A Deeper Love Inside Read Online Free PDF

me in the first place.
    “Lay down,” he ordered again.
    When he said, “Done,” he dragged his hand down my body and touched lightly the front of my panties, like light enough to pretend he didn’t do it. I peed. Even when I squeezed my legs together my warm piss wouldn’t stop gushing out. It was the only warmth I felt in a room so cold my piss should of turned into piss sickles.
    “You should have saved that for my cup,” the doctor said now holding a small plastic container in his right hand. Now that he wanted pee from me, none would come out. What had already come was leaking from the metal table to the floor.
    In a washroom big as the living room in the projects, on a cold floor that could’ve been made of ice blocks, one guard blast-showered me with cold water. My lips trembled.
    “Pick ’em up,” she told me.
    She pulled a plastic bag out of her back pocket. I dropped my piss panties, the last item that actually belonged to me, inside of her plastic bag. She put a tie on it and tossed it.
    “Get dressed,” she ordered, offering me no towel to dry my drenched skin.
    “From now on, walk on the right side of the line,” she ordered. Her voice echoed in the dark hallway. Her shoes clicked out forty-three steps. She stopped walking and clicking. Then she aimed her high-powered flashlight at my feet. My damp paper shoes were no protection against the frozen floor.
    “Bed number thirty-four,” she said swiftly swiping her bright beam of light only one time.
    I looked but couldn’t catch sight of anything in that one second. She killed the light. I knew she was trying to slowly fill me with panic and fear.
    “Move!” she shouted while sounding like she was acting like she was whispering.
    Probably if she wasn’t pretending to whisper, her real voice would shake the walls. I took my first step at the first crack of her voice raising up again.
    “Keep your hands and feet to yourself,” she said forcefully. “Or else we’ll lock you up in the basement by yourself.”
    I could hear her hard shoes banging on the ice floor as she walked away. I squinted looking into the blackness in front of me. I could hear breathing but couldn’t see much of nothing, just piles of bodies beneath blankets, one thin blanket on each bed. Some had their blanket sloppy. Some were wrapped tight like mummies in a horror film.
    Up close, I saw one arm dangling from beneath the blanket. It looked creepy.
    Swiftly, I looked back when I realized the guard’s shoe sounds stopped clicking and banging. A door slam shut. Not like a door in my Long Island house. It was the sound of a door made of steel so heavy that it couldn’t ever be opened without a bulldozer. The guard left mewith lights out. She wanted me to walk to bed number thirty-four in the dark-dark. She wanted me to feel certain that she and anybody dressed in the same uniform as her didn’t give a fuck about me. I felt it. I knew it. I would remember it, always.
    Music. I was recasting Michael Jackson’s Thriller video in my mind. I didn’t need no monsters or masks, werewolfs or vampires. The people in here were scary enough. The bodies lying around, beneath blankets was like a graveyard scene. I was Michael Jackson, not the frightened girl in the video. I slid out of those worthless paper shoes and started dancing my walk through the huge black room. My limbs were fluid like Michael’s. My movements were bold like Brooklyn, musical and unafraid. My heart was banging out the fast bass beats of the Thriller song.
    As I danced, my body began to heat up. Even the soles of my feet became warm. I was up and down the rows comfortably now, even in the darkness. No one could see me or stop me. My dancing made my anger more powerful than my fears. My body began to sweat. Caught up in my movements I lost track of where I had been standing in the first place and which direction the flashlight had pointed towards to get to my bed.
    As my chest heaved in and out and my heart