The Hospital: Day Twenty

Saturday, July 17

I wake sweaty and tired. I did not remember falling asleep. The men are all awake on their phones, laughing. They are talking about how I am a hit. During the night, they made a film about having sex with me. They posted the film to a website and were paid money for the number of hits it got. Disgusted, I go shower and discover that they have a hidden camera in the shower room. I know because I hear them talking about the video clip they got as I showered.

I adopt an I don’t care attitude; I do not look at them or their phones. I walk to my bed and count the numbers below the bar code on my soap wrapper. It is all I can do. I just want to go home.

I get a cup of water I save now on my chair on the far side of my bed, not my tray table, and I notice white drops splattered on my cart, the chair, and the side of my bed. I know what it looks like; I don’t say a thing. I walk over to the sink, get a wet paper towel, and go back to my bed and clean.

The rest of the day, the men are involved in having as much sex as possible with the people in Salon A, and with people online, it is like a vast pornography enterprise. They post videos and photos from the hospital and generate extortion money. The operators can access everyone’s WhatsApp information; that is how they knew so much about me and what I was doing. All information they spoke of was available on WhatsApp. So, anyone watching these videos is blackmailed into paying money to avoid exposure. Because these men participate voluntarily, they get cash directly deposited into their bank accounts.

Is it true, or is it just a hallucination? I know some of it must be true because I heard these things, and it was not nighttime, and I was not medicated. I did get a glimpse of my naked body showering on Torino’s phone as I walked by. I have no tangible proof.

The chatter I have ignored because my mind did not want to contemplate:

*Talk of impregnating me so I can give birth to an A.I. ¨baby¨. Refer back to the first night preview.

*I hear the chatter about how Nico, our driver, is a coyote, that he is illegal, and Daniel can get into legal trouble by association.

*I hear the chatter about setting my body on fire with gasoline because I was a Negrita bruha.

Since it was all meant to scare me and cause anxiety, I did my best to ignore it.

Observations: The oxygen is working now. The food is better. I witness a meal server crying in the hallway, and the attendant, No English, tries to calm her down. The shortages and the apparent degradation of the program were just another anxiety generator. Now, pornography is the topic.

The same two planes fly by the windows, the same sirens are heard, and objects are banging every day. I am not scared anymore of the program. I stayed calm to get released from the hospital with my mind intact.

9:00 pm. I do not take the medication. I pretend to put it in my mouth but let the pills fall down the front of my hospital gown. I then wait and dispose of them in the toilet. I stay awake by reading the bar code on my soap wrapper and using a wet paper towel to keep my face cool. When the cups of atole were served, the men laughed and said they hoped I enjoyed mine, that they had all contributed. I looked at the milky drink and thought it looked thicker than usual. I calmly walked over to the trash and threw it away.

An attendant named Luis collects the bio-hazard bags in the evening and at night. I had seen him in Salon Tara. I told him how he looked like my son. Now, he sees what is happening in Salon Bolio, and he glances at me and away rapidly. He looks worried. I hear him in the hallway, upset at what is happening to me, what he hears. The other attendants take him aside and tell him to do his job.

I stay awake until the morning nurses arrive.

Daniel´s notes:Lawyer SB:

7/17/21, 1:53 PM – D: Ok, Monday it is. I will call at 1:30pm. Thanks and have a good Saturday.

7/17/21, 1:54 PM – LawyerSB: You too my friend

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