Day 34: Women's Showers
[tl;dr]
Renamon was resolute in maintaining an aura of unemotional professionalism after last shift. She wasn’t going to allow herself to be affected by anything here--at least, not until she could analyze them. Lost in thought, she followed the nurse leading her without paying much attention to her surroundings. It wasn’t until she realized they were moving through the Sun Room that she spoke up.
“If possible, I’d like to stay in the Sun Room again. I’m still feeling worn out.” Her speech was clipped and polite. Hopefully the nurse would allow her to do-so again--she had to meet another this afternoon.
The nurse was cheerful, replying reassuringly, “Oh, that’s fine dear. You can come back here right after your shower.”
Renamon took a moment. Shower. She filtered through her knowledge of human speech for an exact definition for the word. Once she found it, her eyes widened and she missed a step. She instantly calmed herself, and spoke as if everything were fine. “Would it be possible to pass? I’m not quite sure it’d be…” She couldn’t think of an excuse. Starting to panic, she clutched the short sleeves of her shirt, wishing for the sweatshirt she mistakenly passed on. Why hadn’t she kept it on?! Her voice had turned soft and pleading. “Could I not? Please.”
The nurse went over Renamon’s strange reaction. “Dear, it’ll be fine! You must want to get cleaned up--you’ve been here a few days already.” The woman kept walking, turning her head back to smile at Renamon. “I’m afraid the doctor made it clear that all patients must participate.”
Renamon’s eyes darted to either side, eying the room. Orderlies were seen by the doorways, and she had seen several patients be sedated at mealtimes. She wasn’t willing to risk losing her mental agility and alertness for a doomed from the start escape attempt. And over such a ridiculous thing too. She trailed after her nurse silently, for all purposes seeming like someone being led to hang.
She froze in the changing room, and had to be coaxed by her nurse to slip out of her clothes, and then into the shower room, where the nurse turned on the spray. Renamon had long fallen back into the “catatonia” the first nurse she had come into contact with had whispered about, non-responsive and sluggish. In actuality, Renamon was in a forced meditation, the only thing keeping her calm at the thought of no fur covering her, nothing covering her, nothing protecting her, she was naked, skinned! Muscles and flesh revealing the delicate organs beneath for any predator to rip and tear out; her outsides torn off by ones who only wished her harm, trying to reach at her insides, her core, her soul. Did she have a soul? Was she just data? Is she was just data, then this wouldn’t bother her. She wouldn’t care. Did this prove she was real? Her arm brushed her bare side and she jumped sideways, cracking into the wall and sliding down. She stayed sitting, slumped on the floor, letting the water hit her in the face as she stared at nothing. The heightened sensations were numbing her, leaving her skin tingling from the extra sensitivity. Everything was felt in explicit details: where the spray was hitting her, where her side was going to be bruised, the re-opened cut on her shoulder, the hard floor underneath her, the weight of her hair pulling on her skull. This body wasn’t hers. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t real.
Maybe she didn’t want to be real, if this is what it was. Renamon raised her head to stare mournfully at her nurse, looking more like an animal then she had as a fox Digimon. Hand half raised to her mouth in a mix of surprise and shock, her nurse stared back for a moment. Renamon didn’t care enough at that point to control her expressions. Her eyes and face showed everything she was, and wasn’t, feeling for the first time. She sat there in the water, motionless, until her nurse saw fit to take her away.
[taken to here]
Renamon was resolute in maintaining an aura of unemotional professionalism after last shift. She wasn’t going to allow herself to be affected by anything here--at least, not until she could analyze them. Lost in thought, she followed the nurse leading her without paying much attention to her surroundings. It wasn’t until she realized they were moving through the Sun Room that she spoke up.
“If possible, I’d like to stay in the Sun Room again. I’m still feeling worn out.” Her speech was clipped and polite. Hopefully the nurse would allow her to do-so again--she had to meet another this afternoon.
The nurse was cheerful, replying reassuringly, “Oh, that’s fine dear. You can come back here right after your shower.”
Renamon took a moment. Shower. She filtered through her knowledge of human speech for an exact definition for the word. Once she found it, her eyes widened and she missed a step. She instantly calmed herself, and spoke as if everything were fine. “Would it be possible to pass? I’m not quite sure it’d be…” She couldn’t think of an excuse. Starting to panic, she clutched the short sleeves of her shirt, wishing for the sweatshirt she mistakenly passed on. Why hadn’t she kept it on?! Her voice had turned soft and pleading. “Could I not? Please.”
The nurse went over Renamon’s strange reaction. “Dear, it’ll be fine! You must want to get cleaned up--you’ve been here a few days already.” The woman kept walking, turning her head back to smile at Renamon. “I’m afraid the doctor made it clear that all patients must participate.”
Renamon’s eyes darted to either side, eying the room. Orderlies were seen by the doorways, and she had seen several patients be sedated at mealtimes. She wasn’t willing to risk losing her mental agility and alertness for a doomed from the start escape attempt. And over such a ridiculous thing too. She trailed after her nurse silently, for all purposes seeming like someone being led to hang.
She froze in the changing room, and had to be coaxed by her nurse to slip out of her clothes, and then into the shower room, where the nurse turned on the spray. Renamon had long fallen back into the “catatonia” the first nurse she had come into contact with had whispered about, non-responsive and sluggish. In actuality, Renamon was in a forced meditation, the only thing keeping her calm at the thought of no fur covering her, nothing covering her, nothing protecting her, she was naked, skinned! Muscles and flesh revealing the delicate organs beneath for any predator to rip and tear out; her outsides torn off by ones who only wished her harm, trying to reach at her insides, her core, her soul. Did she have a soul? Was she just data? Is she was just data, then this wouldn’t bother her. She wouldn’t care. Did this prove she was real? Her arm brushed her bare side and she jumped sideways, cracking into the wall and sliding down. She stayed sitting, slumped on the floor, letting the water hit her in the face as she stared at nothing. The heightened sensations were numbing her, leaving her skin tingling from the extra sensitivity. Everything was felt in explicit details: where the spray was hitting her, where her side was going to be bruised, the re-opened cut on her shoulder, the hard floor underneath her, the weight of her hair pulling on her skull. This body wasn’t hers. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t real.
Maybe she didn’t want to be real, if this is what it was. Renamon raised her head to stare mournfully at her nurse, looking more like an animal then she had as a fox Digimon. Hand half raised to her mouth in a mix of surprise and shock, her nurse stared back for a moment. Renamon didn’t care enough at that point to control her expressions. Her eyes and face showed everything she was, and wasn’t, feeling for the first time. She sat there in the water, motionless, until her nurse saw fit to take her away.
[taken to here]