Nonconformity | Henry Creel

Do You Understand?

I slept for a maximum of five hours every night.

No matter how much my body ached or my brain begged for relief, I never slept. It wasn't really a conscious choice I was making. Without a task to complete or a person to interact with, my unhindered mind would not allow me a moment of peace. It was as though, each night, I was being led on a leash, helpless to derail my train of thought.

When I did sleep, it was fitful, overloaded with odd dreams and unanswered questions.

I also hated being alone in my room. The air conditioner seemed as though it were screaming in my ear, unrelenting despite my every attempt to muffle it. Some nights I would be so wracked with tiredness and so maddened by the machine that I would curl my pillow around my face until I couldn't breathe. And then I'd sit there, anguished for air, until I eventually gave in and pulled the pillow from my face. I liked the control it gave me. At the very least, I was in charge of my airways.

They bent to my will even if no one else did.

Tonight was worse than the nights before. I didn't get a wink of sleep, despite my endless attempts. My mind felt as though it didn't fit inside my skull, swollen with questions, observations, dread, tiredness, and basically anything else that I got around to thinking about.

Training with Peter took precedence. All night, I combed over our previous interactions and how they would play into our training. Did Peter really allow me to escape, or was it simply an act of self-preservation? If someone were brandishing a taser at me, I would back off, too.

I dissected that interaction for an hour, before moving on to something else.

Whether he let me go out of the goodness of his heart or not, I didn't like him. He was too polished. There was something about him that just made me wildly uncomfortable. When he stared at me, I sometimes believed he was diving into my brain and swimming among my thoughts. And his eyes certainly did him no favors. A blue so vivid I felt as though I were drowning beneath them.

Training would be a nightmare, without a doubt. We would sit together for hours on end while he disapprovingly watched me achieve absolutely nothing. I think I dreaded that most of all. If I could, I would never speak to him ever again. I'd choose group training over individual training with him, and that was saying a lot.

I sighed at the sound of an orderly making their way towards my door.

The Rainbow Room was buzzing with life when I finally left my room. Usually, the place was quiet aside from the occasional whispered conversation and the clatter of equipment. Today, though, the children talked amongst themselves with something that resembled excitement. Someone even waved at me as I entered. I was so taken aback by the notion that I just stared without returning the gesture and shuffled my way towards my table. What shocked me even further was when they fell in step with me all the way to my destination.

And then I sat.

And she sat, too.

"I'm Six," She greeted, then smiled. I noticed a small gap between her two front teeth. I blinked twice, never uttering a word. My mind was racing too fast for me to even think about formulating a response. Why was she here? Was this Two's doing? I'd seen them playing chess before, perhaps this was a setup? But why would Two set me up?

I was stunned at my own paranoia. Good lord, I'd been here a month and had somehow been reduced to a paranoid, anxiety-fueled mess. I had also completely forgotten about common courtesy, apparently, "Hi, I'm Sixteen."

"Oh, we match," She gushed, "Well, kind of." Another gap-toothed smile was sent my way. She was quite pretty. Her doe eyes brimmed with warmth, bearing the same dark brown as the dusting of freckles across her cheeks. The beginnings of curly black hair peeked out of her scalp. She seemed to be around my age.