Redeeming Logan

Chapter Ten

Taliah

I t’s like he can see right through me. He knows my deepest, darkest secret that I’ve tried so hard to keep hidden. He picked up on it so easily with just one look into my eyes. It makes my insides quake and my hands sweat with how easily he was able to dig that up. If he can find that with just one look, I wonder what else he can find? What else can he pull up to the surface? Forcing me to confront it.

Wringing my sweaty hands together, I pace my room. Silence echoes through the room, the plush carpet eating up the sounds of my footsteps. The room grows darker as the sun sets behind the trees surrounding the facility. A sharp knock at the steel door to my room makes me nearly jump out of my skin. A clang and a scrape sound from the door as the little door in it opens. The light shining through the room illuminates me in a small spotlight.

Tentatively, I walk towards the door and peer through the little glass window, making eye contact with Dr. Logan. His face is a blank mask, a contrast to the smirking one he had a while ago on the TV. It makes my insides crawl with how quick he can switch it all off. With a slight clunk, he slides a metal tray of food through the bean hole. Snatching it quickly from his grip, making the cup of water slosh over the sides, spilling onto the tray beneath. Taking one last look at me, he slams the little door flap shut and walks off down the hall, leaving me in the darkness wondering what I did for him to switch his attitude so intensely.

Flipping the light switch on by the door, the room brightens, making me squint from the harsh light. Trudging over to the small desk, I set the tray on top of it, pulling out the wooden chair, and taking a seat. I roll my eyes at the measly food selection sitting before me. A cold turkey and cheese sandwich, chips, and an apple that looks like it will rot any day now. Heaving a sigh I dig into the food anyway; at least it’s better than what I usually get to eat. Well, when I got to eat, period actually. This is way more than what my own parents would have given me.

Picking up the sandwich, I inspect it, peeking under the bread to find a mayo-looking substance. I pick up a few of the salty chips and add it to the sandwich, squishing it down and melding it all together. Taking a bite of the sandwich, my teeth sink into the soft bread. Although the sandwich looks bland, the mayo and chips give it a flavorful taste, making a small moan slip from my lips. Stomach rumbling with appreciation of the meal, I devoured the sandwich in record time. Downing the cup of water next, I snag the apple from the tray, scooting the chair back, and making my way over the book shelf.

My fingers brush the spines of the books. Some are old and bound with leather and fabric; others are shiny and brand new. Stopping on the thickest book on the shelves, I tug it free from the stack. Little Bird Lost By Jessie Walker stares back at me. The cover is the most beautiful one I've ever seen. A woman is free falling in the center with features and music sheets scattered around her. Flipping it open, I scan through the pages admiring the exquisite formatting, like nothing I’ve ever seen before, laid out almost like a music composition.

Carrying the thick book and apple over to the window seat, I settle down in the pillows, tossing the throw blanket over my lap. I immerse myself in the book for hours until the sun starts peeking over the top of the trees. It’s then that I realize that I can almost relate to Isobel. Being trapped in this room, not wondering if I will ever be able to leave. Trapped like a bird in a cage. Maybe I am Dr. Logan’s long-lost Firebird . Closing the book, I set it gently on the window seat and toss my half-eaten apple in the trash.

Making my way to the closet, I choose some black silky pajama shorts and a tank top. Quickly changing into it, I relish the feel of the soft fabric against my skin. I’ve never worn anything this nice before. Always wearing hand me downs from the thrift shop or from Sarah. At least when I got them from Sarah, I knew exactly where they came from. But this pajama set definitely came from an expensive shop. I make my way to my bed and climb under the cozy soft covers. Surrounded by the fluffy down comforter and pillows, I let the sounds of the wind blowing through the trees outside lull me to sleep.