What Becomes Of The Brokenhearted?

Her thumb spun around the bottle’s mouth for the hundredth time. The glass and her thumb were old friends at this point. It was practically rubbed raw. Karissa glanced up at the empty road illuminated by her headlights. She put the bottle’s mouth to hers and drained it. Licking her lips, she moved to put her hands on the keys still in the ignition. She did not have much time. 

The Numbers were coming for her. 

The car sputtered as it always did. After several attempts, it finally rolled over. Shoving it into reverse, Karissa peeled out of the cul de sac, no longer caring if anyone saw her. Brett knew she was out there. He had to. She had called a dozen times telling him she was coming. Even though he didn’t answer, Karissa knew he had looked. Brett would have glanced at his messages in the bathroom or checked it under the table when no one was looking. He always did when he was with Karissa before this all happened. Before she picked up his phone when it dinged one night. The time it was not Jeff from work. It was someone named Ashlee. With two e’s because of course it was. 

It wouldn’t be long now. The Numbers came soon after the alerts were sent out.

Karissa unlocked her apartment and tossed her keys onto the table, missing entirely and heard them crash to the floor. It wouldn’t matter shortly so she walked past them into the main room. She paused and looked around. There were strange holes everywhere where Brett’s things had lived. It was almost as if those holes were discolored from being blocked by his record player and bike hanging on the wall. The room felt like it had been through a trauma. In a way, it had, she thought sadly.

Any minute now, she thought. She cracked a can of beer and plopped on the couch. Did they call first or just buzz the door?

A knock at the door. 

“They knock”, she mused, a little buzzed.

Standing on the other side of the door, Karissa tipped the can back to get as much as she could. She assumed you couldn’t drink there. That probably wasn’t good for her condition. She wrapped her hand around the door handle. It was shaking. 

It opened to reveal a man and woman standing before her, dressed entirely in cream colored uniforms. The woman had a sleek bob and the man’s hair resembled that of a doll's; it was so slicked back. Both had wide smiles across their faces and the man carried a sleek briefcase.

“Karissa Jacobs?” the woman asked in a lithy voice. Karissa nodded. “Sorry, miss, we need vocal confirmation please.”

“Yes,” Karissa responded, choking a little on those last sips of beer. “Yes, I am Karissa Jacobs.”

“Excellent, thank you.” The man snapped open the briefcase and pulled an electronic file out, handing it to the woman who pressed it on. She glanced it over. Karissa could see her face and name backwards through the thin screen. “You are no longer in a relationship with Brett Borowitz, is that correct?”

“Um, no, I don’t think so.”

“Miss Jacobs, a yes or no is what we need,” the man said sharply through his grin. It was unsettling and made Karissa’s stomach clench.

“No, we are not together anymore,” Karissa snapped back. The woman continued to read, smiling as she did. 

“Excellent, thank you,” she repeated. “Karissa Jacobs, we are here to escort you to the Peace of Mind Resort closest to you as a result of your reaction to the current conclusion of your romantic relationship.” She opened up, her arm extending outward. “Please come with us.” The man nodded and did the same. 

“How far is the Resort?”

“Miss Jacobs, we are not able to disclose that information. The location of the Resort is not imperative to the program,” the woman said. 

“Can I at least know who is taking me there?” The man and woman glanced at each other. 

“We understand it is more comfortable to know our names. While we do not have names for you to know, you can call us Seven and Nine.”

“Are you serious?” 

“Yes,” the woman answered without hesitation or humor. “Shall we?”

“Uh, sure, do I need to take anything?”

“No, we provide it all. Do you have any pets?”

“No.”

“Excellent. If I may have your phone please. You will have access to it at certain times throughout your program.” Karissa reluctantly handed over her cell. “Ear chip too please.” Karissa removed the piece clipped around her earlobe as well. Her ear felt naked without it. 

“What if I did have a pet?” They shared a glance again. The man called Nine shrugged.

“We normally do not share this information as it is not vital to your case but we would assign someone to it to care for it and take it in. We do not blame any pet for their owner’s situation.”

“That’s nice, I guess,” Karissa muttered, shutting the door behind her. Realizing she never grabbed her keys, she turned to the woman. “Should I lock it?”

“No need. Your superintendent will let us in to tend to your things. We are running late.”

Karissa followed them outside to a black town car waiting.

“If you would,” Seven said, handing her a blindfold and ear plugs. “As mentioned, the location is unknown.”

“So I can’t find my way back?” Karissa joked.

“Exactly,” Seven said flatly. Karissa swallowed hard and got into the car. Blindfold and plugs in place, she fell asleep after thirty minutes. Cars always made her tired. When she heard her name being called by Seven’s bright voice, she took off the blindfold to find it was daylight and they were here. 

From the outside, it looked like a large private school. Like the one in that old superhero film with the mutant kids and the bald professor, she thought. Beautiful gray brick littered with arched windows and ornate details in the stonework. The old song sprung to mind as she was sure it did for everyone. 

What becomes of the brokenhearted? Here was the answer. They end up here.

Seven and Nine escorted her through the front doors which opened into a stale hospital-looking lobby. There were several beige striped cushioned chairs to form a waiting room and a big glass window with a few employees behind it dressed in the same cream uniforms.The Numbers and Karissa approached together, the two of them pushing her to the front. The woman sitting directly behind the glass at a desk glanced up over her glasses. 

“Checking in, honey?”

“Yes. Karissa Jacobs.” The receptionist nodded, typing into her ancient and massive desktop computer. She wore a daffodil-colored name tag with the word Twenty in swirly lettering.

“Here you are. Great, we have you down for a stay of six weeks.”

“Why six weeks?” 

The receptionist rolled her eyes in such a way that hinted to Karissa she gets this question often. “It is just an estimate Dr. Hedges has created based on everyone’s situation. Could be longer or shorter. All depends on you, sugar plum.” She slapped a manila envelope onto the counter and slid it under the glass. “Enjoy your stay at Peace of Mind.”

“Your room number is listed at the top of your welcome packet,” Nine said “There is also a map. Enjoy your stay and happy healing, Miss Jacobs,” he said and gave a stiff wave. Seven repeated the gesture and they stood frozen watching Karissa turn and head to the massive doors that led deeper into the facility. She kept glancing over her shoulder to see if they moved. They didn’t until she was through the doors. Seven and Nine turned sharply and headed back outside. 

“That wasn’t weird at all,” Karissa muttered softly. 

“The Numbers? Yeah, they are fucked up,” a voice said behind her. Jumping, Karissa spun around with her hand to her chest. “Oops, sorry. Scared you?” A young woman in her mid-twenties stood before Karissa and, for a moment, she thought she could see right through her. Literally see through her. The girl was incredibly thin and pale, her skin translucent and sickly. The bags under her eyes had bags of their own and her cheeks were sunken in. Thin wisps of hair gathered on top of her head in a messy bun, but it was a joke to call them actual hair. 

“Hi,” Karissa said after she had stared way too long. 

“Hey, I’m Rose,” the girl said, thrusting out her hand. “What room are you?” She grabbed the folder before Karissa could even hand it to her. “Cool, room BB. That’s near mine. I’ll show you.”

“Okay,” Karissa replied. The hall ended and the girl turned right. This part of the building had beautiful maple hardwood floors and framed paintings along the walls. Every piece was like an upscale paint by numbers of still life examples: a bowl of fruit, a vase of flowers, sailboats in the harbor. It was all incredibly familiar and unassuming which calmed the nerves that were creeping up Karissa’s arms. 

They passed by a large room with several couches, a pool table, a large boxy television atop a wooden console, a Steinway piano, and bean bag chairs. Several people sat watching the television. It was quite cozy; nothing like the nursing home-vibe Karissa was expecting. It was all very curated to provoke New England charm in its style, like staying in a cabin on a lake. The knot in her stomach started to untie. This might not be so bad, she thought.

“BB. Here you are,” Rose said, stopping short in front of a door. “I’m BL, just down there. We should get dinner tonight.” The girl did not ask; it was more of a statement.

“Oh, uh, sure. That’s really nice of you,” Karissa said. She took her folder back and they stood awkwardly for a moment. “Why are you being so nice? Sorry if that’s weird to ask, but I don’t know what to expect here. How long have you been here?”

Rose laughed. It sounded hollow. “The second question I will answer at dinner. The first, well, I just lost one of my friends to the outside and saw you walk in and thought being a newbie, you could use a friend yourself.”

“Thanks,” Karissa smiled. “I appreciate that. So your friend got out?”

Rose’s face paled even more which seemed impossible. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Yeah, she got out.” Her voice cracked slightly on the last word.  

“That’s great! Well, I’m going to, uh, I guess see what I have in my room. Want to meet me here at seven?”

“Dinner is at five,” Rose said robotically.

“Oh, um, five then.”

“It’s all in the schedule,” Rose continued. “You’ll see. See you before five!” With that, she 

walked down the hall, raising her hand and waving it back at Karissa. I hope they aren’t all like that, Karissa thought. But at least she had a friend.

Her room was more of that curated classic New England charm; whites, gentle greens and more shades of beige than Karissa thought possible. The clothes in the small dresser were all similar to what Rose had been wearing: soft cotton pants and long-sleeved shirts, a few t-shirts, everything some shade of pastel. There were a lot of soft colors in this place. She had her own bathroom stocked with everything she could need and a shelf full of massive coffee table picture books featuring landscapes, foreign cities, and historic buildings. Karissa recalled painfully how her Aunt Helen had knee high stacks of these types of books all over her studio apartment. Plopping on the bed, she sighed heavily. This would be her home for as long as it took to put her heart back together. 

Glancing across the room, she noticed a clunky flat screen television on the wall playing what appeared to be a welcome video silently. “Volume,” Karissa said automatically. Nothing happened. Looking closer, this television was an older model than any version she had ever used, at least twenty years old. Government money, she laughed to herself. Glancing around the bed, she located a small remote. She pressed MUTE and a voice over sprang to life. 

It started off by outlining her packet: a map, schedule, history of the program. Karissa had them spread across her bed; they were all laminated and colored-coded. A man and woman introduced the video, standing stock-still with plastic smiles that reminded Karissa of the Numbers who had collected her. They were dressed in storm gray slacks and blazers, hair pulled back from their frozen faces, not a wrinkle on them. There was a slideshow of quotes and photos from famous residents who have flourished since leaving their Resort.

“I never knew how happy I could be! Dr. Hedges taught me that my depression is all in my head and I can overcome anything with the right tools and practice! I only wish I had come sooner!”

The woman stepped forward toward the camera. “This program is unique to you and you alone. We want to build strong walls around your heart. We all know what human beings are like when they experience deep depression. They can’t focus, they don’t eat, or sleep. They hurt other people. We teach you how to endure even in heartbreak. We show you that feelings are defeatable. You can overcome them! No more lying in bed all day and crying into your pillow! Strength is the way to keep you going. You keep your job, your love life, your relationships. If you are hurt again, you are ready for it. You know how to move on without taking any time away from your routine.”

The man nodded and continued, “The program has given us all a new take on life. Are you ready for yours?” The video snapped off with a click to a black screen. Settling into her pillow, Karissa stared up at the ceiling. That doesn’t sound so bad, she thought. Not so bad at all. 

*******

Rose picked her up at her room promptly at 4:56PM and led her to the dining room. It was filled with long wooden community tables. A few people were already there but not as many as Karissa imagined.

“How many people are usually here?”

“Not many right now,” Rose answered. “It’s cafeteria style. Grab a tray.” The food pickup station was a massive stainless steel shelf covered in different size boxes. Glancing them over, Karissa nonchalantly reached for one under a heat lamp that looked like pasta. Rose grabbed her wrist as she did, almost making her drop it.

“What the hell?”

“Your name only,” Rose said darkly. Then she let out a croaky laugh. “Sorry! Wow, that was creepy. No, we just have all our meals assigned. Did you even read your packet?”

Karissa shrugged. “I guess I just glanced at it.” She searched the boxes until finding one with labeled “KARISSA JACOBS, Rm. BB” and put it on her tray. There was a selection of desserts at the end of the line and Karissa watched with surprise as Rose grabbed two chocolate cakes. Glancing at her, wide eyed, Rose cracked a smile. “What? Dessert is a free choice!” Thin as she was, it seemed Rose still had an appetite. 

“The food does not disappoint, at least,” Karissa said as she took the lid off her box. Chicken enchiladas with a side salad. A meal Karissa ordered dozens of times in college and late nights working at the paper before she was laid off. The first bite sent a tremor of familiarity and comfort down her body and she felt her shoulders relax, not realizing how tense they had been.

“So,” Karissa said after finishing her salad. Rose raised her eyebrows. “How long have you been here?”

“Right, right,” Rose muttered. She swallowed her last massive forkful of chocolate cake. “Here we go. I’ve been here a minute. Longer than most. The people I came in with left a while ago. Guess I just really like being really fucking sad.”

“Oh,” Karissa struggled for the right thing to say. She wanted to know how long exactly but did not want to push Rose. “I am sure something will work out. Why did you come here in the first place?”

“Tsk, tsk,” Rose answered, clicking her tongue. “You’re not supposed to ask me that, newbie.”

“Right, sorry.”

“Nah, fuck it, I don’t care,” Rose said. “My mother died when I was nine. She overdosed and I couldn’t wake her up.” Rose’s voice was calm and steady. “I was by myself in the apartment for four days. Went into the foster care system, you know how it was I’m sure.”

“Uh, yeah, sure. I’m familiar,” Karissa lied.

“Anyway, it fucked me up pretty much forever, I think. Dr. Miranda thinks I can be cured but nothing’s worked yet.” Rose licked the crumbs off her fork.

“Wait,” Karissa said hesitantly. “That must have been before the program started.” Rose nodded, her tongue lapping the fork prongs. “Did they retroactively find you or something?”

Rose swallowed hard. “Nope. Guess I left out the best parts. That all happened before I was here. My first serious girlfriend, you know the one that makes you think love is forever and all glitter and sunshine out your ass?” Karissa nodded. “She dumped me kind of suddenly and I lost my shit. I ended up here almost an hour after she ended it. I was about to jump in front of the subway.”

“Jesus.”

“They brought me in for that. That was the cherry on top of a really fucked up sundae.”

“Yeah, I can imagine that would have set off a signal.”

“Oh, and I tried to slit her throat. Left that part out, too,” she said, grinning with chocolate cake in her teeth. Karissa forced a smile in spite of her body clenching with each detail Rose revealed.

“So, if you’ve been here a while, what’s it really like?” Karissa ventured. Her natural curiosity always got the best of her. 

“What’s your story? That’ll help my answer. Let’s break all the rules.” She grinned again. It made Karissa feel uncomfortable, like Rose was sizing her up.

“Boyfriend cheated on me after I was going through a tough time. I found out, threw a phone at his head, and sort of have been stalking them outside her house at night. And the farmer’s market. And anywhere else they go.”

Rose raised an over plucked eyebrow. “Nothing before? No dark days or suicidal nights? Usually they flag you from birth.”

“Uh, no. No, not really,” Karissa stuttered. Of course there had been dark days, she was a human but Rose didn’t need to know that. Karissa was taken because of the breakup, that was all. 

“Got it,” Rose said. “Well, you should be pretty cut and dry. You’ll have an easy program. Group, maybe some rage sessions, a few big cries. You could be out in a month.” Rose’s face flashed with a mischievous glare. “What was her name?”

“Ashlee. With two e’s.”

“Of course it was,” Rose said. They both erupted into laughter and as much as Karissa thought this girl was insane, she ended her first day feeling confident the program could work for her. 

********

The next morning, her program schedule in one hand and her laminated map in the other, Karissa found the room for group therapy. The program schedule had big bold lettering at the top that said: This program is a suggestion and not enforced. If we find you are not progressing, a different program may be suggested or the suggestions may become mandatory. Keeping that in mind, Karissa stepped into the room for the ‘suggested’ group therapy. 

The walls were sunflower yellow and cushioned chairs formed a circle in the center. Framed posters of vast landscapes were evenly placed around the room. Mountains, forest, a flowing river. It was the most doctor’s office-vibe Karissa had seen so far.

A man with broad shoulders and slicked-back hair sat facing the door. When Karissa walked in, he smiled and gestured to the empty chairs. Karissa chose one and watched as he repeated the gesture to every resident that stepped in after her. There were a total of eight of them when the man stood and welcomed everyone to their first session.

“I am Forty. I hope you all have enjoyed your stay here at Peace of Mind so far. Today, we are starting out slowly with introductions and the reason you have found yourself here at the Resort.”

“Because it’s mandatory?” a small voice muttered. Several chuckles passed around the circle. Forty snapped his head in the direction of the voice but everyone shut their mouths and looked at the floor. 

“Who would like to begin?” It was a few minutes before anyone raised their hand. The room filled with sounds of people shifting in their seats, a few false clearings of throats. Karissa bit the inside of her cheek nervously. A man named Marcus with bright orange-colored hair broke the ice.

“Alright, doc, here goes nothing.”

“I am not a doctor, Marcus,” Forty said.

“Ah, right. Great, that’s comforting,” Marcus said dryly. “Well, I had been a fan my entire life. I mean, c’mon, who isn’t? My father introduced me to Bowie when I was only five years old. Five, man. When Bowie died, I kept it together for a long time, though it hurt like a bitch. This program started a few years later and was not available to most of us peasants.” He smirked across the circle at Forty. Forty kept his plastic smile. “Then this Christmas, “Little Drummer Boy” came on the oldies station and I lost it.”

“Can you please elaborate? We find it is very helpful to hear what others go through,” Forty encouraged.

“Sure,” Marcus said. His response sounded like tin. “I suddenly realized there was never another artist like Bowie. I thought maybe one would pop up but no one ever did. We hadn’t had anyone leading us in years. Us weirdos, you know, man? I lost my leader.” He twisted his fingers together in his lap nervously. “So I stole my roommate’s car and drove all the way to Cleveland. The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame is still open, you know. Bowie is in it. I wanted to die next to something of his.” He gazed off wistfully. “I didn’t make it, though. Ran the car into a ditch. The Numbers got to me right after. The signal had gone off once I took the car, I guess.” 

“Thank you, Marcus,” Forty said evenly. There were a few whispers, one girl was suppressing a giggle. “As many of you will learn if you do not already know, we take all kinds here. A broken heart is a broken heart at Peace of Mind. We do not judge the cause.” 

Several more residents went, all different in some way. Death, rejection, a cheating husband, general sadness leftover from The Outbreak. One person was mourning her dog while another had attempted to slit his wrists when he lost some golf tournament. Karissa was one of the last ones to go. As she introduced herself, she braced to fall back into the memory of how it all occurred, knowing how her heart would split in the process.

Six months ago…

Karissa didn’t ask him how long it had been going on for. She already knew. She was having a rough time. She had just lost her job at the paper and her beloved Aunt Helen in the same week. Anyone would have been having a hard time. But Karissa felt the universe was out to get her. Every night over dinner Brett had prepared because she was too exhausted, she complained. She heard the harsh words but she could not make them stop. She sensed the poison spilling over both of them but it was no use; she was a prisoner to the negative. It was all black for her now with no escape. 

“I think you should see someone,” Brett had said multiple times. One night that sprung to the forefront, they were sitting on the couch, Karissa with a joint to her lips. She raised her brows and nodded at the thin, twisted paper in her fingers.

“This is working just fine.”

“Rissa, no, it’s not. You should talk it out with someone...professional.” Karissa recoiled then, sucking in the weed sharply. Brett tried to say more but she had already left the room, joint in hand, slamming the door to the bedroom behind her. 

That was when it began. She was convinced. He had tried to save them and she refused. She hid in their closet until he came to bed and turned off the lights. He knew she was in there but he knew her well enough after four years that she wasn’t coming out. Karissa wrapped herself up in the quilt Aunt Helen had made of all of Karissa’s theater productions growing up and waited until she heard Brett snoring. It still smelled like her: cedar and Dior.

“Thank you, Karissa,” Forty cut her off. “That will be enough for today.” He stood up and instructed the group to follow. Shaken from the emotional recall, Karissa stood slowly. “Now let us all join hands.” They followed. “Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Repeat after me: Strength over sadness. Whole over broken. My feelings are not me. Together we can heal.” The group repeated the slogan for the program and were dismissed. A sour taste in her mouth, Karissa glanced down at her schedule to see Empowerment was next up. Hopefully that will be less invasive, she thought.

Karissa followed the map deep into the building where Empowerment was. She stepped into a bright room with mirrored walls. It reminded Karissa of the dance studio where she took lessons  as a kid, the dream of being on Broadway just being born in her mind instead of six feet underground as it was now. 

“Hello!” A young man in a baby blue leotard was standing in the corner near a sound system. “Are you Miss Jacobs?”

“Yes. Hi,” Karissa said, giving a feeble wave. 

“Fantastic! Let’s get started! You can call me Nineteen.”

“Sure,” Karissa replied.

Music started blaring. Karissa jumped and shot a look at Nineteen who quickly turned it down. Nineteen instructed her to dance as she wished and the session would last for 30 minutes. After about 10 minutes, Karissa did start dancing in spite of herself. Nineteen cranked familiar catchy songs; classic pop hits her aunt had introduced her to. They were mostly powerhouse female vocals about being strong and worthy. She felt like she was transported back to her middle school bedroom. When it was over, Karissa walked out of the room, giving a wave to Nineteen, who had stood frozen the entire session watching her with his plastic smile. The heat of exercise washed away the iciness trickling down her neck as his eyes followed her exit.

*******

A few days into the program, Karissa had had dinner with Rose consistently.  They developed a sarcastic rapport and Karissa looked forward to ending the day together. Karissa was dying to know Rose’s program in spite of the rule that no one was allowed to ask but she had been closed mouth about it whenever they were together. She had seen Rose heading outside for her nature walk with a Number. Most residents were able to wander in the woods alone but some were assigned Numbers to watch them. Rose would be a flight risk, Karissa assumed, having been here as long as she hinted at. Secrecy aside, Karissa found comfort in their evening dialogue.

“Lots coming in tomorrow,” Rose mentioned halfway through dinner.

“How do you know?” Karissa’s curiosity sprung to attention. 

“Valentine’s Day,” Rose said. Her evil smirk climbed up her face. “Always a big intake around any holiday.” 

Karissa paused, confused. “I feel like I was one of six people who got here the beginning of the year after the holidays. It didn’t feel like very many.”

“There were more,” Rose said darkly. “Lots more. Most got out.” She cast her eyes downward. “Or didn’t make it.”

“What does it mean? What happens when you fail the program? People have to, right? Like what they did with drug addicts in rehabs. It doesn’t say anywhere in the packet what the downside is.”

Rose sat for a moment twirling her fork on her plate. “They send you away. I don’t know where they send you. They just take you away and you don’t come back. Some people say it’s a cliff they throw you off of.”

“A CLIFF? Rose, be serious.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Karissa realized Rose was being serious. 

“A cliff or someone once told me they drug you and take you out into the ocean. They go until you can’t see land and sink you to the bottom to rot.” Rose’s eyes looked wet when she met Karissa’s. A cold current passed between them over the table. Rose sniffed quietly and went back to staring at her plate.

“They probably just send you home, Rose,” Karissa said, in a comforting tone. Rose looked at her with a stony glare.

“You don’t go home, Rissa,” Rose said.

Karissa’s stomach dropped alongside her fork. Scrambling to pick it up, she knew her face was growing red. “How...why did you call me that?”

“What? Rissa? Isn’t that a normal nickname for Karissa?”

“Yeah. Uh, yeah, you’re right.” Karissa composed herself, shaking off the familiarity of Brett’s nickname for her. “Anyway, it’s not like they kill you, Rose. That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe not,” Rose replied. “But they certainly get rid of you. You aren’t good to go back to society. That’s the whole point of this shit. You are supposed to get better to rejoin the perfect world that never gets hurt.”

“It’s a good thing!” Karissa heard herself arguing but wasn’t sure where the motivation to defend the program was coming from. “Look how many people they help! All those celebrities talk about it like it’s fucking heaven here.” 

Karissa recalled an article from when the program started. The latest “It” couple had bit the dust, much to the world’s dismay. “They were so perfect, what went wrong?” splattered across every screen. Both actors entered the program at separate locations and came out gushing. They were changed, they were whole, they were ready to start again. Both are remarried with several children each and their careers are better than ever. 

“Do you think it’s fucking heaven, Rissa?” 

A chill went up her spine everytime Rose said to Rissa. She swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat. Shouldn’t I be over that by now? she wondered. 

“No, but it isn’t that bad. Food’s good, the bed is comfortable. I really liked Empowerment.”

“I prefer breathing real air,” Rose said stiffly. 

“I might try the Rage Room,” Karissa attempted to change the subject. Rose shrugged it off and they finished their meal in awkward silence. 

The Rage and Cry Rooms were tiny corner spaces where you could go to either scream and break things, or sit and listen to sad music and sob into pillows. Karissa went to the Cry Room several times when she first arrived as suggested in her personal program. It was a pleasant space with cushions, lavender painted walls, and songs of the 1950s and 1960s about heartbreak playing on an ancient rounded radio with three knobs. 

It was cathartic at first. The welcome packet has described the Cry Room as a place that gave permission to let sadness take over. After several visits however, the old music gave Karissa a sinister impression. The lyrics felt otherworldly; a time forgotten when heartache was solved with drink and a cigarette. Never much of a crier, Karissa found herself sitting cross legged and dreaming of this foreign world where a person could handle their pain in private and discovered she left angry instead of relieved. She stopped going to the Cry Room. 

The Rage Room was a similar size to the Cry Room but with ruby red walls. When she entered, loud angry music started playing. There was a pile in the center of the room of various items: a massive old television set, the biggest computer Karissa had ever seen, several different sized mirrors, and a few fluffy pillows. There was a mallet, a hammer, and a dull wooden stake hanging on a rack on the back wall. They probably wouldn’t want anyone cutting themselves, Karissa thought, noticing there were no sharp objects available. Beside the rack lay protective plastic clothing and goggles. 

Picking up one of the overstuffed pillows, she squished it to feel inside. It was full of feathers. It had been a long time since she had felt a pillow with actual feathers. Plucking the dull stake from the rack, she held the pillow out and imagined Brett’s face as she stabbed it repeatedly, feathers flying around her like snow. She picked up the mallet and took it to the computer hard and fast. The computer dented making a sickening creaking noise. Karissa imagined her boss laying her off, saying the newspaper was folding and her voice wasn’t good enough for the online magazine. She picked up the hammer last and stood in front of the largest mirror at her reflection. The dark circles under her eyes had lessened since being in the program. Her hair was shinier and she had gained some weight back eating the curated meals that were always what she was craving. Karissa pulled back her arm and swung the hammer into the center of the glass. It cracked but didn’t shatter. She hit it several more times, picturing her Aunt Helen’s slack face in her casket. The cracks grew longer and crawled to the edges of the frame. Breathing heavily, Karissa dropped the hammer and surveyed the damage. As she walked out of the room, she caught her reflection in the window of the door. She was grinning ear to ear. Perhaps she was angry after all.

*******

Karissa took her usual seat in Historical Impact next to Marcus who was picking at his nails. “How’s it hanging, K?” he said in his usual stung out voice. The chalkboard had today’s subject on it: a continuation of The Outbreak’s history and how the program became government mandated. Karissa absentmindedly rubbed her forearm where her chip had been implanted when she was in high school. Never did she think she’d end up at one of these places. 

Seventyfour was the Number that led this class. She was a stout middle aged woman with a scowl that made her plastic smile seem like it was melting. She slapped her pointer on the chalkboard to draw attention that the period was beginning.

“Now, let us review the facts we have already covered. Who would like to tell me when the sadness began in this country?” No one moved. Seventyfour lightened her voice. “Oh, come on! You all know it! Most of you were old enough to even remember it.”

A young man who sat behind Karissa and Marcus raised his hand. “The official Outbreak started in 2025 with some cases reported prior to that.”

“That is correct, Henry! Great work. You must have been in college then, am I correct?”

“Yes, I was.” Henry’s voice shook as eyes traveled over to him. “I dropped out though.”

“I am sorry, Henry. Many did at that time. You are not alone.” Henry nodded and brushed his face against his shoulder to wipe the tears he was attempting to hide. “Who wishes to continue with the key points of The Outbreak? Anyone?” Once again, no one moved. Seventyfour didn’t flinch. “I am happy to review it.” Karissa rolled her eyes. This is what happened in every Historical Impact. If not one answered, Seventyfour went over it again and again until someone did. Frustrated, Karissa raised her hand. 

“The Outbreak started sometime after all social media was made public. You couldn’t have a private profile on anything. So everything you ever shared was seen by the entire world. That’s how people started to notice how sad everyone was.”

“Excellent, Karissa! She is correct. With all social media programs available to everyone’s eyes, we all got carried away with comparing and competing against each other. There were also those who spread sadness with messages about their pain and heartbreak. Depression and anxiety diagnosis rose 70% in one year.” She pointed to a graph she had drawn a few weeks prior on the chalkboard. “Then what happened?”

“It all crashed,” an older woman in the back said softly.

“Yes, Evelyn! It all crashed. The stock market, economy, school attendance. Everyone was so sad!” Seventyfour made a fake sad face as she said this that made Karissa’s blood boil. “It was difficult to leave home for many. People lost their jobs, marriages, college degrees.” She nodded at Henry who turned bright red. “No one could focus or overcome it. It was a virus that was killing us all.” She paused and turned her back to the class, her eyes running across all the facts she had written neatly on the board. “There was no escape,” she whispered under her breath.

Spinning back around with her smile plastered brightly, Seventyfour pulled the massive television atop black shelves to the center of the class. “Now let’s continue with the footage from Dr. Hedges signing the program into life!” 

The screen twitched and flickered into a fuzzy video of Dr. Hedges with many government officials signing the paperwork to make the program mandatory. While Dr. Hedges started the program in 2025 once The Outbreak was officially declared, it wasn’t until 2027 that it became available to the public. It began as a luxury rehab facility where it costs a fortune to do the program. Resorts hadn’t opened yet; it was all in cabins or seaside villas the patients paid for when they signed up. More and more people scrimped and saved to be able to do the program as they watched the participants pour out in happy droves, never to be a burden to society again. 

The government quickly took notice that all who did the program were extremely successful once it was complete. The economy had tanked and the world had grown dark without new music, art, and film. No one wanted to create let alone work a normal job. Buildings lay empty as employees stopped showing up for work. The fast food industry stopped existing though it is slowly making a comeback which the video notes proudly. When the government approached Dr. Hedges, she was hesitant. The video snapped to an interview with a younger looking Miranda sitting with her legs crossed in a chic pantsuit. 

“I was not sure this was the right path for the program,” Dr. Hedges was saying. “But the government was right. It was helping so many people, everyone should be able to experience it. I signed the papers and haven’t had a single regret since!”

Marcus snoring next to her, Karissa leaned over her desk to absorb the remainder of the video. This was the part she remembered watching as a kid but she wanted a refresher now experiencing what the chip did firsthand. 

“We wanted to find a way to measure depression and heartbreak,” a scientist with a gruff voice in a blazer that was too tight for his shoulders was saying. “So I invented the chip that will go into every adolescent in North America.” The chip had since spread across the world with several countries using their own iteration of it. “It will track changes in blood pressure as well as adrenaline and eventually will be able to measure brainwaves to alert when dark thoughts pop into your head.” The scientist then went on to explain how the chip would signal a drone that locates the individual in trouble and then alert the Numbers who had yet to be named officially at the time. The video cut to black after showing a line of high school students waiting for their chips to be implanted and one pretty girl saying how it didn’t hurt one bit.

“From there,” Seventyfour said. “The Resorts were created on the East and West coast. Now we have several others in the United States and many more around the globe. A hotline was created to help the Numbers locate anyone in trouble. The public has assisted with over a thousand cries for help.   America is once again at its best and strongest. We are resilient to sadness. We are stronger as a whole.” Her face practically cracked with her grin. “That is all for today! We will review this tomorrow and cover how the program has increased the economy and decreased depression in such a short time!”

“Bullshit,” Marcus said as they walked out of the room. “They keep saying they’ve cured depression and anxiety. Man, that is what makes most of us tick.”

“Do you not like it here?”

“Do you, K?” Marcus asked. “I mean, it’s better than the alternative, I guess. I feel better but there is no way I won’t hear a Bowie song when I get out and not feel sad. I mean, how do you not feel sad anymore?”

“I don’t know,” Karissa said. Part of her truly believed the program was meant to ease sadness, not erase it. But the other part of her was started to itch with the suspicion it was more than that. “I really don’t.” 

*******

On the last day of her fourth week, Karissa was invited to meet with Dr. Miranda Hedges, the inventor of the program. She came through once a month and met with residents who were halfway or almost finished with their programs. She used it as research to develop the program and find weaknesses within it. Or so the welcome packet explained.

Dr. Hedges’ office was stunning. It was all wood and white and green. Flourishing plants draped over bookshelves and tables. The walls were an eggshell white, comforting and clean. The ceiling looked like that of a farmhouse. Dr. Hedges sat facing out her enormous bay window, her back to Karissa. Her desk was organized with very few papers and a tall, thin, green vase filled with lilies. 

The chair spun slowly like it belonged to a mustache-twirling villain in a fairy tale. Karissa almost let a giggle escape but held it in. She had heard of Dr. Hedges from her aunt. Aunt Helen was obsessed with Dr. Hedges’ work and was constantly quoting her. Helen truly believed Dr. Hedges was out to make the world a better place by healing each and every heart so it wouldn’t break again. A woman familiar with heartbreak, Aunt Helen had always hoped to meet her. Instead it was Karissa who stood before the doctor.

Dr. Hedges was a striking woman. She had incredible bone structure and impossibly flawless skin. It was a color Karissa had never seen; dark but reflecting the light like a crystal. Her eyes were almond-shaped and a deep brown. They were warm as was her smile as she waved her hand upwards to bring the image of Karissa’s file to display on her desk.

“Miss Jacobs. So lovely to meet your acquaintance. Please sit.” Karissa sat in the chair opposite Dr. Hedges. ‘How have you been liking it here at Peace of Mind?”

“I have been enjoying it mostly,” Karissa said nervously. She didn’t mind it but she also didn’t want to stay any longer than she had to.

“Mostly? Please elaborate.” Dr. Hedges raised her hand from the desk, pulling up a holographic file. “Looking at the Numbers’ reports, it seems you are doing quite well! I’d love to hear more feedback if you wouldn’t mind.” She was less robotic than the Numbers, yet spoke with a similar cadence. Probably trained to be like her, Karissa realized.

“I didn’t mean anything really by it. I miss the city, I suppose. My friends. Family.”

“Hmm, I see,” Dr Hedges muttered, glancing back at the file. “It says here you don’t have many friends or family around. Your parents are living down in Florida full time. How nice for them! Your friends were mostly Brett’s, your ex. Is that correct?”

Karissa’s face grew hot. Her aunt had practically raised her and she could not recall the last visit her parents made since moving south. It had not occurred to her that most of her friends were, in fact, Brett’s. Her heart cracked at the realization like a nail being driven into glass. “Yes, I guess that is correct. We were together a while. Our friends mostly blended. My parents get up here from time to time.”

“Hmm, not for four years it seems,” Dr. Hedges corrected. Why is that even in there? Karissa thought anxiously. “How unfortunate. I only meant you shouldn’t feel rushed to leave,” she continued. “There is not much waiting for you out there. Not until you are ready to start fresh.”

“That’s not very encouraging.” She heard herself say it and slapped her hands over her face. Dr. Hedges raised a single eyebrow and a silence fell between them. Karissa was about to apologize when Dr Hedges started to laugh.

“No, you’re right. It’s not!” she cracked. “I’m sorry. That is not what I meant. With this program, we want you to fully heal before being released. We want you to leave your past behind and be ready for the new challenges you are going to face. A job, a relationship, new friends. We all have so many responsibilities these days. It is best to be prepared for the next time you find yourself feeling depressed.”

Karissa nodded. That was a good point. She wasn’t ready. Not yet. Her mind still raced with plans to take her car and drive past Ashlee’s house to check on Brett, even at the risk of being caught. Maybe text him and see if he wanted to get coffee. We still need closure, she reasoned.

“I can see you are thinking about it now, aren’t you?” Karissa twitched at being caught and shook her head unconvincingly. “It’s quite normal. I understand you wanting to check in with your past. See what you’ve missed being here. Get some closure, perhaps.”

“Yes,” Karissa answered, a chill running down her neck. “Yes, exactly.” She can’t be in my head, she assured herself. It is just a coincidence. 

“Let’s talk about it briefly. I do not wish to interrupt the program’s progress. However, I do like hearing it in the patient’s own words. Much better than all this dribble, don’t you think?” she said, swishing the file to the side of her desk with a flick of her wrist. “Take me back to the end.” 

Karissa gulped and slid back into that same memory she had shared in therapy, a little further down the timeline. 

Four months ago…

She had gotten better. She had started seeing a therapist and was taking CBD instead of smoking weed every day. She thought they were back on track. Brett was warmer towards her and they even took a short beach trip over Labor Day Weekend. He had been on his phone the entire time, citing work was busy, which surprised Karissa. Brett worked for Columbia University and she knew they basically shut down and got the fuck out during any holiday weekend. She didn’t question it. Things were good. She didn’t want to ruin it.

Weeks later, right around Christmas, she found the texts. Brett was in the shower and had left his phone on the bed. Karissa was gathering laundry and grabbed his pants to shove in the hamper. His phone tumbled off of them and lit up with several alerts of messages hovering above the screen. Karissa rolled her eyes. Brett preferred the 3D mode of everything. She thought nothing of it as it dinged with another text. But then it dinged again. And again. Maybe it’s an emergency, she had thought.

“Brett!” Karissa called out. “Brett?” He must not hear me over the water, she thought. Shrugging, she picked up the phone.

Ashlee, Karissa read, glancing at the screen. Does Brett work with an Ashlee? His texts were hidden on the lock screen even in the 3D mode but she knew how to open the message without face recognition. It dinged again. Ashlee. Karissa typed “PrinceEdwrdIslnd”, the place Brett’s family vacation as a kid that was his password for everything and it unlocked.

It only took a moment of scrolling to discover it all. Brett had been considering ending a six month-long affair but this Ashlee was fighting it. She wanted him to leave Karissa and come live with her. Karissa walked into the bathroom, completely numb, and called Brett’s name so he opened the shower door. She hurled the phone at his head as hard as she could. She missed and it clattered against the tile wall and fell into the tub. Brett frantically went for it while trying to ask what was happening. Karissa spun on her heel and was gone.

Packed bags and a two-hour fight a few days later, Brett was having dinner with Ashlee with two e’s and Karissa was watching them from her car in the cul de sac.

A thought sprung into her head when she finished. “Does Brett know I am here?”

“We do not communicate with any terminated significant other. It is not necessary to the program.”

“Can you elaborate on the program? In your own words,” Karissa said slyly. “I knew a little about it even before coming here. My aunt read all your books. She was a big fan.”

“That is so sweet! I’d be happy to autograph a copy of one for her...oh,” her voice trailed off. “I see here she is marked as a trigger for your depression - your close family death. I am very sorry.”

“Yes. Last year.” Karissa felt her chest tighten as it always did when she mentioned Aunt Helen.

“The details are unclear in your file,” Dr Hedges said. “May I ask what happened? It can be healthy to talk about.”

“I lost my job. I worked at a newspaper. A dead art apparently.” Dr Hedges nodded, watching her intently. “My aunt killed herself before I even told her. The same week. Go figure.” Karissa let her words drip with her usual sarcasm. Dr. Hedged did not seem to object. “She was a dancer, a good one. But they were edging her out of the company she worked for. Getting older, all that bullshit. So, she, um, she just…” Karissa trailed off. It was always hard to finish the sentence.

“Thank you, Miss Jacobs. I think I understand. I wish our program could have gotten to her in time.”

“Yes, me too.” Karissa paused. Something she had always wondered landed in the forefront of her mind. “Do you know why it didn’t?”

“Miss Jacobs,” Dr. Hedges started slowly. “It is hard to say why the program does not find some before it is too late. Perhaps your aunt was out of range at the time of her death. She may have been able to elude the Numbers or our drones. It is more difficult if the patient does not have a history and the incident comes on suddenly.” She gazed softly at Karissa. “Your aunt may have not sparked a signal or warning. The program is not perfect.” A kind smile spread across her face. “We are getting there though, do not worry.”

“Now to elaborate on what we do, what I created. A little over 10 years ago, as you know, there was a horrible sadness outbreak, for lack of a better phrase. I was a victim of this horrible disease. I couldn’t leave my home! My marriage was crumbling. My husband was having an affair with a much younger woman and I was a shell of a human being,” Dr. Hedges explained. Karissa remembered reading that in a widespread article around the time her program was gaining fame. Her husband had ended up in a West Coast Resort after the younger woman inevitably ended it. Hedges had said she had not thought of it as revenge; she was happy the program could help her ex-spouse. She did quip that it did not feel horrible to know the new relationship had not worked out. “Everything happens for a reason, I suppose. And look at me now,” she had been quoted.

 “I immediately dove into my work, researching past therapies for depression, anxiety, and general heartache since nothing seemed to be working for me,” Dr. Hedge continued, bringing Karissa back to attention. “I was shocked to see there was very little treatment for heartbreak specifically.”

“So you made your own,” Karissa interrupted. 

Dr. Hedges dipped her head, her eyes narrowing at Karissa slightly. The warm smile snapped back into place but not before Karissa felt the air between them stiffen.

“Exactly!” Dr. Hedges said, throwing her hands up enthusiastically. “I created the program to assist in the cure for the sadness that was killing our population. It took awhile but eventually, the program gained steam and now, here we are!”

“Dr. Hedges, with all due respect, how do you cure sadness? It is a human emotion,” Karissa asked. She was taking a risk pressing the doctor like this.

“That perhaps is the wrong word,” Dr. Hedges recovered, still beaming. “Resilience is what we use here at the Resorts. A resilience to sadness.”

“Was your intention to have it be government mandated?”

“My, Miss Jacobs, I can see the journalist in you! So many questions! No, it was never my intention to have the government involved,” she said steadily. “It was more a dream realized when they approached me. I welcomed it with open arms. How could I not? It has become worth all the paperwork,” she said, her voice sounding strained. “Don’t you feel more in control of your emotions? We let you release every one you have bottled up with our Rage and Cry rooms so you can identify them and release or destroy. You can dance until you feel nothing but the air spinning around you, sending all dark thoughts out into the universe,” Dr Hedges beamed. “That was my newest addition: Empowerment. Nineteen reported you liked it?”

“I did, a lot. He played good music.”

“Good, I am so glad the curation works for you.”

“Curation?”

“Of course, Miss Jacobs. We go through everything you listen to and make a playlist suited for you.”

“You go through my stuff?”

Dr. Hedges kept her smile though Karissa saw the sides of her mouth twitch. “Yes, Miss Jacobs. That is part of the process. We learn everything we can so we are fully equipped to handle when you arrive.” Another chill slid down her neck and spread to her shoulders. She never thought about it but of course they did. They only played songs she had emotional attachment to. She knew every one. Dinner always was a favorite meal, ones she craved and made consistently. The books in her room like Aunt Helen used to have. Her bathroom had her favorite shampoo. Nothing was a coincidence, as she had assumed.

“I guess I never noticed,” Karissa commented. A dark fog seemed to enter the room as Karissa quietly analyzed all the moments in the program that had felt comforting but were in fact superficially made to convince her she was safe and secure and healing. 

“That’s a little insulting!” Dr Hedges replied lightly. “I’m kidding, of course. We try to make it that way so you are comfortable.” She waved the file back into view on her desk and scrolled over a few pages. “You have two more weeks scheduled. How do you feel about that?”

“Good. I think I will be ready. Rose has two weeks left in hers too and we are hoping to get out together.”

“Rose Sawyer?”

“Yeah.”

Dr. Hedge's mouth pinched tightly. “That’s wonderful. Rose found a friend. She is one of my most interesting patients. Poor dear. I do hope she succeeds this time.”

“Me too. I can’t believe she has been here for so long.”

Dr. Hedges didn’t respond. She sighed heavily. “Miss Jacobs, Karissa. You were instructed not to share personal details.” Another pause. “How long did Rose say she had been here, out of curiosity?”

Karissa shrugged, embarrassed she had revealed she had broken the main rule. “She didn’t say specifically. I shouldn’t have asked. It was my first day, I was nervous. Rose didn’t tell me anything, really.” 

“It is fine, Miss Jacobs,” Dr. Hedges replied calmly. “Rose has been here a long time. She has been here almost ten years.”

“Ten years?!”

“Yes, ten years. Since we opened up the East Coast Resort. I should not be telling you this but we have tried everything with Rose and she never passes her final review. I have been studying her in hopes to solve the puzzle she presents to us.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. She would have been only fifteen when she first got here. She said…”

Dr. Hedges raised a hand to stop Karissa from continuing. “I am sure Rose said a lot of things. She tends to make up stories about why she is here. I chose her when the program first began because of what happened in the foster care system with her and another young girl. She attempted to kill her and I knew if I could help her with her heartbreak, I could help others.”

“Why haven’t you, you know, gotten ‘rid’ of her?” Karissa used air quotes for the last few words. Dr. Hedges laughed again. 

“You make it sound like we off people who are difficult, Miss Jacobs! Is that what Rose thinks?” Dr. Hedges clasped her hands together on her desk. “Anyone who fails, they go to another facility, that’s all. It is a stricter program. We never give up on anyone. That’s why Rose still has a home here. I can not figure out how to fix her.” 

“Why do you keep letting her stay? Why isn’t she at the other facility?”

Dr. Hedges hesitated. Karissa realized she may have gone too far with this question. It was highly inappropriate; she was a doctor after all and patient confidentiality still existed. But Dr. Hedges surprised her by standing and crossing over to the window, glancing out at the courtyard. 

“You are not wrong, Miss Jacobs. I probably should send Rose elsewhere. Rose was one of my first patients, as I mentioned. Right around the time the program became mandatory, a few years ago. I also had lost my mother when I was young. I felt for the poor child. She was very alone in this world as I had been at her age.” Her voice quivered slightly. “Foster care was no place for her. Clearly it gave her a violent streak. They had no clue how to help someone like her.” Hedges cleared her throat. “She is the only one of that first class that remains here. The rest have thrived. I am quite proud of them.” Hedges turned back around, crossing to her chair and resting her hands on the back. “I like a perfect score, Miss Jacobs. I want Rose to succeed. Something has to work. I hate to lose her like I did April.”

“Who is April?”

“My, this is very inappropriate,” Dr Hedges said as if suddenly springing back to reality. “I assumed you knew. April was Rose’s friend. April is at...the other facility.” The way she ended the sentence made Karissa’s throat clench. 

“She mentioned her. Just not by name.” 

“Sure, of course. Well,” Dr. Hedges said, stepping out from behind the desk. “You are all set. I look forward to hearing about your progress.”

“Thank you,” Karissa said, standing. They shook hands, Dr. Hedges holding on for a moment. She watched Karissa with curious eyes, taking her in. There was a question on her face but she didn’t ask it. Instead Hedges let out a breath and forced a smile, dropping the handshake. 

*********

“She is not feeling well, Miss Jacobs,” Thirtysix told Karissa when she came looking for Rose. 

“What’s wrong with her? Can’t I just go in?”

“She is in the infirmary, Miss Jacobs,” Thirtysix continued. She was the B blocks housekeeper of sorts and Karissa had barely spoken to her until now even though she cleaned her room every day. 

“Well, do you know what’s wrong? Where is the infirmary?”

“Miss Jacobs.” There was a cold snap to Thirtysix’s voice Karissa hadn’t heard before in any of the Numbers. “She is not in her room and will most likely join you at another time once she is well.”

“But why can’t I just…”

 “Dr. Hedges is here to take care of so you needn’t worry.”

“Dr. Hedges is here taking care of Rose? So that must mean it is serious.”

“Miss Jacobs, if you would excuse me,” Thirtysix said, her smile returning. “I have work to do.” Karissa watched as the Number pushed her cart down to the next room and entered it, shutting the door behind her with a loud click. Rose, sick? That seems likely due to her thinness and overall poor state but also odd. The facility was extremely clean and Karissa was fairly certain no one had gotten ill in the months. Trying to push it from her mind, Karissa went into dinner alone and sat with her lasagna, another favorite, in the farthest corner from the door to watch the entire room of patients weave in and out. She wasn’t sure what she was waiting for; maybe Rose would come bounding in, a chocolate cupcake in each hand, healthy as can be. Instead, her plate was clean and she wandered to the meeting room, down the hall with the sterile paintings, for another group therapy session. 

Lying awake that night, Karissa thought of how she only had a few days left of the program before taking the final evaluation. It was explained in the packet that it was a series of questions with one of the Numbers regarding how she felt about the tragedy that once plagued her. Going over what had happened to her in the past year, her stomach didn’t clench, her throat stayed open, no anger boiled over. She did feel better. The time away and alone had helped to heal her and realize there was much more out there than following selfish Brett and Ashlee with two e’s around for the rest of their lives. Maybe she would go back and get the theater degree her aunt always encouraged her to do. Maybe move to another city, start at another paper or magazine or just travel for a while. She did have inheritance from Aunt Helen. 

“What am I saying?” Karissa said, bolting upright. “Rose is missing, there’s something up with anyone who gets out and there is no way I am leaving here without the ability to feel any fucking emotions.” She swung her legs over the bed and pulled on the clothes she had worn the day she entered the facility. Slipping into her shoes, she went to open the door. It didn’t budge. It was locked.

“What the fuck?” Karissa tried again and the knob still didn’t budge. She stood staring blankly at the door. This was the first time she had gotten up at night but never had she imagined she would be locked into her room. She raised her fist to bring down on the door but paused. If she made a fuss, who knew what would happen to her? “I might not be able to leave,” she said quietly. That’s insane, she thought. It may be mandated but they can’t make me stay against my will, can they? The thought set off alarm bells in her head. 

Backing away from the door in a trance, Karissa found her bed when it hit the back of her knees and sat down hard. She recalled a part of the packet that said if you are a flight risk, you may be subject to extreme measures to keep you in check. Perhaps the locked door was one of them. She had asked too many questions. As her head fell against the pillow, she tried to take several deep breaths to calm herself. Tomorrow she would ask her final question: to be dismissed early. She would take Rose with her. That shouldn’t be a problem, she was ready. The program worked just fine but she was done with it. She didn’t want to stay and become a robot like Dr. Hedges wanted or a waif like Rose. She had to get out.

The next morning, Karissa knocked on Rose’s door as soon as she was up and dressed. She was taking Rose with her. No more of this research on this poor girl that couldn’t get it together. Karissa could take her to a real hospital. Rose’s conditional was mental, not about a broken heart. She didn’t belong here.

After several tries, Karissa headed to the dining room to see if Rose was there. She wasn’t. Not in the common room or Cry Room or anywhere else. Karissa stopped Thirtysix who was doing her morning cleanup.

“Hey, Thirtysix,” Karissa said, jogging towards her as she was about to enter a room. “Have you seen Rose?”

“Miss Sawyer was released last night, Miss Jacobs,” Thirtysix answered. 

“Released? That’s not possible. You said she was just sick.”

“It is possible, Miss Jacobs. She has left,” Thirtysix answered stonily. She turned back to the room, pulling her cart in behind her and shutting the door. 

Karissa swayed on her feet. Dr. Hedges must have taken her. There was no way Rose was released early. They must have taken her. 

“What are you looking for?” a voice called out as Karissa raced towards the front of the building. Karissa turned to see Marcus, his orange hair starting to fade. 

“Marcus, I think they took Rose to that other facility,” Karissa stammered. “Do you know who I could ask about that?” Marcus paled. “What is it?”

“K, I don’t know about another facility and I didn’t know Rose really well. But I heard them take her last night. She was screaming pretty loudly. I was sitting up watching TV and heard her.”

“Screaming? How did I not hear that?” Karissa said.

“Soundproof doors, kid,” Marcus said pointing to a room door down the hall. “But they definitely took her. She’s gone, K.”

“She can’t be gone! It’s not like they murdered her and buried her body in the garden!”

Marcus looked at Karissa for a moment. When she caught his eyes, she got the message. 

“Where do they take them, Marcus?”

“I really don’t know,” he said. “But I’ve heard there’s a cliff out in the woods. It’s real deep, like a canyon. I heard they toss them off there. They burn it every few months.”

Karissa almost laughed. “No, Rose said that, too. It’s just a rumor. They would be caught and shut down.”

“Maybe,” he said shrugging. “Would you arrest people getting rid of the weak links though? Wouldn’t you want the sad people like us off this planet? Think about it, kid. If you could rid the world of sadness, wouldn’t you?” He looked at her hard. Karissa started to feel panic rise. “But you can’t rid the world of sadness entirely, you can’t fight a war on sadness, can’t kill a feeling no matter how they try and spin it. But you can kill a person. Pretty simple way of bringing up the average happiness. If I were you, I’d stop asking questions and start pretending to be a joyful and productive member of society.” Marcus strolled off back to the common room and plopped in his spot on the couch. Karissa stood frozen for a moment before continuing to race towards the exit. 

When she reached reception, she fell against the glass, startling the receptionist.

“What is it?” she said. 

“I am leaving. Can you please open the door?”

“We don’t have any discharges today.”

“I know but I am leaving.”

“You can’t leave,” the receptionist said. Karissa watched as she motioned behind her back to two men in the office. 

“I saw that,” Karissa said. “You can’t keep me here. I am able to leave by choice. It’s my human right.”

“Oh, honey,” the receptionist said. “Who told you that?”

“What? No one told me that. I’m not committed or anything! Just let me out. I want to go home.” Dread filling Karissa’s chest. “NOW!” 

The two men were heading towards her out of the office door. They were Numbers, security. The receptionist gave her a sad smile as the men grabbed her by the arms and started to pull her back. 

“Wait, no! NO! This isn’t right! I want to leave! Call Dr. Hedges! I need to speak with her!” Her sneakers squeaked along the pristine floor as they dragged her back to her room.

**********

“Miss Jacobs, I had hoped we would not meet again.” It was two days later and Karissa was back in her office.

“Where is Rose?” Karissa shouted.

“Karissa,” Dr. Hedges said, softly. She was sitting on her desk right in front of her this time. “Rose failed for the last time. We could not afford to try again. It was killing her.”

“So you murdered her.”

Dr. Hedge’s face didn’t changed. “We took her to a place where she will get the care she needs. She belongs there instead of here.”

“Where is it?”
“Karissa, I am very disappointed to hear you tried to leave. You were so close to completing the program with flying colors. But you questioned my methods and we can not have that out there in the world.”’

“I failed, did I? Are you going to kill me? Are you going to send me to where Rose is?”

“Neither,” Dr. Hedges said, staring directly at Karissa. “You are going to another location. A small city. It’s coastal. Very nice but can be cold in the winter. There is no program there. You are finished with your treatment.”

“Why am I going there then?”

“To stay with the other doubters. Our troublemakers, if you will,” Dr Hedges said coldly. “The world is changing, Karissa, and you are not changing with it. This program is the future. The only future. We are building a superior race for the future where no one gets hurt or can use their feelings as weapons. We will have less war, better politics, cleaner relationships. Won’t that be a bright place to live?”

“You are taking away everyone’s emotions! Everyone will just be, just be statues! We aren’t made of stone!”

“No, you aren’t.” Dr Hedges was steady and calm. It made Karissa even more manic. “You should try to be. However, you will be happy in this city. It is full of those like you. Those who didn’t believe in the method, in the program. This new world doesn’t need people like you, Karissa.”

“Of course it does! That’s the entire point, isn’t it? To feel something and everything? What is wrong with you?” Karissa was stammering at this point, terrified and desperate and knowing she only had moments left before they took her again. 

“Nothing is wrong with me,” Dr Hedges said. She was emotionless in her delivery now. “I am whole and strong and complete. I will continue to succeed. You will go with the other doubters to live out your days.”

“I’ll report you to the police. You can’t make me move to another city. I’m not going there. You can’t make me disappear! I have rights as a citizen and human being! ”

“You don’t understand, Karissa. When we take you there, we take your memory. We take every piece of your identity we can. You will be a blank space there, living in a coastal town as you think you always have with no desire to ever leave. You see,” Dr. Hedges’ voice bore into Karissa now, “every resident is in a catatonic state. It is a land of vegetables, Miss Jacobs.” She gave a head nod to the door. Karissa bolted up out of her chair and charged at Dr. Hedges. She steered quickly out of the way, letting Karissa fall into her desk. Karissa bounced back up and lunged again just as security burst into the room. They grabbed her again and she felt a prick in her upper arm. 

“Even though you wanted to keep your emotions, we took them anyway. The program never fails, Karissa. I’m sure someone told you about the cliff we toss people over, didn’t they? That’s a fun rumor we started a while back.” Karissa felt her eyes grow heavy and her knees start to buckle. She tried to form words but her tongue felt swollen. Her legs went numb. She was being paralyzed. She could only glare with the strength she had left as Dr. Hedges leaned in closer. 

“A cliff is so primal. Silly, isn’t it? A cliff you could discover easily. It would be more accessible, messy. We don’t need a cliff. We are more sophisticated than that.” Dr. Hedges grinned wickedly. “Rose put up a fight like you did. Frail little thing, full of emotions. I couldn't take looking at my failure in the face any longer. She had to go. She’d want to be with April. I did the right thing.” She stroked Karissa’ cheek with the back of her hand. Karissa tried to twist away but was growing more numb and tired. “I always do the right thing. Goodbye, Miss Jacobs. Enjoy the ocean air.” 

Karissa saw the door shut as the security dragged her from it. Slowly the rest of the hallway closed in until there was nothing but a pinprick of light left. Karissa let her eyes close and it all slipped away. Her last thought was that of Brett eating dinner at Ashlee’s, not wondering where she was, never thinking about her or missing her. Never coming to look for her. And her heart cracked open one last time.