「ABSENCE」 TMNT 2012

1; Six Months

"Gross," a girl whispered to herself as she ran her fingers through her brown locks. They were soaked in the grease that had quickly collected over time. Not only was her hair dirty, but her entire body as well. She hadn't had the opportunity to shower in a very long time.

She picked up the palm-sized, gray rock that sat by her cot and traced it down the wall. A scratch formed on the stone beside the others, and she tried to remember how many scratches she'd counted the day before.

    "One hundred and seventy-nine, so today means one hundred and eighty." She paused to mark up the wall some more, drawing out the math formula. When she leaned back, equation complete, she stared at the problem for a solid three minutes.

    It didn't seem possible that she had been behind a locked door for so long, but it was true. She looked down at the rock in her hand and sighed sadly. "Six, horrific months." She laughed humorlessly to herself, shifting her jaw back and forth and mentally counting each tally mark that stared her back with a smirk.

Groaning, she stood up from her hard bed of thin wood and a single, stained sheet, and walked over to the opposite wall. There were no windows in her cell, the only light coming from the torches outside of the metal bars that caged her in. Every day dragged on slowly. She was never given anything to do, and she was only let out on specific days, though they were her least favorite of the week. So she had to find ways to amuse herself.

One of the things she enjoyed was doodling on the walls. During her stay in her cell, she discovered her love for art and sketching. Someday, when she was free, she would buy a real sketchbook and artist pencils. But she didn't have that luxury at the moment.

Sleeping was another way to pass the time, along with working out. Now, she'd never liked physical exercise at all. She always hated PE, and she didn't care at all when she'd look in the mirror and notice the extra chub around her neck and stomach. But what else was there to do when she grew bored of drawing, or couldn't sleep any longer?

At one point she'd considered annoying the guard who brought her her meals each day. But the more she thought about it, the less it seemed like a good idea. He was a big man who looked as if he was on steroids. Since she was hoping to regain her freedom someday, she didn't want to risk getting killed.

    The guard didn't talk much. He would appear suddenly, slide one meal under the cell door every morning that she had to make last all day, then leave as silently as he'd arrived. One morning, weeks after her capture, she gathered enough courage to at least inquire of his name, and he actually responded.

"Carson." His voice was deep and throaty and made her shiver. Then he was gone.

    From then on she made it a priority to greet him whenever she saw him. "Good morning, Carson," she would say with a small smile. At first he ignored her. But as the days turned to weeks, he would nod to her. Soon, weeks became months, and he eventually started returning her manners with a short, "good morning, Elly." Any effort on Elly's part to converse with him further than that was quickly shut down.

Another sigh dissolved into the air. "Do you miss me when I leave you for experimentation?" Elly wondered aloud.

Silence.

She looked down with a frown at the cockroach who skittered across the concrete. He didn't even have the decency to pause and look up at her, acknowledging that she had spoken to him.

"How rude," she muttered. Then she sighed once again, realizing she must be going crazy to talk to a cockroach. But she justified it, remembering how lonely a person can get after six months of barely speaking to anyone.

    Elly focused back on the little bug, watching it scurry under her cot. "It's my six month anniversary with you, Buddy." She named the cockroach Buddy a week after moving into her cell. Ever since then they'd gotten along rather well, she'd say. He was harmless, so she didn't protest to his sharing a living space with her.

    Clanking footsteps thumped their way into Elly's hearing. She froze against the cold wall, eyes glued to the door. "I guess we'll celebrate with pain," she whispered in a voice filled with dread.

    Two shiny, white robots stepped in front of the cell and peered inside. Elly couldn't move, for fear had paralyzed her. She just watched the machines, eyes wide and heart pounding.

    "It is time for that which is known as Subject 205's weekly test," one announced loudly. It moved to unlock the door with a large, rusty key.

    "That's not my name," she told them quietly, backing into the farthest corner of the small room.

    The robot swung the door open and stepped inside. Elly's heart thumped so hard she felt it might jump out of her chest and plunge to the floor. Her eyes grew as round as the little Kraang brain tucked into the robot's hollowed out stomach.

It latched around her bare arm, tightening it's cold, metal fingers so she couldn't pull away. There was no fighting it. Oh, she'd tried many times. But each attempt failed miserably.

She was dragged out of the dungeon and through hallway after hallway, past tapestries and guards dressed in black, until she was brought to a large room. A single lamp shone down upon a table of tools and needles. Elly shivered at the thought of being injected with liquids and serums.

    Beside the table was the familiar chair she laid on for hours one day of every week. They were probably Mondays, but she couldn't know for sure because after the amount of time she'd spent behind bars, she had no idea what day it was anymore.

The two Kraang bots lifted Elly onto the chair and strapped her down, pulling the bonds tight. She didn't say a word, and she didn't fight it. She'd learned long ago to let the machines do their experiments, or she would end up in a worse state than after getting poked with needles.

    This was all routine. She'd done it too many times before. But that didn't make it any less disturbing, and it didn't make it any less painful.

"Come soon," she whispered to the heroes who couldn't hear her.