The Dangerous Game Read Online Free PDF

provided an effective contrast to her tasteful elegance. As soon as the camera began clicking, something changed in her. She lit up from inside, glittering so brightly that sparks practically flew all around her, and the charm she radiated had a strong effect on the rest of the team. Everyone became even more meticulous and finicky about the details, even more anxious for the photos to be as good as possible. The hours flew by. They moved to other rooms, then went out into the forecourt. An old Opel from the fifties was driven into place and Jenny lovingly leaned against it.
    She willingly obeyed all the directions that Markus gave her.

THE DOOR OPENS and she hears the usual hearty voice say, ‘Good morning. Seven o’clock. Time to get up.’ Without looking at her, the nurse comes in, turns on the ceiling light, and opens the curtains. It’s still dark outside, but light shines in from the other buildings, reminding her that she’s in hospital, that she’s not well, that she is not part of normal life in the world. The buildings loom like ominous grey monsters outside her window. The hospital is so big that it even has its own street name in the neighbourhood.
    Agnes turns on to her other side. Away from the light, away from reality, evading all reminders that there’s a world out there, a life that’s continuing, a life that she could have been living, but it’s about to run away from her. At least that’s how it feels right now. Even though she’s only sixteen.
    This is the worst part of the day. Waking up. All she wants is to stay asleep and not have to wake up to yet another hell. The battle to eat as little as possible and to get rid of as much energy as she can, without the nurses noticing.
    She doesn’t know how long she’ll be able to keep doing this.
    Agnes wishes that she could stay in bed under the covers, yet she’s painfully aware that she needs to hurry and get up in order to jump at least thirty times in the bathroom before breakfast. Otherwise, it will be unbearable to force down enough yoghurt and toast to satisfy the nurse.
    For a moment she wrestles with the dilemma, and then, with a great effort, she sits up and gets out of bed. She sticks her feet in the fleece slippers and casts a glance at her room mate, Linda, who is lying in bed with her back turned. She never says much. Agnes goes out to the corridor and into the bathroom. So far, she’s still one of the lucky few who are allowed to close and lock the door when using the toilet. For some inexplicable reason, they still trust her, even though they think it’s taking a long time for her to gain any weight. They don’t seem to have worked out what she’s been doing.
     
    The bathroom is cramped, with only enough space for a toilet in front of a small sink. There is no window or mirror. After she finishes peeing and washing her hands, she gets started. It’s not easy with so little space. She can’t do her arm exercises in here; that has to wait until the afternoon in the warm room. Here she can only bounce up and down. She pushes off with both feet, jumping straight up, as high as she can manage. After only a few jumps she’s out of breath. Her heart is hammering in her chest as if protesting such rough treatment. Her legs ache; they’re fragile after such a long period of malnutrition. Agnes grits her teeth and keeps counting, whispering the numbers to herself: ‘Ten, eleven, twelve.’ The whole time she’s scared that a nurse might knock on the door. If she’s forced to interrupt her exercise, it won’t have the same effect, even if she continues later on. She needs to jump at least thirty times in a row, otherwise she’ll be lost.
    Soon, she’s sweating profusely and breathing even harder. She perseveres, fighting so much to keep going that she tastes blood in her mouth. They say that she’s emaciated, that she’ll die if she doesn’t put on weight. Right now, she has no idea how much she weighs, because that’s not