Path of Jen: Bloodborne (16 page)

A man’s muffled voice called to her, “Jenna.
Are you awake?”

“
Who is that?”
she wondered.

“Jenna? Can you hear me?” the man’s voice
asked again. It was strangely muffled, but familiar.

A sliver of light intruded into her
comfortable refuge and she tried to raise her arm to block it out.
Her arm was pinned. Suddenly, Jen realized she was lying down and
there was someone leaning over her, peering into her face. She
opened her eyes and saw a gloved hand pull back away from her face.
“What are you doing?” she shouted. “Leave me alone!”

“You are awake,” the muffled voice said. Jen
blinked and the room came into focus. She was in a hospital room
and there was clear plastic from floor to ceiling in place all
around her bed. The doctor, who’s voice she recognized, was
standing next to her bed. He was wearing a fully enclosed
biological and chemical resistant suit. His face was visible
through a clear panel in the front of the head portion, and he
appeared to be smiling at her. “I’m glad to see you,” he said. “You
gave me quite a scare.”

“What happened?” asked Jen as her head began
to clear. She looked down her body and saw that she was secured to
the bed with heavy duty straps. “Why am I tied down?”

“It’s okay, Jenna. You are safe,” he
explained. “You had a reaction to the vaccine and suffered a
significant fever episode. Because of the fever, you had a seizure.
I thought it was best to tie you down for your own safety. I’ll
have the nurses remove the restraints, okay? Can you tell me how
you feel?"

“Umm, okay I guess. I’m not sure yet." She
wiggled her toes and fingers, and took an internal inventory of
aches and pains. “I am sore…that’s about it. I’m hungry too, I
guess.”

The doctor smiled. “That is a great sign.
Okay, I’ll have the nurses remove the restraints, but you’ll have
to stay in bed until I can run some more tests. I’m going to give
you an antibiotic to help,” he said and he inserted a small needle
into her IV.

“
That looks just like the vaccine,”
thought Jen.
“Hmm, I guess it’s not though. That wouldn’t make
any sense."

A moment later, two nurses, also wearing bio
suits, came in and removed her restraints. One of them tinkered
with the equipment Jen was hooked up to while the other left and
returned with a covered tray of food. Jen wondered what all the
fuss with suits and plastic barriers was about, but her hunger got
the best of her, and she focused on the delicious smelling food in
front of her.

About two hours later, the doctor returned
and took some blood. Jen asked, “Doctor, what time is it? Was I
unconscious long?"

“Jenna, you were fighting that fever for
nearly two days. Right now it is…,” he tried to look at his watch
and then ducked through the plastic barrier to see the wall clock.
He returned and said, “It is eleven o’clock in the morning. Now get
some rest. Your body needs it.”

For the next three days, Jen was not allowed
out of the bed except to stand for a few minutes when she was sore,
and to use the bathroom. The doctor visited her every four hours
and gave her injections each day. Imam Hassan came to see her often
and spoke with her about the booklet Maria had left. He seemed to
truly believe in the rhetoric they were promoting. Jen did her best
to seem agreeable, but more than once she feigned fatigue or
sickness to escape further discussion on the terrible subject.

On the fourth day, Jenna was discharged from
the hospital room and taken by wheelchair to her apartment. Inside
she found that it had been redecorated and cleaned. Her bed,
although the same size, was now adorned with fancy pillows and a
colorful blanket. There was a plush rug on the floor, flowers on
the desk, and even a small TV! Jen’s jaw dropped. “What is all of
this?” she asked the orderly who was leaving the room with the
empty wheelchair.

“I believe it is meant as a show of respect
toward you,” he said. He didn’t wait for a follow up question. He
hurried through the door and closed it.

Jen hurried to the TV and turned on the power
button. It was a small flat screen TV, sitting on top of her desk,
and there was a small remote next to it. She picked up the remote
and tried clicking through the channels. She was disappointed to
see that there was only one active channel. It played a video of an
Imam extolling the virtues of martyrdom, and recounting stories of
suicide bombers and jihadis who died fighting against western
influence. She turned it off.

On the wall, next to the bathroom door, hung
a new dress. This dress was white like the others, but this one
also had intricate gold stitching around the sleeves and neckline.
The hijab was similarly decorated. On the floor was a pair of
beautiful white leather shoes with gold stitching. On the desk,
between the TV and the flowers, there was a jewelry box. Jen opened
it and gasped. There were gold rings with sparkling jewels, a thick
gold necklace, two sets of bejeweled gold earrings, and several
gold bracelets. There was a note in the lid.

“
Jenna, these jewels and fine clothes
belong to you. They belong to Paradise."

Jen excitedly took the jewelry box into the
bathroom and tried each piece on. On the sink was a makeup kit.
There were lipsticks, powder foundation, a new eyeliner pencil, and
a larger set of eyeshadows. There was also an expensive looking
brush set. Jen looked at the shower and saw an assortment of soaps,
shampoos, conditioners, and bubble bath.
“Oh Sarah, I wish you
could see all of this! They think I’m some kind of
royalty!"

Jen ran a bath and poured a healthy dose of
bubble bath in it. As she waited for the tub to fill, she took the
jewelry and makeup out of the bathroom and put them on the desk in
front of the TV. She turned the TV on and turned the volume up. Jen
walked back into the bathroom and closed the door. She undressed
completely and slipped into the soapy tub. The water was a bit too
hot at first, but she forced herself to stay put until it became
more bearable. She turned off the water and sat back in the tub.
“It feels so good,”
she thought as she sunk down in the
water to her neck. She closed her eyes and start singing. She sang
every pop song she could think of, and threw in some country too.
Jen stayed in the tub until the water began to get cold. When she
stood up to get out she felt renewed and exhausted at the same
time. “Okay, time for this princess to take a nap,” she said out
loud. She wrapped herself in one of the big towels hanging next to
the shower and yawned. She nearly lost the towel as she stretched
her arms above her head, but she caught it. She ran to the bed and
jumped on top of the soft pillows. She fell asleep right there on
top of the covers with slightly damp hair and only a towel to keep
her warm.

The next day, Jen woke up feeling hungrier
than she had since arriving at the hospital. Her stomach growled
and she looked around the room for something to eat. As expected
there was nothing. Jen told herself breakfast was coming soon and
started doing her morning exercises. She quickly fatigued and
stopped before completing the entire routine. “Wow, this thing took
more out of me than I thought." There was a knock on the door and
Jen found Maria waiting outside in the hall without a hospital mask
on. Jen gave her a winning smile and invited her in.

“Jenna, you aren’t even dressed! Come on.
Aren’t you hungry? I am!" Maria chided. She sat on the bed and
raised her eyebrows at the new furnishings. “Very nice!"

Jen shrugged and said, “I know, right?" She
picked up her hospital mask and asked, “Are we done with
these?"

“Yes!” said Maria. “The doctor said we do not
need them anymore."

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” said Jen with
a smile. She tossed it in the trash and took her new clothes into
the bathroom. Five minutes later she came out looking like a new
person.

“Jenna, you look divine! Masha, Allah.” said
Maria. “There is more to do, though. Remember your new name." She
handed Jen the box of jewelry, and the makeup kit. Jen rolled her
eyes, but Maria turned her around and gave her a push toward the
bathroom. She followed after Jen and helped her finish getting
ready. “Do you know what the soldiers are saying about the Holy
Virgin?"

Jen held perfectly still as she leaned
forward, close to the mirror, and said, “No, tell me." She
continued applying her eyeliner.

Maria smiled mischievously, and told her,
“They say you are called Paradise because to take your virginity is
equal to reaching Heaven." She raised an eyebrow and waited for
Jenna to react to the scandalous rumor.

Jen choked and coughed. She had to hold the
pencil away from her face for fear of gouging her eye as she tried
to reclaim her poise. “Really? That’s so crude!"

Maria laughed and seemed to thoroughly enjoy
Jen’s reaction. “Well, even so,” laughed Maria. “If this is the
effect your legend has on these soldiers. Imagine what it will do
to inspire jihadis across the globe!”

Jen paused and swallowed. She had leaned
forward and was applying eyeliner to her other eyelid. Her hand
began to tremble and she had to stop again. She stood up and
grasped the sink for support.

Maria noticed the discomfort and placed her
hands on Jen’s shoulders. “I know it’s a lot to process, Jenna. I
didn’t mean to upset you." Jen tuned and gave Maria a sad
smile.

“I appreciate your concern, Maria. I’m okay."
She turned back to the mirror and finished applying her makeup.
“Jesus, please help me escape this place…soon,”
she
thought.

It took another hour before Maria was
satisfied with Jena’s outfit, makeup, and jewelry. They left the
room together and walked toward the cafeteria for breakfast. In the
hallway, and then in the cafeteria, everyone who saw Jen smiled and
reached out to touch her dress. It was like she was a celebrity
suddenly. She found it unnerving, but Maria assured her it was
okay.

“You have to let them have this Jenna,” she
said. “You give them hope." Jen swallowed her fear and discomfort
and obeyed.

That was the way it was for the next three
weeks. As the new year approached, Jen was starting to feel more at
ease in her new role, but she was also getting more pressure to
vocalize her beliefs. During her meetings with the Imam, he coached
her into more radical dialogue. Jen found herself repeating
horrible phrases, condemning Christianity and denouncing America.
Finally, on what she privately observed as Christmas day, Imam
Hassan pressured her to record a message that he scripted. She
couldn’t say no. There was a professional camera crew set up in the
mosque and high ranking soldiers watching.

Jen sat in an ornate chair, dressed in an
ornate and dazzling white dress. She wore a similarly decorated
hijab which was wrapped to cover all but her makeup enhanced eyes.
She also wore fine jewelry and expensive shoes. Over and over she
read the script that the Imam had written. It was a declaration of
war upon non-believers, a condemnation of western influence, and a
call to arms by Jihadis across the globe. Jen hated every second of
it, and hoped that her bad acting and accented Farsi would cause
them to scrap the entire production.

When the production crew finally had what
they wanted, the Imam signaled that Jen was done. She stood and to
her horror, everyone in the mosque surrounded her and began
chanting, “Allahu Akbar!" She stood there, frozen, while the men
shouted praise to Allah for what she had just done. Jen began to
cry. That sent them into a frenzy. They interpreted her tears as
being overcome with emotion for their cause. The walls vibrated
with the shouted chant of “Allahu Akbar!” over and over. When she
was finally able to leave, she needed Maria to help her down the
sidewalk. She was trembling so bad that her legs wanted to give
out.
“What have I done?”
she thought.
“God, forgive me!
What have I done?"

Najid sat in his office trying to concentrate
on work, but his mind kept drifting to his daughter, Jena. It was
nearing her eighteenth birthday and there had been no news from the
government for several months now. He sighed and pushed the papers
he was reviewing aside. He clicked on the Internet Explorer icon on
his desktop and waited for the home screen to load. Najid’s MSNBC
news feed appeared on the screen and he rolled through the top
stories. Near the top there was a headline that caught his eye.
“Queen of Suicide Bombers Threaten’s Apocalypse - Is a Dirty Bomb
Coming to the US?" Najid sighed and kept scrolling.
“They
sensationalize everything,”
he thought.

He selected the Favorites tab and clicked on
CNN. The main story was about a billionaire missing in a plane
crash. The headlines down the left column included a headline
similar to the one on MSNBC. It read, “Suicide Queen Calls All
Jihadis." Najid returned to his Favorites tab and selected Fox
News. The main headline read, “Mother of all Suicide Bombers."
Najid was about to close the browser when the corresponding photo
caught his eye. He leaned closer to the screen and then pushed
back. “Oh no!" Najid’s heart raced, and his hands trembled. He
reached for his phone and knocked over the cup of pens sitting near
his computer monitor. His fingers refused to cooperate with his
mind, and he had to try three times before dialing the correct
number. The phone rang and he stared at the computer screen while
he waited for Fouzia to pick up.

After several rings, Fouzia’s voice mail
picked up. He hung up. Najid ran his hands through his hair and
slumped over his desk. Unable to wait, he slammed his hands on his
desk top, grabbed his coat from behind the door, and ran out of his
office. He ignored the questioning looks from his coworkers as he
stepped into the elevator and headed for the parking garage. He
tapped his hands again his legs as he rode the car down
excruciatingly slow.
“It couldn’t be her, could it? No way!”
he thought. But it was all bravado. He knew those eyes could not
belong to anyone else. “The Suicide Queen is my daughter,” he
whispered.