I had to be dreaming still. That was the only way that any of this could make sense. A tablet speaking wasn't too hard to understand but a ceiling? There's no way that any of this was real.

"Where... who... why..." I trailed off, mind buzzing with so many questions I couldn't decide which was the most important to ask. Why hadn't I prepared questions ahead of time? Why was I caught off guard in this most crucial of moments? Think, Aura, think. What should I even ask?

Before I even had the chance of opening my mouth again, the ceiling whirred, as if a giant fan was hidden somewhere above it. "There has been a mishap with your treatment," it said.

What treatment? I stared blankly at the ceiling as if the answers to all of the questions I had were somehow written there. As if staring would somehow bring me closer to the truth.

"Our records indicate that you may benefit from additional support and resources."

Even though I understood the words, they still somehow sounded garbled to me. A strong sense of uneasiness was building within me — filling me with the urge to run far away.

"No," I managed to squeak out. Whatever the voice meant by additional support and resources couldn't be anything good. If it was more of the confusion that plagued this place, I didn't want it.

The noise that came next sounded almost like laughter, but it was hard to tell. Could a machine even laugh? Or was there a human speaking behind a highly computerized filter?

The only thing I was sure of was that this entire situation was making me uncomfortable. The quick disappearance of all the trash... the seashells... the fact that this room was so easy to find. Easier than I expected it would be. It was all deliberate. Someone was trying to mess with me.

"You came here yourself, Aura. You asked us for our help, and you will receive it."

"No," I repeated. I wasn't sure where this defiance would lead me but I wanted my voice to be heard. Whoever was on the other side had to know that I wasn't okay with this anymore. Even if consent was given, it could still be retracted. I did not consent to this anymore, whatever this was.

"We have to intervene before your memories threaten your mental wellbeing again."

"No," I yelled. Why were my memories posed as the problem? What were they doing to me here? Why weren't they the problem? Why couldn't they see they were responsible for all of this?

"We've been here once before, Aura. You've already forgotten but we haven't."

"That... can't be true..."

Or could it? Had I been here once before? Have I forgotten? What use is there in resisting if they can just steal my memories over and over again? How would I get myself out of this?

"But we will make sure this doesn't happen a second time. We won't be as gentle next time."

I sat up and hugged my knees, rocking back and forth. Was that... a threat? Was I being threatened? Maybe I should stop resisting and let them have their way with me for once.

But what kind of life would that be? Who would they try to turn me into?

Was life really worth it if I was just going to be stuck here forever?

"I'd rather die than stay here a minute longer," I muttered under my breath.

Red lights filled the room temporarily and I started to wonder if I said the wrong thing.

"We have dispatched someone to your location. Please do not panic. This is not a drill."

Telling someone not to panic was a surefire way of getting them to panic. Especially when it came from a voice that sounded like an evil robot hellbent on taking over the world. Dispatch someone? To this room? And then what? I refused to think about it and glared at the ceiling.

"Fuck you," I shouted, as if it would help my situation in the slightest.

The ceiling began to dim — like the tablet did when it was turning off.

"Wait!" I shouted, trying to stop it from going away, but the light faded as quickly as it had begun to flash. I was alone again. Or at least I was foolish enough to think I was alone.

The last thing I saw before I lost my vision again was the door bursting open and people rushing inside. Just like the other times, a bag was placed over my head and I was dragged.

Even the thought of the ocean couldn't calm me down enough this time.

▬▬▬

I was back in the white room, waiting for what I could only assume was my execution. If I was doing so poorly with my treatment, what use was there in keeping me alive?

Then again, why would they wait so long to kill me? Why wouldn't they do it sooner?

It felt like there were pieces of the puzzle I was missing. None of this made any sense. Why would I have admitted myself here? What was I trying to hide or run away from?

And what did the voice mean by saying this happened before? Was I stuck in a loop of remembering and forgetting? Was I doomed to repeat these encounters over and over again?

I lay in the bed and closed my eyes, begging sleep to take me away. Maybe if I slept for a while, I could escape the horrors of being awake and whatever could follow me next. I wasn't ready.

All I had were questions and no answers.

The only thing I learned from exploring was how utterly alone I was. I felt so helpless. Before, it at least felt like I was doing something to free myself, but in reality, I was just a pawn to them.

What treatment? What were they trying to do to me? What was really going on here?

My mind turned to mush from all the thinking and I felt the edges of sleep starting to chip away at me. I welcomed it with open arms, hoping that finally, it would help me escape.

But the thing about sleep is that... no matter how good it feels, you always wake up.

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