Chapter 3: The Weinstein Plan

“Mrs. Masters? May I have a word with you in private,” Dr. Weinstein asked as he nodded towards the door. When they returned, it was Dr. Weinstein who began explaining what he wanted to try,

“Alex, I know you don’t want to become a lab-rat, but we need to find you some answers so that you can at least function somewhat normally in the real world,” he told me.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, what do you think will happen when you turn up at school in a few days and all the equipment seems to malfunction at the same time? Not to mention that all your classmates and teachers’ cell phones will cease to work?”

“Shit!” I exclaimed. “I hadn’t realized that could even happen.”

Mom just frowned as Dr. Weinstein continued, “Well, it’s happening here and now. We had to relocate you to this end room and remove every other patient from this floor for a distance of fifty feet. We also lost hundreds of thousands of dollars in specialized equipment. Thank goodness the hospital has insurance. So far, the only way we have figured out to keep you from destroying any more equipment is to sedate you. However, I think you would find it difficult to function at school if you’re even partly sedated.”

“They’d kick me out if I messed up school equipment and all my friends would hate me for fucking up their phones!” I said.

“I think you’re beginning to see the problem with letting you out of here,” he said gravely. “However, we cannot continue to keep you here, either.”

“Why not?” my mom asked a split second before I did.

“Did you notice what happened to the blood pressure machine a few moments ago?”

Mom and I both nodded but said nothing.

“And the lights?” he asked. “Did you notice them flickering?”

Again, we both just nodded.

“And what was Alex doing while this was happening?” he asked, directing the question to my mom.

“He was just lying there in his hospital bed,” she answered somewhat defensively.

“Lying there ... doing what?” he continued.

“He was ... oh!” she said suddenly as realization dawned. “He was getting upset!”

“So may I continue as I suggested out in the hall?” he asked her.

Mom hesitated, then nodded her head.

I looked from her to Dr. Weinstein and felt the anger building inside me. I was feeling used and did not like it one little bit. If you had asked me why I felt that way, I couldn’t have told you. Looking back, I want to believe that all the meds they had pumped into me over the last ten days had left me feeling paranoid. But for that moment, I felt like my world was spinning totally out of control and I lashed out at everyone that was near me. The very ones who were trying to help me.

“Alex, we’d like to...” Dr. Weinstein started.

“LEAVE NOW!” I screamed at him. “GET OUT! Get out of here and don’t come back!”

Suddenly, the already damaged blood pressure machine exploded, along with all the fluorescent light bulbs, and even the flat panel TV hanging on the wall.

“Alex!” mom cried as she threw herself across me. But what was more surprising was Dr. Weinstein flinging himself across both of us.

Even buried under my mom and Dr. Weinstein, I could hear the sound of crunching glass as people ran into the room. Seconds later, there was a slight prick on an exposed part of my arm and then ... darkness!