I let the sight of her anger wash over me, unconcerned for the most part. The 5 inch re-enforced perspex was enough to reassure me neither her fists nor teeth could come near. I smoothed my features into feigned nonchalance before turning back to the attending Psychologist. His eyes where fixed on some incomprehensibly complex readings, graphs and numbers washing white over a deep blue screen. The computer sprouted wires like the tendrils of spreading mould, leaching into the perspex through metal plated re-enforced holes. They were affixed to various spots on the young woman's body; inner arm, lower back, neck, forehead. The places to which they were attached were bruised deep indigo and purple, clotted with dried blood.
'How many days since she last tried to remove the nodes?' I asked.
The attending Psychologist twitched, clearly loath to be distracted. He gestured wordlessly to a clipboard hanging from a bolt on the glass.
I walked over, closing the distance between myself and the glass with feigned indifference. Against my better judgement I let my eyes alight on her gaping mouth. She was screaming and raving at me, spittle flying and speckling the glass. What words she chose to fling my way I couldn't fathom; the perspex was sound prove.
I tore my eyes away and lifted the clipboard. It followed a simple fifteen minute observation procedure, required through out the day. I ran my finger down the comments section, noting the erratic sleep cycles of no more than a half hour, highs and lows of irrational activity and the spikes of mania that always coincided with my visits. No mention of removing the nodes most of this last month. An activity she had been prone to doing whenever the desire to inflict pain on herself overcame her.
I flicked the page over and frowned. I re-read the comment for 4:45am 14th April, a growing bubble of hot anger growing with every word.
I stormed over to the attending Psychologist and slapped the clipboard onto his desk pointing to the comment he had left that day.
'Read it.' I snapped.
His eyes glazed after being torn away from the constant output from the blue-white screen, struggling to focus on mere paper. He squinted and complied.
'Patient removed nodes, patient sedated and nodes reattached...' He paused, a guilty expression finally had the grace to pucker his features.
'Keep going.' I snarled.
'Patient received 100 volts for twenty consecutive seconds for re-education.'
'What the fuck is that?'
The attending Psychologist squirmed but replied with a haughty air.
'She was pulling out the nodes every other hour, it was getting out of hand.'
'So you fucking tortured her?'
The Psychologist rolled his eyes.
'Most would say this is all torture, Micheian.'
That shut me up. I turned back to the tiny perspex box and the gibbering shrieking woman inside.
'It's not all bad,' The psychologist grinned. 'Her antibodies cured a rare form of degenerative autoimmune disease today. You're going to be a rich man once we patent it and ship it out to Stovocania.' He stretched and checked his watch. As if on cue his replacement for the next shift wandered in through the vaulted lift doors.
'Just think,' He continued, rising to complete the final observation of his watch, 'All those preciouses third world children you are going to save. You'll be a hero, and no one will even spare a thought for the measures you took to get here.'
I nodded, watching as he scribbled down her blood pressure, cortisol levels, how she was responding to the most resent illness she had been pumped full of, and finally, the increased mania that coincided with all my visits.
'You aught to stop coming.' The Psychologist mused. 'The mental strain and physical exhaustion you induce in her with your visits pushes back our research by about a day each time.'
I nodded again, as numb as ever on these monthly visits I made to my little sister. How could I stop coming, when she had made me millions over the last fifteen years.
'I need to make sure she knows I still care about her.' I muttered, staring, as some drug began working on her and she slipped into unconsciousness.