Blade

Pinkamena was lied down on a table. It was cold. She shivered when the metal came into contact with her soft skin. Two doctors went up to her and lifted her head. Under her, they placed the hardest pillow Pinkamena had ever rested on.

Shrinkerton looked over her with his unchanging monotonous look.

“Rest your head, Pinkamena.” He patiently instructed.

Pinkamena obeyed. Her father had said that this was going to get rid of the voice. He promised. She didn’t know what they were going to do next, but she was ready. She was almost wearing a smile.

The voice echoed inside of her.

“They don’t want to help, Pinkie.” It hissed. “They only want to hurt you. Trust me.”

Pinkie talked back to the voice for the first time since the river. “Go away!” She silently shouted. “Daddy promised that I’ll be better after this!”

A visible scowl was on her face. Shrinkerton took notice. Like most things, they were dealt with by being written down on his little notepad. Pinkamena wanted to see them, but she knew it was rude to ask.

“Alright, Pinkamena. I want you to listen very carefully.” Shrinkerton said. “When I say bite down, I want you to bite down as hard as you can, alright?”

Pinkamena’s head tilted in confusion. “What am I biting?” She asked innocently.

“This rubber fit, child.” He answered, bringing out a thick brown and rubber tool that was apparently designed to fit directly into her mouth.

He brought it forth and asked Pinkamena to open her mouth. Like before, she obeyed. He put the tool in her mouth and told her to hold it.

After that, the two other doctors took what looked like a pair of headphones and put them on Pinkamena’s head. She thought they looked silly. She wouldn’t have giggled had she known what they did. It didn’t matter either way. She would know soon enough.

Pinkamena’s father was waiting at a desk not too far from the table. Shrinkerton joined him and turned on a metal box that was waiting for him in the drawer. He plugged it into the equipment that was hooked to the headphones and put his hoof on a dial.

He looked at Pinkamena, still unchanging in emotion. “Alright, Pinkamena. Bite.”

Pinkamena bit down on the rubber tool, wondering how it would help her. Curious, she turned her head to her father and her psychiatrist.

“Wha Uz Iss Oo?” She mumbled through the rubber.

Shrinkerton didn’t respond verbally. He only glared at her indicating that she lie back down. Although feeling threatened, she obeyed like a good girl. She thought that maybe after she was cured, she would start doing better and maybe even someday pass the quota. That was a good thought. It was the last good thought she had for the next six days.

“This won’t hurt a bit, Pinkamena.” He promised.

Horror like razor blades sliced up her insides. Her heart sunk into a place she couldn’t reach into. What did that mean? Why did he say that?

Adults never said things like that unless it did indeed hurt. Most of the time, it hurt even worse. And Pinkamena was right. It was a lot worse.

The last thing she heard was Shrinkerton turning the dial under his hoof. The next thing she felt was the most horribly morbid pain her little body had ever experienced. It was beyond imagination. Pinkamena had never pictured pain like that. She never knew it could exist.

Nine hundred volts ran through her body and mind. The electricity caused her to violently convulse. She bit into the rubber, alright. She thought she would bite right through it in those abominable first seconds. Every muscle in her constrained and tightened randomly and painfully. She was about to let out a shriek, but was stopped by the two other doctors. They grabbed her jaw with rubber gloves on and forbade her screams of agony from escape. Her muffled horrors were barely heard, let alone noticed. Her very bones vibrated inside the flesh. She was miserable.

As if by miracle, it stopped. The two doctors let go of her. She lost control of her body and lay limp on the table. Shrinkerton looked at her and for the first time she had ever seen, he smiled.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

How could he say that? Had he ever been through it before? Why did he do that? How was he helping her?

Question after question flooded her small mind. She couldn’t do anything about anything anymore. So she did what all children do from time to time. She started crying. She cried on the table as she tried lifting her arm. She could not.

What Shrinkerton said next changed everything.

“Only a few more times, Pinkamena.”

Her eyes widened into the size of saucers. Horror rushed through her again. What she did then was acting on pure adrenaline. She turned onto her side and tried to scurry off the table of death. But the doctors were too quick. They hadn’t been stunted like she had. Not to mention, they were adults. Adults were always faster and stronger.

For the first time in her life, Pinkamena found herself struggling against a grown-up. Trying so very hard to get away. She didn’t care if the door was as far as she got, as long as she didn’t have to get back on that deathly table. She was able to get a single hoof loose, only to have it immediately grabbed again. The feeling of helplessness was unbearable. She shook her head fiercely and continued to cry and shout.

“No! NO! PLEASE! PLEASE! I DON’T WANT TO ANYMORE!!!” Her screams cried through the room. “DADDY! HELP ME! DADDY, PLEASE! PLEASE! I WANT TO GO HOME! I WANT T-“

Pinkamena was cut off by the rubber tool being forced back into her mouth. The other doctors held her down with their forearms as they reached for straps on the side of the table. They slung them over her chest and tightened them a little too tight for her to move.

The tool was still being kept in place by the forceful doctor above her. The other held her jaw shut. Her eyes flailed around the room like a fire. She was panicking. Nothing she could do. Desperation.

These grown-ups weren’t there to help. The voice was right. The vicious, evil, rotten voice was right.

All they had wanted to see was her pain and misery.

For the last couple of seconds, Pinkamena closed her eyes as tight as she possibly could and wished she were gone. She wished she was at home, playing with Ariel. She wished she was baking a pie with her Grandmother. She wished that she was warm in her bed, being told a happy bedtime story by her father just like when Ariel was alive.

Pinkamena learned the hard way that a thousand volts aren’t what make wishes come true.

Shrinkerton turned the dial again.

And again.

And again…