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Description
Woop! Doctor time! I thought as I rolled my eyes. I pushed open the boring door of boring and walked in to the examination room. The man in the room sat me down on a nice, hard, chair and then started to interrogate me on how I felt. Anything from headaches to a stubbed toe was written down. Stupid Doctor! I thought to myself. You're so annoying, why don't you just go away and leave me alone? Oh, but you can't do that! Li'l ole anaemic me might just faint and die! Yeah, right. I flicked some hair out of my face. The guy was giving me the usual Look; a Look that said 'I'm trying to help you here, can't you try to cooperate'. To be quite honest, I didn't want to be here, so why should I even think about cooperating? I'd been dragged here; no. Not ever dragged. I'd had to be sedated, then carried in. I was proud of that. Now he's going to sigh and send me back, with my normal prescription. Woo! Iron tablets! How I Love thee! I left the horribly boring room, and went back to the ward. God, this care centre SUCKED! I thought and kicked a bin on my way past. I'd escape one day.

That night, I managed to sneak up to the roof. It was simple to pretend to sleep 'til the nurses left, and the last one watching to ward was busy or sleeping or went to get coffee. Then all I had to do was keep low and move fast to the bathrooms. Then head to the boys side and grab Oscar, my only friend, and then race to the floor above. The patients there are kept sedated, so there's only a couple of nurses kept in an office with cameras focused on the patients, not the corridors. As I said, easy.
Oscar is the only one who keeps me here. He'd be really lonely, without me. We're the only two of our age-group here. He agreed to come here, 'cause he's got really severe diabetes. Unlike me, he doesn't just have to take a pill, and then be fine for the rest of the day, he needs a carefully regulated supply of insulin, and a carefully regulated diet. Sometimes he doesn't feel well enough to move, other times, like now, he's like a normal seventeen year old. A few times, he's had even more energy than me. Unlike me, his parents asked him to go here, and can see him, 'cause it was so bad at home. My parents, like me, didn't think I was anywhere near bad enough to be trapped here, but the doctors had said different. Damn doctors. They didn't even let my parents visit. They hated me. I knew it...
Anyway, back to Oscar. He's quite cute; he's about a half foot taller than me, but he is a year older, so I guess it's ok. He's got these brown eyes which, unlike mine, have these amber flecks in them. Mine are like mud, just brown, like my hair. He has the softest blond hair, I mean soft in the colour sense. I've never touched his hair, though I want to, I don't want to upset or confuse him. It tires him out a lot, emotional turmoil. So when we're up here, we normally just sit quietly and look at the stars. Today, however, wasn't normal.
"What do you think happens?" Oscar broke the silence.
"What d'you mean?"
"When you die?"
I looked over at him, confused. He looked back steadily, with his soft, kind eyes. I could tell he just wanted my opinion. "I think... that your spirit is reincarnated. You go into the next available foetus." I answered.
"Hmm..." He sighed thoughtfully. It was quiet for a bit more. Then he spoke again. "That sounds nice."
Soon after that Mrs Tees, one of the nice nurses, came and got us back to our wards.

The next day, Oscar wasn't in the wreck room. It was boring. I ended up sitting and doodling with a crayon. We didn't have pencils or pens here, because of the younger kids. Me and Oscar are the oldest here. Technically, Oscar is the oldest. But he includes me, because he's nice like that.
The oldest, save us, it a twelve year old, then there's quite a few nine to eleven's the rest are under five.
That night I didn't go to the roof, I only go with Oscar.

The next day, Oscar was still too bad to be up and about. But the nurses let me see him. Cause he asked. They led me to the room he'd been moved to. I sat and read to him from his collection of books he'd brought. He had all the harry potter's out at the moment, apparently the next one was the last. He had a few others too, some Terry Pratchett's, and a book called the Divide. This was his favourite. There was a kid with heart disease, who searches for a proper cure. It's all about how he finds it and makes friends along the way. I quite liked it too. After a few hours, I was shoved out. The afternoon passed with me prodding at finger paint.
Late that night, I was woken by the nurses. They took me to Oscar's room. Three doctors in their now not-so-white coats walked out, shaking their heads. One stayed in the room. The nurse ushered me in. It hit me.
Oscar was dying.
I ran to his bed side. He coughed weakly, and smiled up at me. It was horrible. I could see the pain in his eyes, I could see it in every move, every twitch, he made. And yet he smiled, for me. I didn't realise it, but I had started crying. I didn't want him to go. Leave me alone. It was selfish, and I constantly berated myself afterward, but I felt like he was abandoning me. Leaving me without anyone to talk to. He didn't say anything, before he died. He managed to hold my gaze, his breaths coming fast and shallow, then his eyes rolled up, and he fainted. At this point I was shoved aside, and they tried to keep him alive. I ran back to my ward, and collapsed on my bed. I didn't sleep. But I wasn't awake either.

Oscar died about a minute after I had had to leave.

That was what I found out that morning. I ended up in my ward, crying. What horrified me was when I realised what I was crying about. Partly it was for Oscar, he was dead, never coming back. But mainly, I cried for me. For the fact that there was no-one my age left, for the fact I would be alone and for the fact I would have nothing to do during the day. The crying added to my self-disgust made me throw up. The sound of retching brought the nurses, then the doctors who gathered round me. The weakness from throwing up, the lack of sleep last night and the emotional fatigue piled on me, and I slipped into unconsciousness.

It took me another month to get over Oscar's death. I had known it would come sometime, I just didn't think it would be this soon... Soon after, I'd decided that I was going to escape. Oscar wasn't here anymore, so no reason to stay. It's not like they were actually helping. I felt exactly the same here as I did at home. The question was how to do it. I couldn't climb the fence, and I obviously couldn't go out the front door. I looked around the 'garden'; it was really just a big area of grass, with a sandpit to one side. In about half an hour, the younger kids would come out, and the Adults might be distracted enough for me to try and escape. I looked at the tree by the fence, just glancing at it now and then, so I could work out how to climb it without the Adults realising I was thinking about it. They weren't doctors and nurses anymore, they were the Adults.
It took me a week to sort it out. I found the way to my house from the centre, so I'd have somewhere to go. I also noted down where my grandparents were, in case my parents had moved. They probably wouldn't have, I'd only been here for a few years; they'd know it was me. I'd slipped food from meals, and found a couple of empty water bottles. They were in a backpack. Along with a survival book I stole from the reading material. At the end of the week, I managed to get my bag over the fence. All I had to do was wait for a chance to follow it.

Just two days after throwing my bag over, my chance came. A group of toddlers were playing in the sandpit and were throwing it at each other's faces, all the Adults rushed over, leaving the tree open. I ran to it and climbed over. I stole a look back, they hadn't noticed yet. I grabbed my bag, and ran.
I ran to a wooded area near the centre before collapsing, and panting for breath. My heart beat a strange rhythm, causing me pain. I guessed that it was because I hadn't had enough exercise recently. I walked slowly to the river, which I heard gurgling nearby. I sat there for a while, wondering if my parents would still be living in the same house. I wouldn't blame them if they left. I was locked away from them, in arms reach, but blocked off. I could go to my grandparent's if that was the case. I caught my breath, and felt my heart return to its normal beat, then got up and walked along the river, against the current, towards home.

For the next few nights I was jumpy, wondering if they were after me. But I eventually calmed down, and concentrated on moving and not making obvious tracks. At first, I had next to no stamina. I would have to take a break from walking every few hours. But I slowly and steadily built it up, until I was walking without a break for about five hours. I scavenged food from the woods, so that the food in my bag could be saved for when there was nothing else. The survival book was incredibly handy. It showed you how to make a shelter, haw to keep away from dangerous animals and what food was good and what was poisonous. I checked the map, the next day I should reach the edge of the woods. Then it was only a day's walk to home. I settled down to sleep, trying not to think of what I'd find.

I navigated around the familiar roads, and saw the house. My old house. The car was gone, so I looked in the garden. Most of the stuff I remembered was missing. I pushed down my fear. It might still be them, and if it isn't I can go to Granma and Granda's. I assured myself. I waited until later that evening, and saw a car drive in. It could have been our car, I couldn't remember it well. I watched as the people got out. From the back, the man looked like my dad, but as he turned, it was obvious he wasn't. The woman was totally different too, and they had two kids. I thought it wouldn't hurt, but it did. It hurt a lot. I curled up under the hedge at the end of the road, I'd head over to my grandparent's tomorrow, I'd be fine by then.

It took me three hours to walk to their house; it would've taken thirty minutes in the car. I was feeling tired and light headed, I wasn't sleeping well. Though I felt fine in the woodland, I found it exhausting to do anything here, in the city. I walked up to the door and knocked. I waited for my Gran to hobble up and let me in.
She didn't.
A young woman, only in her twenties, opened it. "Can I help you?" She asked frostily.
I blinked, I couldn't believe it. This was my grandparent's house. They wouldn't move. I tried to hold back tears. "Sorry." I whispered. "Err... An elderly couple used to live here; do you know where they've gone?"
"No, and I wouldn't tell a brat like you anyway." The woman sniffed, shutting the door aggressively.
I flinched, tears running tracks down my face. I wandered off; dazed by the realisation that I had nowhere to go, that my family had abandoned me. I didn't see where I was walking, a horn broke my trance. I felt a huge stabbing pain, and fell unconscious.

Two people in pristine lab coats stood over the girl, soon to be a young woman. They looked at her critically, assessing her.
The man spoke first. "Hmm. Looks like Number 45 managed to conquer the effects."
"Indeed." The woman agreed. "We will need to find out how she escaped the hallucination."
"It seems she's awakening." The man's voice held no warmth as he spoke. "Get her up and dressed, I will speak with her in no more than thirty minutes."
The girl, dubbed 45, was in the room within fifteen. She was confused and fearful, flinching away from any sort of contact. "W-what happened to me? Where am I?" She eventually asked.
"You are at a testing facility." The man stated. "I am Dr. Roberts, and she is Dr. Geld." He motioned towards the woman. "We have been testing a drug that induces hallucinations, ones that will go on for at least five years. You, however, managed to break through in just under three." He looked at the girl with interest. "How did you break it?"
"Sorry. I don't know what you mean." She whispered apprehensively.
"What happened right before you woke up?" Dr. Roberts pressed.
"I... Err... I think I got hit by a car..."
"It seems Death in the Hallucination will end it." Dr. Geld hypothesised.
"It's possible. We shall confirm it with the other subjects." Dr. Roberts agreed. "Take her to be examined." He waved his hand at the two, and the girl was removed. He opened his folder, and selected the correct records. He noted down what had been found from the particular trial, then replaced the first of the two. The second he flicked through quickly, checking for abnormalities.
There were none.
Number 45's file was deposited in the 'OUT' tray, while he looked through the list of new subjects for her replacement.

Description
Woop! Doctor time! I thought as I rolled my eyes. I pushed open the boring door of boring and walked in to the examination room. The man in the room sat me down on a nice, hard, chair and then started to interrogate me on how I felt. Anything from headaches to a stubbed toe was written down. Stupid Doctor! I thought to myself. You're so annoying, why don't you just go away and leave me alone? Oh, but you can't do that! Li'l ole anaemic me might just faint and die! Yeah, right. I flicked some hair out of my face. The guy was giving me the usual Look; a Look that said 'I'm trying to help you here, can't you try to cooperate'. To be quite honest, I didn't want to be here, so why should I even think about cooperating? I'd been dragged here; no. Not ever dragged. I'd had to be sedated, then carried in. I was proud of that. Now he's going to sigh and send me back, with my normal prescription. Woo! Iron tablets! How I Love thee! I left the horribly boring room, and went back to the ward. God, this care centre SUCKED! I thought and kicked a bin on my way past. I'd escape one day.

That night, I managed to sneak up to the roof. It was simple to pretend to sleep 'til the nurses left, and the last one watching to ward was busy or sleeping or went to get coffee. Then all I had to do was keep low and move fast to the bathrooms. Then head to the boys side and grab Oscar, my only friend, and then race to the floor above. The patients there are kept sedated, so there's only a couple of nurses kept in an office with cameras focused on the patients, not the corridors. As I said, easy.
Oscar is the only one who keeps me here. He'd be really lonely, without me. We're the only two of our age-group here. He agreed to come here, 'cause he's got really severe diabetes. Unlike me, he doesn't just have to take a pill, and then be fine for the rest of the day, he needs a carefully regulated supply of insulin, and a carefully regulated diet. Sometimes he doesn't feel well enough to move, other times, like now, he's like a normal seventeen year old. A few times, he's had even more energy than me. Unlike me, his parents asked him to go here, and can see him, 'cause it was so bad at home. My parents, like me, didn't think I was anywhere near bad enough to be trapped here, but the doctors had said different. Damn doctors. They didn't even let my parents visit. They hated me. I knew it...
Anyway, back to Oscar. He's quite cute; he's about a half foot taller than me, but he is a year older, so I guess it's ok. He's got these brown eyes which, unlike mine, have these amber flecks in them. Mine are like mud, just brown, like my hair. He has the softest blond hair, I mean soft in the colour sense. I've never touched his hair, though I want to, I don't want to upset or confuse him. It tires him out a lot, emotional turmoil. So when we're up here, we normally just sit quietly and look at the stars. Today, however, wasn't normal.
"What do you think happens?" Oscar broke the silence.
"What d'you mean?"
"When you die?"
I looked over at him, confused. He looked back steadily, with his soft, kind eyes. I could tell he just wanted my opinion. "I think... that your spirit is reincarnated. You go into the next available foetus." I answered.
"Hmm..." He sighed thoughtfully. It was quiet for a bit more. Then he spoke again. "That sounds nice."
Soon after that Mrs Tees, one of the nice nurses, came and got us back to our wards.

The next day, Oscar wasn't in the wreck room. It was boring. I ended up sitting and doodling with a crayon. We didn't have pencils or pens here, because of the younger kids. Me and Oscar are the oldest here. Technically, Oscar is the oldest. But he includes me, because he's nice like that.
The oldest, save us, it a twelve year old, then there's quite a few nine to eleven's the rest are under five.
That night I didn't go to the roof, I only go with Oscar.

The next day, Oscar was still too bad to be up and about. But the nurses let me see him. Cause he asked. They led me to the room he'd been moved to. I sat and read to him from his collection of books he'd brought. He had all the harry potter's out at the moment, apparently the next one was the last. He had a few others too, some Terry Pratchett's, and a book called the Divide. This was his favourite. There was a kid with heart disease, who searches for a proper cure. It's all about how he finds it and makes friends along the way. I quite liked it too. After a few hours, I was shoved out. The afternoon passed with me prodding at finger paint.
Late that night, I was woken by the nurses. They took me to Oscar's room. Three doctors in their now not-so-white coats walked out, shaking their heads. One stayed in the room. The nurse ushered me in. It hit me.
Oscar was dying.
I ran to his bed side. He coughed weakly, and smiled up at me. It was horrible. I could see the pain in his eyes, I could see it in every move, every twitch, he made. And yet he smiled, for me. I didn't realise it, but I had started crying. I didn't want him to go. Leave me alone. It was selfish, and I constantly berated myself afterward, but I felt like he was abandoning me. Leaving me without anyone to talk to. He didn't say anything, before he died. He managed to hold my gaze, his breaths coming fast and shallow, then his eyes rolled up, and he fainted. At this point I was shoved aside, and they tried to keep him alive. I ran back to my ward, and collapsed on my bed. I didn't sleep. But I wasn't awake either.

Oscar died about a minute after I had had to leave.

That was what I found out that morning. I ended up in my ward, crying. What horrified me was when I realised what I was crying about. Partly it was for Oscar, he was dead, never coming back. But mainly, I cried for me. For the fact that there was no-one my age left, for the fact I would be alone and for the fact I would have nothing to do during the day. The crying added to my self-disgust made me throw up. The sound of retching brought the nurses, then the doctors who gathered round me. The weakness from throwing up, the lack of sleep last night and the emotional fatigue piled on me, and I slipped into unconsciousness.

It took me another month to get over Oscar's death. I had known it would come sometime, I just didn't think it would be this soon... Soon after, I'd decided that I was going to escape. Oscar wasn't here anymore, so no reason to stay. It's not like they were actually helping. I felt exactly the same here as I did at home. The question was how to do it. I couldn't climb the fence, and I obviously couldn't go out the front door. I looked around the 'garden'; it was really just a big area of grass, with a sandpit to one side. In about half an hour, the younger kids would come out, and the Adults might be distracted enough for me to try and escape. I looked at the tree by the fence, just glancing at it now and then, so I could work out how to climb it without the Adults realising I was thinking about it. They weren't doctors and nurses anymore, they were the Adults.
It took me a week to sort it out. I found the way to my house from the centre, so I'd have somewhere to go. I also noted down where my grandparents were, in case my parents had moved. They probably wouldn't have, I'd only been here for a few years; they'd know it was me. I'd slipped food from meals, and found a couple of empty water bottles. They were in a backpack. Along with a survival book I stole from the reading material. At the end of the week, I managed to get my bag over the fence. All I had to do was wait for a chance to follow it.

Just two days after throwing my bag over, my chance came. A group of toddlers were playing in the sandpit and were throwing it at each other's faces, all the Adults rushed over, leaving the tree open. I ran to it and climbed over. I stole a look back, they hadn't noticed yet. I grabbed my bag, and ran.
I ran to a wooded area near the centre before collapsing, and panting for breath. My heart beat a strange rhythm, causing me pain. I guessed that it was because I hadn't had enough exercise recently. I walked slowly to the river, which I heard gurgling nearby. I sat there for a while, wondering if my parents would still be living in the same house. I wouldn't blame them if they left. I was locked away from them, in arms reach, but blocked off. I could go to my grandparent's if that was the case. I caught my breath, and felt my heart return to its normal beat, then got up and walked along the river, against the current, towards home.

For the next few nights I was jumpy, wondering if they were after me. But I eventually calmed down, and concentrated on moving and not making obvious tracks. At first, I had next to no stamina. I would have to take a break from walking every few hours. But I slowly and steadily built it up, until I was walking without a break for about five hours. I scavenged food from the woods, so that the food in my bag could be saved for when there was nothing else. The survival book was incredibly handy. It showed you how to make a shelter, haw to keep away from dangerous animals and what food was good and what was poisonous. I checked the map, the next day I should reach the edge of the woods. Then it was only a day's walk to home. I settled down to sleep, trying not to think of what I'd find.

I navigated around the familiar roads, and saw the house. My old house. The car was gone, so I looked in the garden. Most of the stuff I remembered was missing. I pushed down my fear. It might still be them, and if it isn't I can go to Granma and Granda's. I assured myself. I waited until later that evening, and saw a car drive in. It could have been our car, I couldn't remember it well. I watched as the people got out. From the back, the man looked like my dad, but as he turned, it was obvious he wasn't. The woman was totally different too, and they had two kids. I thought it wouldn't hurt, but it did. It hurt a lot. I curled up under the hedge at the end of the road, I'd head over to my grandparent's tomorrow, I'd be fine by then.

It took me three hours to walk to their house; it would've taken thirty minutes in the car. I was feeling tired and light headed, I wasn't sleeping well. Though I felt fine in the woodland, I found it exhausting to do anything here, in the city. I walked up to the door and knocked. I waited for my Gran to hobble up and let me in.
She didn't.
A young woman, only in her twenties, opened it. "Can I help you?" She asked frostily.
I blinked, I couldn't believe it. This was my grandparent's house. They wouldn't move. I tried to hold back tears. "Sorry." I whispered. "Err... An elderly couple used to live here; do you know where they've gone?"
"No, and I wouldn't tell a brat like you anyway." The woman sniffed, shutting the door aggressively.
I flinched, tears running tracks down my face. I wandered off; dazed by the realisation that I had nowhere to go, that my family had abandoned me. I didn't see where I was walking, a horn broke my trance. I felt a huge stabbing pain, and fell unconscious.

Two people in pristine lab coats stood over the girl, soon to be a young woman. They looked at her critically, assessing her.
The man spoke first. "Hmm. Looks like Number 45 managed to conquer the effects."
"Indeed." The woman agreed. "We will need to find out how she escaped the hallucination."
"It seems she's awakening." The man's voice held no warmth as he spoke. "Get her up and dressed, I will speak with her in no more than thirty minutes."
The girl, dubbed 45, was in the room within fifteen. She was confused and fearful, flinching away from any sort of contact. "W-what happened to me? Where am I?" She eventually asked.
"You are at a testing facility." The man stated. "I am Dr. Roberts, and she is Dr. Geld." He motioned towards the woman. "We have been testing a drug that induces hallucinations, ones that will go on for at least five years. You, however, managed to break through in just under three." He looked at the girl with interest. "How did you break it?"
"Sorry. I don't know what you mean." She whispered apprehensively.
"What happened right before you woke up?" Dr. Roberts pressed.
"I... Err... I think I got hit by a car..."
"It seems Death in the Hallucination will end it." Dr. Geld hypothesised.
"It's possible. We shall confirm it with the other subjects." Dr. Roberts agreed. "Take her to be examined." He waved his hand at the two, and the girl was removed. He opened his folder, and selected the correct records. He noted down what had been found from the particular trial, then replaced the first of the two. The second he flicked through quickly, checking for abnormalities.
There were none.
Number 45's file was deposited in the 'OUT' tray, while he looked through the list of new subjects for her replacement.