Nonconformity | Henry Creel

Maggots

Papa summoned the children to his office one at a time. First Two, then Three, then Four, continuing on in numerical order. Each person seemed to dread whatever was waiting for them, dragging their feet as different orderlies ushered them out the door. This only made me more nervous, as I had no idea what to expect, and Six had disappeared a few hours ago.

Each child came back right after their testing except her. I figured she just went to rest, choosing her bed over free time in the Rainbow Room. I'd of done the same. Still, though, it left me to sit alone as the hours ticked by, impatiently waiting for my turn all while fighting the urge to fall asleep. Each minute seemed to pass slower than the last.

As if it wasn't bad enough already, Two and Four's incessant glaring in my direction made me want to carve my eyes out. I was already hypersensitive with the lack of sleep and the endless screaming of the a/c, and their stares were enough to push me over the edge.

The cards clenched between my hands suddenly slipped, and I watched as they fell to the ground. On top of everything else, the fallen cards brought frustrated tears to my eyes. The light above me flickered as my anger reached new depths. "Fuck," I whispered, clenching my eyes closed as I tried to steady my breathing, "It's just a few cards."

There was a tap on my shoulder.

"What?" I spat, whipping my head around to face the culprit.

Peter's blue eyes filled with confusion at my outburst. Of course, it was Peter who I'd lost my temper on. Because why would the universe ever make things easy for me? "It's your turn, Sixteen," He said.

"Lovely," I muttered, rising from my chair. I was too tired to be nervous around him. The dream didn't even cross my mind as I followed him out into the hallway. I kept my mouth shut and my gaze on the floor, silently panicking as we made our way to Papa's office. I hadn't seen the man since I'd discovered his... more violent tendencies. Was I a good enough actor to play the doting daughter on zero hours of sleep?

I suppose I didn't really have a choice, did I?

My thoughts traveled back to Two and Four's threat. I truly didn't know whether to take it seriously or not. Why did they only ask me to fail? Why not Six? I must have given them the impression that I was powerful enough to get a spot in Papa's revered 'program.' Otherwise, they wouldn't have said what they did.

I didn't doubt Two and Four's capacity for violence. 'Unhinged' described the pair pretty well. Six once told me it wasn't unlike them to fight with their fellow patient. Broken fingers, legs, wrists, and arms. All inflicted to pay tribute to their obsession with Papa. In one way, I felt bad for them. They'd been molded to think that way their entire lives. I was more fortunate than they were in that metric. Papa's influence had shattered the minds of nearly everyone in the facility. The rest simply cowered at his feet.

My gaze shifted to my still-throbbing hand.

I dug my heels into the ground. If they didn't kill me, they would certainly hurt me. That thought had me stopping in my tracks and wondering if I had the willpower to walk into the office. What if I got the spot even after throwing the tests today?

"Sixteen?" Peter had stopped walking. I glanced down the deserted hallways on either side of us. For a moment, I considered hauling ass. Perhaps I could skip the tests altogether and take my chances at an off-the-cuff escape attempt.

Peter took a few steps closer. Slowly, though, like he was trying not to frighten an animal. "Are you feeling alright?" His eyebrows knitted together in worry. It briefly occurred to me how insane this all was. I was trapped in a lab, surrounded by children who possessed unknown powers, forced to follow the will of a man I did not know. All this time spent thinking about Peter when I should've been thinking about myself.