Side Effects

29 - The Book

"What the...?"

Bree was rudely awoken by the sounds of gunfire. The revolution had started again in early hours. Heavily, she opened her eyes to the darkness outside, and resorted to sleep again. However, she was shaken awake again. It didn't take too soon for her to notice who it was.

"...Mum?"
"Listen, Bree, I have something for you, but you have to keep it safe, do you hear me? Keep it with you at all times." Her guardian handed her a short, black book, and Bree clenched it to her chest, still half-asleep. The book was satisfyingly hardback, and encased in leather. Bree dropped off again, her head resting to her left.

Donnamira glanced for a moment. On the other end of the room, Barnabus laid in a body bag, lifelessly. She nodded her head at him in respect, and then turned her attention back to a sleeping Bree.
"I have to go now, Bree. I have to go. I'll be back before you know it, okay?"

Bree breathed heavily in response. A tear fell from Donnamira's eye. So much had happened, and it was all her fault. Her daughter didn't deserve to be injured this way.
"Remember to look after the book. I love you."

Waking up enclosed inside a green sheet, Bree regained consciousness and teared the suffocating sheet from her face, gasping for cold, cold breath. In her hand, she held a small, rectangular object. It confirmed to her that the short event of last night had not been a dream. Curious to why it was so important, Bree began to open it's pages. Before she could start reading, however, she noticed that the atmosphere around her was eerily silent.

She scanned the room for a sign of life, reserving the windows for later. Nothing seemed to have changed. She looked to her last resort, outside the window, but she was too far from it to see what was occurring below. Sat up in a sleeping bag on the floor, she reminded herself that she would not be able to walk there. She would not have been able to walk again. It was a reminder that tediously entered her brain whenever she wished to do something.

That's when she realised what really had changed. The room was entirely empty of people. Previously, injured rebels healed inside this room, with the help of an incredibly talented doctor. Even he was missing. In fact, the only sign of people in this room were all dead, cast under sheets to stop their rotting flesh from being visible. Bree was completely alone in a room full of the dead.

She recognised a tall item beside her, looking down on her impatiently. A black wheelchair, equipped with weapons. It was specially put together by one of the other patients in the clinic, who had no further use for their guns as they retired from the revolution. Bree had thanked her for adding them to her new wheelchair.

It brought notice back to Bree that she had not yet sat on this wheelchair. She had not been so willing to for obvious reasons. She was scared of it - it would effect her life forever.

Swivelling to face it, Bree took a breath, gazing up at the challenge. She moved the bandaged stumps out of the sheet and swirled them beneath her, kneeling. She crawled in front of the wheelchair, her back against the foot-rests she couldn't use. Grabbing onto the sides of the chair, she pulled herself up, immediately slipping to her knees again. She had accidentally tried to stand on her stump. Taking another few breaths, she tried again, but still to no avail. She couldn't handle her own weight like everyone else could. Barnabus had carried her with ease, but now she was struggling with how heavy she thought she was, her weak arms shaking each time she tried again.

The final time she attempted, she pulled herself up, landed on her stump again, but fought through the pain. Letting herself go to release the strain, Bree sat back in the chair she would be bound in for the rest of her life. The seat was uncomfortable and seemed too thin to carry a human, but it was sturdy enough that it kept her upright. The arm rests were actually comfier, covered in a pillow-like material.

Her hands still shaking nervously, she touched the wheels for the first time, knowing it would take some getting used to. Her palms laid flat on the wheel, so her first attempt at pushing forward came to nothing. Closing her eyes, she wrapped her hands around the rough wheels, and pushed. She moved forwards a little. Bree took in the moment. She wished Donnamira was there to see it.

Thinking of which, the world outside still fell silent despite the gunfire in the early morning. Bree's heart murmured, fearing the worst. The only way to discover what happened was to push herself towards the window. She shoved one wheel to angle herself, and continued forward with both black wheels spinning anxiously.

Bree jolted before the window, grasping the wheels to stop herself.

She witnessed the barricade below. It was completely abandoned.