The First

5.2

A/N: Hey guys. First of all, I apologize for the late update. I've been really sick for the past week and haven't felt like I could do anything besides relax and try to get homework done :/ But the good news is I'm starting to feel a bit better. And I wanted to write a new chapter for you guys as soon as I could. Thank you for being patient! I hope you enjoy :)

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01 - 27 - 2089

When I wake up, I'm still restrained. I try to wiggle my fingers, to bring feeling back into my legs, but the straps hold firm. My head is foggy, my vision fuzzy. I turn my head, blinking to bring my room into focus. It's empty. Barr is gone and so is that orderly. 

I stare back up at the ceiling and swallow. My throat's dry too, like I've slept with it open. My whole body feels heavy and unnatural. I've felt these effects before, though not for a long time. Whatever drugs they sedated me with are wearing off.

The door to my room hisses open, and an orderly walks in. It's not the same one who helped Barr restrain me, but I've seen this guy around. I recognize his pale skin and heavy blue eyes. He looks like he's seen too much. But I can't guess what it might be, which frustrates me. I know so little of this world. I want to learn more, I want to escape this prison. And now I can see why they always kept so much from me. They didn't want me to learn. To understand.

I shake my head, flushing the wandering thoughts down the drain and focusing my blurry eyes on the orderly. He sets a meal tray down on the desk near my bed and comes over to me, his huge frame blocking my sight. He avoids my gaze as he unstraps my hands and feet from the confining fetters. 

"Doctor Acosta says for you to eat," he says gruffly, stepping back as I swing my legs over the side of the bed. I rub my sore wrists, just now noticing that they are bandaged; a hint of red peeks through the clean white of the bandages. My eyes trail over to the orderly and I absently notice how odd his red shoes look from the rest of his white outfit. They stand out like blood on snow. A strange simile, and I shake my head to clear it of its craziness. I don't even know what snow looks like--

Wait. That's not true. When Cade took me to see the sunset. I remember seeing snow covering everything. It was so white, so pure. 

Cade. That name is a dagger piercing my heart. I can hardly breathe when I think of him. When I think of how he betrayed me, just like all the others. 

I mentally shove those thoughts out my ears and throw them far away, instead focusing on the present. I try to speak, "When can I--" but break out into a coughing fit before I can finish, my throat and esophagus thick with mucus. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and repeat my question. "When can I see her?"

"Eat," he says again, turning towards the door. I glance at the tray and the food neatly set on it. My stomach growls. 

"No," I say, forcing my eyeballs away from the food. "Let me see her first."

The orderly types in the keypad to open the door, completely ignoring me. I huff and stand, only to instantly regret it as the room spins. I collapse back onto the bed, squeezing my eyes shut in a futile hope that it will relieve the pain behind my eyes.

Nothing helps, and I don't make it to the bathroom before my stomach relieves itself of its meager contents onto the grey floor. Then I dry heave until my stomach feels like it's in knots. 

I lay back against the cold floor near my mess, feeling better. The strange thing is, throwing up usually helps me to feel better after I've been sedated. I've asked Barr why that is, but like most things technical, he didn't give me a clear answer. Just said something about a reflexive action or something like that. 

"Gis? What are you doing on the floor?"

I crack my eyes open, surprised to see Doctor Acosta standing above me, her face twisted in confusion. I didn't even hear the door open...

I sit up, relieved when the world doesn't spin. In my mind, I hear Doctor Acosta's voice again. I hear her calling me an "it." Anger floods my veins as I remember all that I heard. I force myself to stand, my hands clenching at my sides. 

"I want answers." My voice is surprisingly strong, and I feel a swell of pride. I can be brave; I just have to make them see that. Maybe then they'll tell me what's going on. 

"Answer my question first," Doctor Acosta says. She offers me a hand when I sway, but I brush it away and reach the bed on my own. I fall back on my mattress, comforted by its familiar smell, cold and unfeeling though it may be. 

"I was feeling sick," I tell her in the most monotone voice I can manage. "I didn't make it to the bathroom."

"Alright," Doctor Acosta seems to consider this. Her lips purse towards the center. "What do you want to know?"

I'm struck in the face by unbelief. I swipe a hand down my face, trying to clear my head. She's going to give me answers? Then my mind mentally strikes me. Ask now, Gis. Before it's too late! 

"How long have I been asleep?" I blurt, then dig my fingers into my thigh, punishing myself for such a stupid question. Why not ask something more important? Like, am I a real person? Ugh.

"Two days."

Another surprise. And that's such a strange answer because I feel like the argument with Barr just happened mere hours ago. I can picture it so vividly in my mind. "Why?"

This time, Doctor Acosta seems surprised, whether by my reaction or to my question I can't tell. "You were hysterical and injured yourself. We wanted to make sure your body had time to heal, both mentally and physically."  

Now that sounds like a lie. In my mind, it sounds more like they wanted to make sure I couldn't try to escape again. To make sure I was safe and sound in my room--no, prison. To make sure they would remain in control of their precious experiment.

Doctor Acosta watches me closely, her eyes full of hidden understanding. I wish I could just tap into her brain and learn all the secrets that she hides. I know many of them are about me; if only I could access them then I would understand everything.

"Gis, what you heard..." Doctor Acosta starts out slow and I hear the same cautiousness in her voice that I heard in Barr's. They're afraid I'll snap. That I'll go crazy and ruin their tests and experiment. I certainly hope so. "It wasn't for your ears," Doctor Acosta says. I can hear the tentative lie in her words. It wasn't for your ears. Yeah, right.

"What am I?" I ask, realizing that I have never asked such a question. I just never questioned who--or what-- I was. But thinking back, I wish I had asked sooner. I wish I had questioned my existence, my place, in this world. Of course, I did try to fight back years ago, but never once did I wonder if I was human. 

I catch a flicker of uncomfort in Doctor Acosta's eyes at my question, but her gaze holds steady. She very carefully folds her hands in front of her, pulling at the arms of her white coat. "I'm afraid I cannot divulge such information at this time."

Of course. Why did I expect anything different?

"Now, please eat. You need to keep up your strength. I can see you still need some rest. We'll discuss this more later." Doctor Acosta turns towards the door, intent on leaving me alone again. she thinks that's the end of it. That I'll just go back to being my old self. But no, it's too late for that.

"No," I say, allowing some of my untapped anger into my voice. She turns, her eyes narrowed.

"Excuse me?"

"I want you to tell me what's going on. Now," I order, pressing my fist into my thigh. I keep my gaze locked onto her face, not letting it wander. Keeping it firm, steady. 

Doctor Acosta shakes her head slowly, and I almost don't catch it. "I don't think so." 

As I see my opportunity slipping, I struggle to come up with some other method of leverage. But what can I use? My eyes skim over the room, over the drawings on my walls, only to land on my tray of food. 

I take a deep breath before I speak. "If... you don't tell me what I want to know, then I-I won't eat." There. I said it. Now I have to hope that I can follow through. That I can prove to them that I'm not easily manipulated or used. That I'm strong. 

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