SWITCHBOARD

[transmittable]

If you'd like to ask the Transmitter something over the phone, go right ahead! The Transmitter will answer the phone as soon as she's available. Leaving messages is impossible, given how old these phones are, but you should be able to reach her at almost all hours.

Comments are screened for privacy; all Patients are offered confidentiality, didn't you know?

Comments

[imaginex]

No, no... I'd hope you wouldn't also be dreaming about shadows.

I meant, um...

...

How are you feeling?

[transmittable]

You're talking after...all that today?

Uhh... Tired...but more physically and mentally than emotionally, like, compared to last time? So, I guess that's an improvement.

[imaginex]

I see.

Will this keep happening to you? I assume incentives will likely be brought up every week, at the rate we're going.

[transmittable]

Yes.

They like it too much to stop, just like I like...ha, amiably talking with you guys too much to.

[imaginex]

...

Could this end up killing you somehow?

[transmittable]

Oh, naw, nothing like that. It'll just...never be very pleasant.

[imaginex]

If you don't mind me asking, what does it feel like?

[transmittable]

While it's happening, or...after...?

[imaginex]

... I suppose during.

[transmittable]

[ ... ]

Like... I'm underwater. I'm underwater, and I can taste it, the...the salt in my mouth, filling my lungs. Pricking my eyes. Except it's like daggers, and they're hot. Like something's squeezing on my head and screaming in my ears. And I can't move, and I can't...breathe, but I don't have to breathe. No matter how much it feels like I'm drowning, I won't die.

It keeps saying, give up, give in. Let it all go. Drift out to sea. But I can't choose anything, I'm just...trapped. Even if I wanted to...

[ The Transmitter trails off, and she takes a deep breath. ]

It's...something like that.

[imaginex]

[The comparison is different - as Sakura expected - but there's a reason she asked, and she feels her stomach give a lurch]

It sounds terrifying.

[transmittable]

[ She lets out a humorless laugh. ]

Yeah, it is. It...used to be nicer, but...well, not anymore. Some mix of location and...awareness.

[imaginex]

I'm a little surprised anything about that could be considered nice.

[A pause]

But it... doesn't sound like... [Another pause, trying to find the words]

Like pain is the point to it.

[transmittable]

[ ... ]

It's not. It'd be better if it was.

[imaginex]

... No.

I doubt it would be.

Don't wish that on yourself.

[transmittable]

It'd be better than what the point to it is.

[imaginex]

I see.

I ... Um, I can only speak from my own experiences, but... regardless, I don't think I or anyone else would wish that torment on you.

[transmittable]

...You're sweet, Committed. It's...thanks.

[imaginex]

... No.

[There's a sad smile in her voice]

I don't know if it's truly that.

I guess I feel better knowing someone else doesn't have to... know what those things feel like.

... Or I hope that's how I feel.

[transmittable]

I don't know how you define it, but...I think that sure sounds like being a sweet person.

[imaginex]

[... She might've walked into that one, but at least it makes her smile more honestly]

Thank you.

I'll talk to you later, alright? Please feel free to call if you need anything.

[transmittable]

I'm not really supposed to...

[ ... ]

Thanks. Bye, Committed.