They look eleven, maybe twelve, height from the chair they were standing on, rather than years. Their sweater was green, bright green and it draws Valeri’s eye. Unlike the doctor who blended into the room’s decor, this kid stands out, keeps the boy’s attention. This time he can listen to the speech, it’s a relief, he won’t go without the information like he expected to.

“Of course if you don’t give them enough skill and growth then you’ll discover what a lobotomy feels like and if you give them too much you’ll ’graduate’.” This wasn’t the same speech then, not even close. Valeri’s stomach falls, a pit at the bottom of it, swallowing the ground out from beneath him. “Not sure which is worse. You’re all basically prisoners now, to be subjected to harsh experiments that are seemingly chosen at random.”

“Gab you mouthpiece. Get down or we’ll have to file a report. You’ll lose your TV privileges which means no more of those made for TV sci-fi pieces of crap you’re using to scare the newbies with.”

An orderly pipes up, interrupts the kid on the chair from saying anything more. Still, it’s done it’s job, now everyone looks worried, even those that had seemed so confident beforehand. There’s a tension in the air that’s almost palpable, it leaves the hairs on everyone’s neck standing when someone announces it’s time for intake. There’s a shuffling of feet as they all take a step backwards. It’s one movement as if they all share the same brain, the same gut instinct telling them to get away from the strangers as if that might do something. The entrance was far behind them, a whole level away, no one was getting out. Not yet.

The next movement is less uniform, though they all still move at once. This one is to try and make the kid next to them into a living shield, to try to put someone else between themselves and the newcomer who had announced the next stage of this process. It doesn’t matter that it is Valeri who’s left at the front of the group, that it is him the new woman’s eyes fall on first. It’s not his name she calls. There’s a list on her clipboard that lists the first child she wants to see, leaving the rest wondering  just what exactly is in store for them.

White chairs slowly fill with the waiting bodies of children who watch as their peers are pulled away into another room, not returning when the technician does. It’s just her and her clipboard and another name, another of their numbers pulled away for who knew what. Valeri is scared, nervous, stomach twisting itself into impressive knots. In the white of the room his eyes are drawn to the green sweater of the boy who stood on a chair an hour ago and made an announcement about the fate they had to look forward to. The boy has no idea what a lobotomy is but he knows it’s not good. He can’t pull his eyes away from the boy in the green, even as the room empties one person at a time.

It’s just the two of them in the end. The boy in the green who’s bracelet marks him as a member of the Institute already and the boy wit the funny dreams whose parents left while holding back tears. Valeri wonders if he should say something, speak up, ask a question, anything to break this silence but someone beats him to it. Click, click, click. The woman with the clipboard returns, her shoes clicking against tile.

“Valeri? Your turn, let’s go.”

She smiles. He frowns. One last look at the boy in green then Valeri gets to his feet to follow her, destination entirely unknown.

---

Chapter 3

2 Eyes Closed 1 Eye Open, Ch.1

A Boy Is Watched

The room the boy is in is white. It is nearly pure but the floors have been walked on just enough to leave scuffs of colour and the light bulbs throw off enough yellow that it isn't a blinding white. Still it is white enough to feel sterile and strange around the boy who wearing blue jeans and a red t-shirt. He stands out on the monitor, the camera trained right on him. His eyebrows knit together, mouth set in a firm line, concentration clear on his face.

The boy is watched.

The room that observes the boy is not white. It is a combination of greys and browns, the only white from the lab coats of those observing. They watch through monitors and glass, jotting down notes on clipboards, tapping out points of interest on noisy keyboards. The boy knows nothing of the room on the other side of the mirror. He only knows his white room and his feet tucked beneath him and the hard tile he sits on.

The boy is watched.

A mother's heart stumbles in its beats, hand placed upon her chest to ensure that it hasn't stopped altogether. She is sitting in a brown chair that looks a little dated, the padding long since worn down. The monitors are not visible from where she sits but she can see through the two-way glass. Her little boy is sitting there, out of arms reach, looking exhausted. She is nervous for him, so anxious that she skipped her breakfast while making sure he ate his. Now her stomach twists in painful knots from the stress of the day. She fidgets.

The boy is watched.

A father paces, back and forth, back and forth, as if trying to create a new pathway in white tile. It's the same white tile his son sits upon only separated by wall and glass. He glances at his wife, notices her hand upon her chest. His nerves are also shot but his fear isn't just for the boy, it is of the boy. He loves his son but something has changed and now he cannot see him in the same light. Except for now, when he looks so small in the white room with its harsh lights.

“I can't do it.” He says, voice crackling through the speakers. He is alone in the room but he knows they can hear him. “It's a sleeping thing. I'm awake. I can't do it.”

The boy is watched.

A scientist, one with a crooked name badge and bags beneath his eyes turns to speak to the parents. The mother trembles a little, enough that her husband notices. Enough to make his pacing stop, feet next to her chair. He rests a hand upon her shoulder and asks a question. It is answered and he nods his head. With the hand that dangles by his side he takes the clipboard handed to him and signs the paper upon it. His wife does the same, her signature shakier than the one produced earlier that morning. They are waved forward and directed to hit a small button, on the far end of the console.

“Hey honey, what about a sleepover?”

A mother does her best to make her voice steadier than her hand had been, forced smile on her lips. The boy cannot see her.

“Here? Is Aleck gonna sleep over too?”

A mother takes a deep breath and holds back a strangled sob. She is guided back to her chair by her husband who takes up her place at the microphone.

“Sorry kiddo, just a sleepover for you. Doesn't that sound cool? They got some neat science stuff they want to show you.”

“No. I don't wanna.”

The boy pouts at the glass though his eyes wander from corner to corner until they rest upon the speaker mounted just below it. It has been painted white, just like the rest of the room. Clean. Sterile. Cold. He does not want to stay here overnight. This place is too uncomfortable for sleep.

“I'm sorry Valeri but the scientists say it's all a part of the test. Tell you what, tomorrow I'll call the school again. You don't have to go, we can spend it watching movies and I'll buy you ice cream.”

A father thinks his promise is a good one. He knows his son likes ice cream and movies and maybe that is enough to keep him from complaining too much. His son had been excited to come here in the first place, no bribery needed but that was hours ago and now he was getting restless. A father is restless too, just as his wife is nervous.

“Only if it's mint chocolate.”

The boy gives what he thinks is a good ultimatum. Ice cream and movies would make up for the boring day full of tests he didn't understand. That he was failing.

“You got it.”

“Okay.”

A boy is watched.

---

Chapter 2