“I told him he would die in seven days.”
“Good.”
“Two days have already passed.”
“So, that means…”
“He’ll be dead by the end of the week.”
“But, how exactly do you plan to kill him?”
“Oh I’m not going to kill him.” He laughed. His tongue was old.
The younger man became frantic. “What? I don’t understand.”
“Kruger, there’s still a lot you don’t know about the subject.”
“I’m all ears, Mr. Gozia.”
I wanted to learn his truth, badly, as I pressed my ears against the walls. And it wasn’t long before he revealed it…
“The human mind is more insignificant than it’s hyped up to be,” he said. “Riley might be special, but like everyone else, he’s not completely immune.”
I remained standing, absorbing every word they were saying with remarkable unease.
“So this room he’s in,” asked the inquirer, “what’s so special about it?”
The old voice heckled. “No biggie; it’s just that everything inside it is lacking—how should I say it—highlight.”
So many fond memories ran through my head after he had said that line; it was strange, for I hadn’t any good thoughts in quite some time.
“You’re a strange man, Mr. Gozia,” the other guy commended, not sounding too keen.
“If you think I’m strange now … just wait till you see what happens in five days.”
The questioner’s voice, still frosty, replied, “You mean what happens to Riley.”
“Yes.”
There was a pause.
Then the man who had been doing most of the talking spoke again. “Kruger, why don’t you pay Riley a little visit if you need to see how he’s doing?”
“No thanks. I heard what Riley did to that poor woman yesterday. She might never return to work because of it.”
“Yes, I heard of it from one of the other employees, but the good news is that she’s still in one piece, right?” He laughed.
“Humph, that as it may, Mr. Gozia, I don’t think you should torment the kid like this. I mean … it’s not like he’s some kind of criminal or something. He was just doing what—”
“Kruger, I don’t care what he was doing! Riley will die … even if he is innocent.”
“Mr. Gozia,” the inquirer struck abruptly. Then he stopped. Sorry, I don’t think I want any part of this.”
I continued to listen, but I heard nothing else after that—only footsteps walking away.
***
My name is Riley. I’m not certain of my last name. I’m either eighteen or nineteen and my body is frail. I’m not a robot, never been a lab experiment either, but my brain had recollection of me growing up in New Zealand with practically no family whatsoever. It’s been two days since I’ve been captured—thrown in here. I’m inside this room—a small room with four white walls, a white ceiling, and a white floor that sparkles the reflection of white lights hanging from above.
From head to toe my body has been painted white, and the clothes (pants and vest) I’ve been forced to wear are the same shade too. There are no windows in the room, no voices, no sights, and no means of recreation. If I could speak, I’d be shouting for freedom right now, but my tongue, just so I couldn’t use it, had been cut off by one of Gozia’s lackeys the day before … while I was awake. But I know the real reason he let them take my tongue. It wasn’t just because he didn’t want to hear my screams. No, he let them do it for a much bigger reason—because he knew I was more special than he would ever be.
I was unique to the extent that for the past two days strange men had to occasionally enter my room while wearing full white suits whenever they came to feed me with popcorn that lacked their kernels, and paper plates of white rice accompanied by white shakers of salt. Only one glass of water was attached to each meal. No one would ever talk to me when they brought me food. And because I didn’t have a tongue to say what was on my mind I merely sat in a corner of the blinding room and refused to make eye contact with anyone.
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