Day 61 of The Experiment:
They've been keeping me in and out of isolation--a week on, a week off. When I'm allowed to see other human beings they place me, handcuffed, at a table with other men dressed in white jumpsuits, like me. We are allowed to talk to each other, but not touch. There is always an orderly nearby listening to our conversation and once, when a gentleman commented on our current condition, he was promptly removed and never seen again. We keep talk to a light chit-chat.
I've only seen other men in here, so I'm not sure if The Experiment is being conducted on women at all. We're told the research conducted here will change humanity forever, and that at the end we will be compensated handsomely, but I'm starting to think no amount of money is worth this torture.
We are allowed 2 minutes in the bathroom three times a day, with an orderly standing outside the door which had been outfitted with a portal for total lack of privacy. This means after 61 days, I haven't been able to touch myself in any way sexual. At night, we are given eight hours of sleep, but a camera is observing us the whole night. Still, I've had wet dreams, my body trying desperately to express its inner desire.
Today, however, is different. They are currently moving me into a new isolation facility. The door opens and I'm ushered into a white room, 8x8", slightly padded walls and floor, with no windows, just a vent for climate control up on the ceiling next to a light illuminating the space. The only plus side to being in isolation is that I'm not cuffed. I take the opportunity to move my body a little bit: some pushups, crunches, high knees...anything to get the blood moving and even a little sweat.
After about 30 minutes, I'm startled by the door being opened. My body clock knows this isn't a meal time or bathroom break, so it feels...abnormal. The orderlies stay outside but in walks another human, in a white jumpsuit like me. A woman! Or, a girl? It's hard to tell her age, her head held heavy with a fell of brown hair covering her face. She's petite, slender, with soft pale skin from what I can see of her hands. Her hands--I'd guess she's around 20 from her hands and how she moves. I'm sitting, back against the fall wall as she enters the room. The orderlies remove her cuffs and she slumps down the wall to my left. The door closes and there is silence.
After a moment of disbelief, I look to the door to see if they reenter, realizing their mistake. They obviously didn't see me in here already and meant to put her in an unoccupied room. But the orderlies don't make mistakes. My heart skips a beat as I realize this is the first time I've been in the presence of a woman in months. She's not looking up, and I don't know if I should speak. Or if she even speaks English.
Just as I'm working up the courage to say something, she lifts her head, her hair still in her eyes. With her right hand, she moves some hair out of her face to look at me.
We both glance at each other, unsure of what the other sees. There are no mirrors here. I have a weak beard growing on face, my hair getting shaggy, though clean. Her hair falls straight. Her eyes are a pale blue, her nose small, mouth and lips full. Though her frame is small, I can see breasts pushing out from beneath her jumpsuit. But I catch myself staring and quickly move my eyes away.
We lock eyes and as if a light switch turns on, I realize something I feel foolish to have missed.
"Becca?"
"Hi, Issac." She said, having realized at the same time she wasn't looking at a stranger.
"I--I can't believe I didn't recognize you immediately. I'm sorry."
"It's ok. I didn't recognize you either. This place is...not natural."
"No, it's not."
There was a heavy pause in the air.
Of all the people they could have put me in a cell with, it was my sister. My father remarried when I was ten, and along with a step mother I got a new sister, about seven years younger. Rebecca. Despite our age difference, we got a long pretty well, and while I haven't spent too much extended time with Becca since going to college, we've always felt close. After her freshman year of college, I noticed more confidence in Becca and began, to my dismay, to see her differently. I couldn't help but notice her as a woman and have spent many hours angsting about how to cope with feelings I wished would go away. She was beautiful, smart, charming, grounded, and confident.
Here she was, stuck in a tiny room with her brother for The Experiment. I wondered if they knew we were related and if that's why they put us together. Maybe they were trying to challenge how well siblings could get along if they had literally nothing else to do but be around each other. Would one wind up dead? Would they keep each other sane? Were they putting biological siblings together, or just step? Or both? My mind raced.
"Becca, have you..." I had so many questions but couldn't decide on one. I glanced around the room, checking the ceiling, walls, door...but there were no cameras and no orderlies watching on. I scampered to the door and put my ear against it. Nothing.
"Are we alone?" I asked aloud.
"I don't know. They haven't had an eye off me in a month so...I doubt it." Becca was scanning for anything that might be used to look into the room, but found nothing. "But maybe we are."
"Can we just...I don't want to get kicked out of the room by breaking any rules here but can we try touching hands for a second? To see if we get a reaction from the LabCoats?" I asked, nervous about touching another human being for the first time in 61 days, but dying for human connection, for a fucking hug.
Becca stuck her hand out and I slowly reached towards hers. We touched pointer fingers and waited. Still nothing. I held her hand. Nothing. We waiting for minutes that felt like hours to be swept out of the room for breaking an unspoken rule. Nothing.
We looked at each other, finally letting ourselves breath a sigh of relief, and we began to laugh, smile even and we finally embraced in a hug.
I started to weep, unable to put to words what it's like to touch another human being after being starved for 61 days of such a simple connection. I could feel Becca weeping too, her hands grabbing my jumpsuit as she buried her head in my shoulder.
"This place is so awful." She cried.
"I know, Bec. But we're gonna survive it." I choked out.
We pulled out of the embrace and looked at each other, each a mess of tears.
"I'm just so glad to see you." I said, trying not to cry more.
"Me too." She replied quietly.
I eased myself to the floor and laid on my back, finally feeling a little relief that I wasn't alone and wasn't being watched by a stranger. I felt free for a moment before the 8x8" white room grappled my mind once again.
"You have a...beard?" Becca said, unsure of whether what I had on my face qualified as a beard. She laughed a bit.
"Yeah, it's sad but it's mine. I call him Thornton."
Becca laughed at this. The sound was like music to my ears.
"Thornton? Ok, Issac. Ridiculous as ever." She teased.
"Just be glad you don't have facial hair that you can't cut."
"They haven't been giving you a razor? Bummer."
"What the hell? You get to shave?" I asked in disbelief.
"Yup. I just asked for a razor...didn't you?"
"No." I said, realizing I never even tried, assuming they'd say no.
"Come on, Issac. I know The Experiment is intense, but they at least have basic toiletries and grooming." She said, laughing at me a little.
"I feel stupid. Ok, I'll ask next time I get a shower."
We spent the next two hours catching up about life before The Experiment. She filled me in on college where she'd be a senior next year, friends, relationships. I didn't realized how much I'd missed while trying to distance myself from Becca and my confusing feelings about her. I told her about work, my failed engagement, my disdain for dating, and things I was excited to enjoy in the future, hoping to put any money earned in The Experiment towards my future plans.
The door opened, surprising us both. "Shower time." The orderly said. I got up and as I was leaving remembered, "Oh, wait. Any chance I could have a razor and some shaving cream?" I asked. "Sure, he replied." I couldn't believe how easy it was. We were each ushered off to our own showers and I was hit by a pang of fear that I wouldn't see Becca again. What if this was some cruel test to see how we react to a few hours of interaction with a loved one, then nothing. And nothing. And nothing. I tried not to panic. As I opened the door to the shower, a razor and cream were waiting along with soap, shampoo, toothbrush, and toothpaste. Over my shoulder, I could see I was being watched, but couldn't help but smile a little.
I turned on the water and soaped up my body, feeling every inch of myself and trying to remember who I was in the real world. I thought of touching Becca, another human, for the first time and began to get hot. I shoved the thought away, not wanting to been seen by my attendant in a state of arousal, turned the water to cold, and got myself out of the haze. After showering, I finally said goodbye to Thornton, carefully trying not to cut my face without a mirror. I felt my clean-shaven face and sensed a little part of me was back.
I dried off, got into a fresh jumpsuit and was led back to the cell. It was the same cell but empty. No Becca. My heart sank. I didn't even get to say goodbye. This was it. The Experiment. It was psychological torture. So cruel. I slumped to the floor and pounded my fists against the floor. "This is what you want to see, right? Suffering? Solitude?!" I shouted to no one.
The door opened and there was an orderly. I knew I was going to be put somewhere else for my outburst. In a desperate bid to stay, I began to apologize. "I didn't mean it, I'm sorry. I'll keep quiet, just let me stay here for a few more..." But then, I saw someone else walk in behind him.
"Hey, Issac, I see you got your razor."
It was Becca. I shut my mouth and tried to keep cool until the orderly, with one last glance, closed the door behind us.
"Oh fuck, I thought I wasn't going to see you again. I was so fucking sad." I sighed, relieved.
"I was worried too. I guess you just got back faster than me. But...here we are." She said.
"Here we are."
I was so happy to see her. And my mind went racing. I thought about our situation. We were stuck in a room for god-knows how long. Just waiting. And all I wanted was to embrace her again. I craved more human contact. But I feared it, knowing that my body would most certainly react to being in contact with another.
"Becca, you're the only person I've had physical contact with in months." I said. Unsure what I was getting at.
"I've only been here for a month, but same. And it's driving me crazy. I didn't realize how much touch was tied to my fucking sanity."
