jacksjg89
PROCRASTINATOR
Again, special thanks to my editor Eulalia
Part 1
A young woman crept through the basement floor of St. Joans in nothing but a white lab coat that had “Dr. S Blanketship” printed on it. She was completely barefoot, her black hair was a mess, and she was shivering with panic. She dodged from room to room, checking hallways looking around corners, but everything seemed quiet. She had no idea how long it had been, and she had even less of an idea of what time of day it was. There were no windows in sight, nor were there stairs.
Wait, there’s some over there, behind that padlocked gate. She walked over to it, taking special care not to draw attention from anyone keeping watch above the landing, and then looked for any weak link in the chains. Her toil determined that there were 216 squares in the gate, and 28 triangles, but she still couldn’t get through. Then she had an idea!
There was a closet by the way, large enough to fit a slender girl like herself in it. She would take this beaker full of unidentified liquid and toss it- Wow, that was loud.
Without a second to lose she hid herself in the closet, and waited for the sound of a gate unlocking.
Footsteps, the clinking of metal, more footsteps, mutterings, male mutterings, and then fading footsteps. Silence.
But the young woman remained where she was. There were good odds that there was no one on the other side of the closet door, but what if she was wrong? She would never have another chance to escape again. Eternity would be spent in Room 67. She would kill herself before returning there. She had the small shard of glass in her pocket, ready for such purpose.
Slowly, with one hand in her pocket, she peeked out, to find it all clear. She still gripped the sharp remains of the large pill bottle. The gate was closed, yet it unlocked in front of her. All she had to do was lift up the handle, and…
The force of the electric shock force her back, screaming, and she slammed against the counter, her weapon falling from her hands, and her coat falling open to reveal nothing underneath. And just then, two men in white lab coats stepped out from their own cupboards to examine the patient.
Soon, the room was full of male doctors looking down at poor 67, sobbing uncontrollably and trying to keep her coat wrapped around her. The doctors tried to help her up, but she didn’t want help. She wanted to die. She curled herself up into the tiniest little ball and rolled back and forth in misery.
This went on until doctor Simon Blanketship, still rubbing the back of his head, entered the room with the intention of returning 67 back to 67. And to retrieve his lab coat. Though he was wearing pin stripe pants, a white collar shirt with blue stripes, a vest with a watch chain hanging out of his pocket, and black leather shoes valued at $400, he felt practically nude without his lab coat.
“But she won’t get up doctor?” said one of the male nurses.
“Then pick her up,” said Dr. Blanketship, not feeling particularly happy with his patient.
Protocol was that force was never to be used, unless the doctor in charge of the patient authorized it. This being the case, the stronger nurses untangled the girls fingers and stretched her arms in front of her, and then proceeded to yank the coat off of the girl, to the distress of the doctor, who was concerned about the condition of his favorite article of clothing.
“Be careful you imbeciles,” he hissed to the nurses. But he need have had no anxieties. His coat was returned to him in perfect condition, and once he put it on he felt fully clothed again, unlike 67, who was completely naked.
She took advantage of a moment of freedom to dive for her glass shard, crawled into the corner of the room, her bare backside against the cold plaster, one hand holding the glass up to her neck, the other doing a poor job of covering her overgrown bush, which all those present were very familiar with, as they were with her small breast that sagged ever so slightly, remaining exposed.
“Don’t come near me,” 67 threatened.
The young skinny nurse looked worried, while the other stronger nurses were mildly confused about what they should do. But Dr. Blanketship, straightening out his precious coat and showing unconcern for the pale, nude girl, backed into the corner threatening to cut her throat, simply asked, “And why, my dear, should we come near you?”
“You want to put me in that room again. You’re going to let demons hurt me. I don’t want to be hurt by demons or anyone. I would rather die.”
“Young lady,” said the doctor in condescending, restrained anger, “This is a hospital, not a bondage dungeon. People come here because they wish to get better. You, it would appear, have no such desire. You say that you do not wish to return to your apartment in this establishment, and I tell you that you are no longer welcome in this establishment.”
When she heard this, 67 took the glass away from her neck, and used that arm to cover her breast. “You’ll... just let me go?” She asked, astounded.
After he had finished straightening his coat, Dr. Blanketship pulled a piece of yellow cloth from his chest pocket and used it to polish his glasses. “We are not just letting you go. We are sending you away. If you wish to kill yourself, you may do so elsewhere. I’m afraid we can do nothing more for you here at St. Joans.”
It had been a long time since 67 had last smiled. In fact, she had had another name back then, which has since been lost. “That’s fine,” she said, giddy with excitement, and reaching the point of hysterical laughter. “That’s alright. Just tell me how I can get out of her. Also, I need some clothes. And I also need my name. But if you don’t have that, I really need clothes.”
“I can see that. Going around naked in public is not the behavior of a healthy person. If you go through the gate and up the stairs, you’ll get to reception. They will have the clothes you came in with, as well as your wallet with all your identification cards in it.”
“Thank you,” said 67, passing over the opportunity to point out that it was the hospital that had kept her naked throughout the entire length of her stay, which had lasted longer than she could remember, but which was finally coming to an end. “Thank you. I’ll be leaving then,” And she moved sideways, still trying to cover herself with her back to the wall.”
“Goodbye.” Said the doctor.
“Goodbye,” She said, as she lifted her hand from between her thighs to push the gate open, only to remember too late. Once again, she dropped her glass shard, which shattered beyond use as she was thrown, forward this time, headlong into the counter. Next this she knew, the nurses had a tight grip over her arms and were escorting her back from the way she came.
“Reverse psychology,” said Dr. Blanketship to the young nurse. “It never fails.”
Part 1
A young woman crept through the basement floor of St. Joans in nothing but a white lab coat that had “Dr. S Blanketship” printed on it. She was completely barefoot, her black hair was a mess, and she was shivering with panic. She dodged from room to room, checking hallways looking around corners, but everything seemed quiet. She had no idea how long it had been, and she had even less of an idea of what time of day it was. There were no windows in sight, nor were there stairs.
Wait, there’s some over there, behind that padlocked gate. She walked over to it, taking special care not to draw attention from anyone keeping watch above the landing, and then looked for any weak link in the chains. Her toil determined that there were 216 squares in the gate, and 28 triangles, but she still couldn’t get through. Then she had an idea!
There was a closet by the way, large enough to fit a slender girl like herself in it. She would take this beaker full of unidentified liquid and toss it- Wow, that was loud.
Without a second to lose she hid herself in the closet, and waited for the sound of a gate unlocking.
Footsteps, the clinking of metal, more footsteps, mutterings, male mutterings, and then fading footsteps. Silence.
But the young woman remained where she was. There were good odds that there was no one on the other side of the closet door, but what if she was wrong? She would never have another chance to escape again. Eternity would be spent in Room 67. She would kill herself before returning there. She had the small shard of glass in her pocket, ready for such purpose.
Slowly, with one hand in her pocket, she peeked out, to find it all clear. She still gripped the sharp remains of the large pill bottle. The gate was closed, yet it unlocked in front of her. All she had to do was lift up the handle, and…
The force of the electric shock force her back, screaming, and she slammed against the counter, her weapon falling from her hands, and her coat falling open to reveal nothing underneath. And just then, two men in white lab coats stepped out from their own cupboards to examine the patient.
Soon, the room was full of male doctors looking down at poor 67, sobbing uncontrollably and trying to keep her coat wrapped around her. The doctors tried to help her up, but she didn’t want help. She wanted to die. She curled herself up into the tiniest little ball and rolled back and forth in misery.
This went on until doctor Simon Blanketship, still rubbing the back of his head, entered the room with the intention of returning 67 back to 67. And to retrieve his lab coat. Though he was wearing pin stripe pants, a white collar shirt with blue stripes, a vest with a watch chain hanging out of his pocket, and black leather shoes valued at $400, he felt practically nude without his lab coat.
“But she won’t get up doctor?” said one of the male nurses.
“Then pick her up,” said Dr. Blanketship, not feeling particularly happy with his patient.
Protocol was that force was never to be used, unless the doctor in charge of the patient authorized it. This being the case, the stronger nurses untangled the girls fingers and stretched her arms in front of her, and then proceeded to yank the coat off of the girl, to the distress of the doctor, who was concerned about the condition of his favorite article of clothing.
“Be careful you imbeciles,” he hissed to the nurses. But he need have had no anxieties. His coat was returned to him in perfect condition, and once he put it on he felt fully clothed again, unlike 67, who was completely naked.
She took advantage of a moment of freedom to dive for her glass shard, crawled into the corner of the room, her bare backside against the cold plaster, one hand holding the glass up to her neck, the other doing a poor job of covering her overgrown bush, which all those present were very familiar with, as they were with her small breast that sagged ever so slightly, remaining exposed.
“Don’t come near me,” 67 threatened.
The young skinny nurse looked worried, while the other stronger nurses were mildly confused about what they should do. But Dr. Blanketship, straightening out his precious coat and showing unconcern for the pale, nude girl, backed into the corner threatening to cut her throat, simply asked, “And why, my dear, should we come near you?”
“You want to put me in that room again. You’re going to let demons hurt me. I don’t want to be hurt by demons or anyone. I would rather die.”
“Young lady,” said the doctor in condescending, restrained anger, “This is a hospital, not a bondage dungeon. People come here because they wish to get better. You, it would appear, have no such desire. You say that you do not wish to return to your apartment in this establishment, and I tell you that you are no longer welcome in this establishment.”
When she heard this, 67 took the glass away from her neck, and used that arm to cover her breast. “You’ll... just let me go?” She asked, astounded.
After he had finished straightening his coat, Dr. Blanketship pulled a piece of yellow cloth from his chest pocket and used it to polish his glasses. “We are not just letting you go. We are sending you away. If you wish to kill yourself, you may do so elsewhere. I’m afraid we can do nothing more for you here at St. Joans.”
It had been a long time since 67 had last smiled. In fact, she had had another name back then, which has since been lost. “That’s fine,” she said, giddy with excitement, and reaching the point of hysterical laughter. “That’s alright. Just tell me how I can get out of her. Also, I need some clothes. And I also need my name. But if you don’t have that, I really need clothes.”
“I can see that. Going around naked in public is not the behavior of a healthy person. If you go through the gate and up the stairs, you’ll get to reception. They will have the clothes you came in with, as well as your wallet with all your identification cards in it.”
“Thank you,” said 67, passing over the opportunity to point out that it was the hospital that had kept her naked throughout the entire length of her stay, which had lasted longer than she could remember, but which was finally coming to an end. “Thank you. I’ll be leaving then,” And she moved sideways, still trying to cover herself with her back to the wall.”
“Goodbye.” Said the doctor.
“Goodbye,” She said, as she lifted her hand from between her thighs to push the gate open, only to remember too late. Once again, she dropped her glass shard, which shattered beyond use as she was thrown, forward this time, headlong into the counter. Next this she knew, the nurses had a tight grip over her arms and were escorting her back from the way she came.
“Reverse psychology,” said Dr. Blanketship to the young nurse. “It never fails.”
See what I mean....
