The following morning I wake up with my alarm and I'm exhausted. Grogginess overtakes me but I know that I need to get up. I know that I need to keep going. I know that I need to make Lydia believe that I was not up all night talking. We all do. 

And so I wash my face with expensive cleanser and I put makeup on and I pick out a pretty outfit as carefully matched as all my other outfits used to be. And I go down the too-large halls to the cafeteria. And I chat with Valentina and Labonita. 

We do not talk about last night. For everything that happened last night is a secret, and we cannot risk any chance of being found out. We carefully converse about conversation topics that are normal, petty, shallow. Things that will not get us or anyone else in trouble. 

All around me at all the tables the girls eat their breakfast without complaint. And the breakfast feels too full to me, too loaded. The flavours feel too strong, the textures too varied. But I eat without complaint as well. Because I have to. Because it's the only choice I have in this facility where we all are being kept locked up.

Lydia comes into the room at the same time that she always does. She is wearing something stunningly gorgeous, as she always is. It's pale green. I don't notice it that much as I smile towards her cheery face and chirp a hello that rings hollow in my own heart. 

I'm afraid of her. I've never been so afraid of her before. But no, that's not true. I think back towards the three days of hedonism my friends and I partook in. I was still scared of her then. I think that we were all scared of her. I just did not realize it. I repressed it. 

I hope she cannot see the fear behind my eyes. Fear that I am trying so suffocatingly hard to hide. I think I am a good actor. I've had to be, in order to get through my school life and my home life and everything between those two things. I hope I'm good enough for this moment, the moment in which it all really, truly matters. 

"Hello, my sweet girls!" Her voice is bright and cheerful. But there is a slight, subtle edge to it. An edge that is oppressive and threatening. Was it always there, did I just miss noticing it before now? Or is this a new development? Is she on to us?

"Hello, Lydia," we echo back all together in a messy unison. Our voices sound almost normal. Almost. There is just the slightest, tiniest bit of difference. I hope that the difference is too small for her to be able to notice it. I hope she doesn't think too deeply about the way we sound. I hope she doesn't notice anything amiss. 

"Are you all excited to begin your day?" She smiles. And there is something just subtly, just deeply unsettling about that smile. I pay close attention to it. Though I know that there isn't any point. If she's on to us, she's on to us. We are powerless. There is nothing we can do. 

But I look over at Clara. And she smiles at me, a shimmering orange lipgloss smile. But behind that smile there is something understanding. There is something heartbroken. There is something tragic. There is something kind. I smile at her back. 

And in that moment I know. 

We are not powerless. Not really. We have each other. And we have the strength within our own souls. The strength that has gotten all of us this far. Strength that has taken us into cold streets, into thick forests, strength that has taken us into suicide attempts. Strength that has made us into who we are. And that will shape us beyond that, shape us further. 

"I am sorry, girls, but today we cannot go on any fun adventures."

We all voice our loud dismay and disapproval. Our fake dismay and disapproval. It is what we are expected to do, so it is what we do. 

"I'm sorry. But it's just one day. And it will help you in your journeys to heal and grow and to become functioning members of society. Is that okay, my girls?"

"Okay," we relent unenthusiasticly. The fear inside my chest is growing. Why are we not going to do the normal routine? What are we going to do instead? Why? 

"Today you will all have a long session with your personal doctors. Answering questions and the like. Your progress will be charted and any changes necessary to your recovery plan will be made. After that, you will have another session of mind healing. You will be put to sleep and your brains will be injected with the chemicals necessary to help them heal and flourish."

"Okay Lydia," we chorus back. The fear has a hard, icy grip on my heart now. Another mind-healing session? Another session where we get our minds bored into and altered? That is not okay. That will end any and all chances we have of reaching freedom. I remember what the last session did to me. I remember all that it made me forget, all that it made me deny. 

I flit my eyes around, and on everyone's face I can see the faintest traces of fear. Fear that shows through even the tiniest cracks in their masks. This is no is okay. This is not okay. This is very much not okay. 

"You have a few hours before the doctors will come in for your sessions though. In that time you can spend your time however you want."

We go back to eating our breakfast, thinking of how to get out of this all. 

"Let's go to the hot tub after we're finished breakfast," Delores calls out loudly. 

"That's the perfect idea!" Zindagee declares. And it is the perfect idea. It really is. Because we can all sit close together in the hot tub, in the relative privacy of the room where no-one will bother us. 

We all voice our agreement to the plan, and quickly go to get our bathing suits on. I wear the first one I can find and rush to the hot tub. 

[scene continued in next part]