The Interviews

Peyton was driven to the clinic by a neighbor and friend named Virginia. The wing she was to spend the next few days in was both barren and simple. The white walls bore no décor of any kind, and the polished floors gleamed. There were about a dozen rooms on each side of the corridor. Each one had a twin bed, a dresser, and a small desk. Suspended from the ceiling was a TV. Peyton placed her clothes in the dresser and her personal items in her private bathroom. She was glad she wouldn’t have to share bathrooms or shower rooms, even if it was just for a few days. She’d showered at home before leaving for the clinic, so she wouldn’t need to do so again until the morning. She ran her fingers through the hair at the back of her head. It still had traces of dampness. She set her laptop down on the table and peered out the window. It overlooked the parking lot four stories below. Then, closing the door to her room behind her and hoping none of the other patients would get curious and enter the room without her presence, she stepped into the middle of the corridor. She glanced in both directions but didn’t see or hear a thing. She walked toward the end where the nurses’ station was located and heard the murmur of voices coming from a room directly off of it. Then she went to check out the lounge. The lounge was empty. It consisted of a sofa and a few plush chairs. There were also some folding chairs leaning up against one wall. A large-screen TV was present along with a Ping-Pong table. There was also a table with snacks and a hot water dispenser for instant coffee, tea, or hot chocolate. Peyton was already beginning to feel lonely, not that she had anyone to go home to. Where were all the other patients? Assuming they simply hadn’t arrived yet, Peyton retraced her steps past the nurses’ station, past the empty rooms, and back into her own room. Maybe there were patients in some of the rooms she hadn’t passed by. Either way, she decided to check in on Facebook and find something to do to pass the time. Fifteen minutes later, a nurse appeared in her doorway. She was a tall, slim nurse with long, straight red hair. The sides were pulled back and secured with a gold barrette. ‘Hope,’ read her name tag. “Hello,” she said with a smile. “It’s Peyton, right?” Peyton nodded. “Yes, that’s me.” “I’ve come to see if you’re settled in nicely and to collect your medications.” “I’m settled in fine, but what do you mean by collect my medications?” “Oh, they didn’t tell you?” Peyton shook her head. “Hospital policy,” the nurse said, almost with an apologetic smile. “We’re not allowed to let patients keep prescription medications, especially pills, in their rooms. We have to take the meds and give them to the patients ourselves.” “Oh.” “Sorry. It’s just a safety policy.” “Well,” Peyton said as she rose from her chair, “I guess that would be ok.” “They just don’t want any accidental mix-ups. They feel the patients are safer if the meds are kept in one secure location and managed by the staff.” Peyton retrieved her medication from the bathroom and handed it to the nurse. “Thanks. We’ll make sure you get your medication at the regular time.” “Ok. So why am I the only one here?” “Oh, you’re not. There are a few others who are probably napping or doing something in their rooms.” “I was just wondering because I didn’t see anyone around when I went to check out the lounge.” “At the moment, I believe there are only five of you, counting yourself. Anyway,” the young nurse said, clasping her hands together, “please be ready to be called to the room that’s to be used for conducting interviews in about ten minutes.” “Where will that be?” “That’s toward the end of the hall opposite the nurses’ station.” An area not yet explored by Peyton. “Ok. So I just walk down there and meet with the doctor?” “Yes, but your regular doctor won’t be the one doing interviews. It’s just another one of our nurses. You’ll hear your name paged over the intercom when she’s ready for you. It’ll be the last door on your right.” “I’ll be listening.” Ten minutes later, just as she was told she would be, she was paged and instructed to meet in the interview room. Peyton once again stepped out into the corridor and closed her door behind her. She passed three or four rooms on both sides of the corridor. There were a few closed doors in which she guessed other patients were behind. She approached the interview room and could see that the door to it was ajar as she did so. Once she could see into the room, she found an older, heavier black woman with close-cropped hair sitting at the room’s small table. The woman looked up at her. “Hello, Miss West. Please have a seat.” Miss? The nurse motioned to the seat across from hers. “I’m Charlina. How are you doing today?” “Ok. Just feeling a little strange,” she said with a slight smile. “We always do when we’re staying in an unfamiliar place, don’t we?” Peyton nodded. “Ok, ready to play Twenty Questions?” “As ready as ever.” Charlina smiled. “Actually, it’s more like fifty, and once again, some may be personal. If any question really bothers you, just say so.” “Ok.” Charlina pressed a button on a recorder and asked the questions. Just as Doctor Ardeno said would be the case, some were trivial while others were more personal, but Peyton answered them all. But then strange things began to happen as the hours passed by. She began to feel weak, dizzy, and disoriented. She had trouble coming up with answers she knew should be simple and take little to no thinking. She would mention it to the staff, but they didn’t seem at all concerned. She also began to lose track of time. They told her she’d only been there a few days, but it seemed much longer than that. She was unusually tired and found herself napping an awful lot. She thought that alone should concern the staff, but it didn’t. Instead, they encouraged her to get as much rest as possible. She had trouble getting her mind to comply with her body. In her mind, she knew she was in trouble. They were doing something to her, and she knew it. Something they shouldn’t be doing. She had no idea what it was, but she did know she shouldn’t feel so drugged and confused. Her mind knew she had to act and act fast. She had to do something to save herself from whatever they were doing to her. But her body just wouldn’t let her. She was so tired and found herself having less and less energy to do much other than try to answer the questions that were asked of her every few hours of the day and night. Another thing that troubled her was the fact that she never saw any other patients on the wing. All she saw were doctors and nurses. To make matters even worse and to raise the red flag even higher was the fact that she was unable to call for help because her devices had gone missing. She demanded her smartphone and laptop be returned to her, knowing damn well that the staff had taken them. Yet they insisted they knew nothing about it and promised to promptly look into it. Once she was refused her devices, she refused to answer any more questions. They kept trying to get her to answer them, but she wouldn’t. They threatened to cancel her payment for participating in the experiment, but she didn’t care. She just didn’t care about the money anymore. All she wanted was to get the hell out of there. She wanted the fog gone from her brain. She wanted to be back in the comfort of her home. She wanted to find out if there was any word on Jon. She left the interview room that day. Usually, someone assisted her back down the corridor because she was just so weak and exhausted. This time, she walked unassisted, moving slowly along the wall for support. But she never made it back to her room.