Marigold by Heather Manheim (best books for 8th graders .TXT) 📕

small protest because she was feeling famished. Davis figured it would be unlikely to be killed through poisoned food and water. And, she wasn’t sure what time of day it was, or when she has last eaten.

Quinn spoke again, “I know it wasn’t much food, but it’s best not to overdo it right now. I’m going to leave a large pitcher of water with a straw. I’ll release one of your hands from the restraint so you can grab it. Do you prefer your left or your right?”

Davis was surprised at this question. Most people assumed she was right-handed, but she was indeed left-handed. There were two tables next to the bed, one on each side. After Davis told Quinn her preference, Quinn placed the pitcher on the table to the left and undid the restraint on her left wrist. Quinn then sat with Davis until she started to yawn and drift off. Quinn knew that she would sleep often and become weakened to such an extent that over the next few days, escape wouldn’t be a concern.

August 22, 2056 – Detoxification Explained

Quinn came into the room and saw Davis at the start of the process. She felt terrible about what she knew was going to happen to Davis, but she knew it was all part of the plan and that in the end, it would all be for the better. “How are you feeling, Davis?”

“I’m okay, I think. I have no strength, though, and am very tired, but I feel as if I’ve slept for days. I’m also confused; I know other people have been in here to feed me and refill my water. How many people are here?”

“We have several people here, but there’s nothing to worry about. Everyone is friendly, and you’ll get to know them in time. Don’t worry about anyone who comes in here; nobody will harm you. You have been asleep for two days off and on but have been mostly sleeping, and I hesitate to tell you, as a reminder, you are about to get very sick.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“You are going to be detoxing from not having your vaccination.”

Davis had forgotten entirely about the vaccination. She forgot she was due for it. And now, she tried to calculate in her head if she was already overdue or if today, she was due. “You’re past due, if you’re wondering. It’s why we took you when we did. In the first steps of the detox, you will be exhausted and weak. You have noticed that already. I will be honest with you, and I’m sorry about this part of it. You are going to feel very, very ill. Your head will hurt—”

“My head already hurts. It hurts since I’ve been here,” Davis said grumpily. She then got a weird look on her face. “Also, this is embarrassing, but what about using the restroom?”

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s fine; we’ve all been there, and everyone needs help once in a while. You haven’t eaten much, really, and although you’ve been drinking water, you’re also dehydrated. So, don’t worry. But we have ways to deal with anything. And in a few days, you’ll be strong enough to get up and use the restroom by yourself.”

“Great. All my dreams are coming true,” Davis said with sarcasm. “Okay, while we have this pleasant little chat, why are you forcing me to get sick? Why are you neglecting to give me my vaccine?”

“Because it’s not to keep the Lombardi Plague away. It administers a mind-control drug.”

August 22, 2056 –

Detoxification

Davis could vaguely remember wanting to argue with Quinn. She knew Quinn had said something absurd, but Davis felt so over-fatigued and ill that she simply didn’t have it in her power to say or do anything. And now, she lay there, barely able to move and feeling more afflicted; it was beyond belief. She’d never really been sick in the past. At least Davis didn’t remember ever having any type of real malaise. President Everett and his vaccinations had kept her well all these years. Why change anything? Blast Quinn and her damn withdrawing, she thought. But she kept drifting off into a sweaty, fidgety sleep, and after a while, she forgot the ridiculous things Quinn had even said to her.

Davis was aware that people were coming in and out of the room, occasionally giving her fresh water to sip and, sometimes, refreshing ice chips. Every so often, she got a spoonful of a clear broth, a cracker, or a small scoop of rice. It didn’t seem to matter what they fed her, though; she threw it all up. She hated the acrid, burning taste at the back of her throat. Davis felt as if a thick black tar was burning up her esophagus, licking the back of her throat, and coating her tongue in a foul taste. She was sore and ached all over; her body was covered in red, itchy welts. Her head pounded, and there was so much pressure and pain as if a massive concrete block was somehow simultaneously tied around her neck, dragging her down, and slamming against both temples at once. From what little awareness she had, the people that came into the room seemed kind. They helped her with the food, water and gave her a fan to try and give her direct cooling, the only thing that remotely gave her any relief. They put cold cloths on her head and cleaned up anything that needed cleaning up. Nothing mattered, though; the only thing that mattered to her was getting out of this misery.

“Kill me,” Davis remembered saying one day after Quinn walked in to see her. Davis just needed it to stop, and she didn’t know how long she had been in this hell but knew it had been too long. She was finished with this agony.

“It’s okay,” Quinn softly cooed. “It’s almost over.” She came over and sat with Davis next to the bed and placed her