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1-Rebel Faery
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(One)
Glaringly bright white lights hang overhead on a high,slanted ceiling. A band attached to my wrist has odd symbols written on it. And the thin mat beneath me does nothing to keep me comfortable on the icy tile floor. I'm wearing nothing,not a stitch of clothing anywhere,and it doesn't feel....weird. It feels natural. Scientists walk around the mats,taking notes,pointing to the guards,motioning to each other,examining us,smiling,nodding.
We were told not to look anywhere. To talk to no one. To keep our arms at our sides. To not cover ourselves or others in modesty. Around here,there's practically no such thing as modesty. A scientist walks past me,a female this time. All male scientists for the last 10 minutes. Laughing and joking. That's the bad thing about being a 13 year old girl. Your body is starting to mature,like you should be. And you're more modest.
Anyways,this female motions to a guard,who immediately pulls me up by me hair,making me wince,pulling out a few strands.I must stay silent,though. It means punishment otherwise. The thought almost makes me tremble. The scientist,with long,curved talons of fingernails points to a plain black door. The guard flanks me to the door,and I feel a tug of fear in my gut. I don't know what lies behind this door. And that is sheer terror. ANYTHING can lie between that one push inside. ANYTHING.
But,no one seems to care,since I'm technically bought and owned by the government since I was about 5. My parents lost me on the street one day,and they later got money compensating my "death by truck". In truth,I was no where near the road.
The guard pushes open the door,and I stiffly walk inside. A young woman sits by a thick metal tray,a large machine,and a tray of tools. The guard backs out of the room,bowing like a butler,and pushes the door open again,and it clangs shut. Hmm. It swung open so cleanly,but it closed so hard...
The woman smiles. "I'm Dr. Celuyes. I'll be sure you're fit for your future tasks." I don't smile back or nod. I've always been wary of other people, and this woman is no exception. She makes me do simple exercises. Cough. Jumping jacks. Then, she examines me head to toe. This is always embarrassing to me, no matter how many times it happens. Then, she tells me to lay down on the metal tray.
This is when my brain stops me, and pure terror is in my heart. Every year, there are examinations like this one. But not once have I had to lay on a metal tray like that. Not one test. In the 8 years I've lived here, not once has that metal tray been there.
(Two)
Thoughts race though my head. Should I? What would happen if I said no? What if I didn't get on it, and ran?
The woman stares at me, starting to look slightly impatient.
I take a deep breath. The woman keeps staring at me. "No." I say finally. Dr. Celuyes' eyes light up in a new fire in my defiance. "Fine." She says. Out of her pocket she pulls a thin, wispy device. No thicker than a sheet of paper. The doctor grabs my arm,and jabs the device into it. Just as the device makes a small beep, I realize what it is. Electricity courses though my body, and I fall to ground, writhing in an unbelievable pain. It's a shocker. Of course. Everyone but us, the tests, carry one of these. I'm one of the only ones who hasn't been touched by these devices.
I continue writhing and shrieking, and the woman pulls me by my hair on the metal tray. She slides it up the platform, and she slides it in the huge machine. A loud whirring noise comes on, and something slides against my head,making me shiver. More things slide out of the machine, and attach to my legs and arms. They feel like handcuffs.
The machine starts up,and a hissing noise comes from the thing on my head. Speakers pop out of the machine. "Welcome to MAD,or Mutations Associations Development. We have many industries that most children or teenagers are assigned to. You have been assigned to the "testing" section, meaning you are going to have many tests run on you! We will find out about your personal habits,and general habits. You will have a great home and many more fun mutant friends! Please hold still while we extract information."
From where? I think, but I feel the head-thing gripping my head. The tray slides down a ramp, and I pant,like I've run a mile or something. What have they done to me?
(Three)
I lay on the tray,shaking. This is all new to me.
I'm....a mutant? I think. What's my mutation, then? Curiosity ripples through me, a gentle wave of thoughts. Can I do something I don't know about? What is it? What's my power?
But something halts what I'm thinking about. If I did have a mutation, wouldn't I have seen in in the past 13 years I've lived on Earth? Or experienced it, if it was something like a power?
Dr. Celuyes taps her foot,shocker still clenched in her fist. "Up." She says, with no hint of the caring woman I saw before. Hard, ice- blue eyes stare me down, daring to make a wrong move or make a dash for the exit. She stiffly hands me a uniform. It's a stretchy jumpsuit, with 10 places for my fingers and 10 for my toes. It's a simple black, with a strip of grey on the sides of the suit. A white bold "E" is in the middle of my chest,and the jumpsuit has one pocket. Handy.
I slide it on, and it feels baggy for a second. It molds to my body, encasing me. It makes me jump.How did it do that? I wonder, looking down at the suit. Dr. Celuyes motions to a hallway that I didn't notice before. A man opens a door, and grabs my arm. He starts off fast down the hallway, and I almost have to run to keep up. "Your section is this way." He says with a sharp tone,and continues with his race-walker pace.
We zip by rooms full of kids and scientists, but not a lot of other people. Finally, the man slows his pace as we get to a large door with the big letter "E" over it, white like mine is. The doors slowly start to slide open, and the man says, "Welcome to the Experiment Section."
(Four)
The doors slide open slowly with a slight hissing noise. As soon as they open, the man guides me inside,then rushes back out.
I'm left alone in a plain white room. It's gleaming. Not a speck of dust,or an once of color. The most colorful thing is my grey jumpsuit.
The room lurches suddenly downward,and I'm bashed into the wall as I slip on the cool tile. As I scream, the room zips downwards, making my heart stop. Doors slide open at what seems to be the front,and I walk outside cautiously. After that roller coaster of what seemed to be a large elevator, I wouldn't be surprised if I found a crocodile in the next room.
The light from the next room hurts my eyes as I walk down a hallway. It gets lighter in some part, and darker in others. It's rather annoying, actually. It takes such a long time just to find the way out. It's like a maze, I think. If this is the Experiments section, where are the mutated plants? And people? And scientists?
After about what I estimate to be half an hour, I'm truly agitated. I need to throw something, or slap someone. This is so long and boring. It's boring me. I stamp my foot like a little girl on the floor. Hard. "OW!" I say, and rub my foot. Something came off on my foot,because the floor doesn't look like smooth tile. It's concrete.
Why would they disguise concrete? I wonder. Then, I see it. Below the thin wisp of tile on my foot, there's blood.
(Five)
I nearly scream. Wildly leaping and spinning around, I wave my foot in the air. I want the tile OFF. NOW.
I take a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. Slowly and gingerly, I peel off the tile. I hold the tile like it’s toxic. Which to me, it is.
Really, I don’t think I mind blood. But that just make me freak out a little bit. Seeing something like blood in this polished center. It makes me shiver, but I just can’t put my finger on it why it’s so creepy to me.
I awkwardly shove the tile back into its small niche in the floor. It sits there, crookedly, like a reminder of what’s underneath it. I walk away, trying not to look at it. But my eyes seen to wander back to the tile, and I feel like it’s going to get up and walk over to me.
I have to stop obsessing about it. It’s only a tile, I tell my nervous mind, It’s only a tile. But my mind retaliates. It’s not just a tile! It tells me. It’s a tile. With BLOOD underneath it.
Sheesh. Trying to keep thoughts out of your head is really hard. I sigh, and try to avoid the tile for what seems to be two hours. As soon as I see the tile in this maze of a room, I skitter away, nervous and all these other crazy emotions. I peer nervously around the corner, and walk away. Great! Now I’m scared of a tile, and can’t find my way out of this maze!
I roll my eyes, and try to get as many paths figured out as I can. I try as many things as I can to make attempts to figure my way out of this mixed up maze. Ripping fabric from my jumpsuit doesn’t seem to work to mark which paths I've taken. It’s pointless; I’m clawing at tough fabric every couple of minutes or so. Neither does ripping hair from my head. It hurts too much, and wispy strands don’t really hold up well and show against a wall or tile.
I’m not starting to tire, but I think I’ve been in this maze for at least two hours. I try as many paths as I can, but this strategy proves to be somewhat pointless.
I roam around for hours, or maybe just minutes that feel like hours, trying to work out a logical system of getting out. Nothing seems to work, which frustrates me, making me irritable and irrational. There HAS to be a way out of here. I need to start to play around with more logic. Maybe it follows a pattern, like at every left turn, it creates a pattern or something. I’ve been in here too long for a pattern not to become clear.
I’m getting sick of the repetitive white washed walls, gleaming teasingly at me. I just hope I can find my way out.
Other thoughts strike though my mind, the one taking the most thought process being,”Why do I want to get out of this maze?” Well, it’s pointless to wander around like this, but what if there’s something worse beyond this torturous maze?
I'll be sure to put up a little more later on,so check this front page soon!