The Walls

Chapter 6~ 4 weeks, 3 days

*&* Edited *&*

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"Are you sure you want to do this?" his voice whispered, holding the syringe up to the light watching the just-visible single-cell particles swim around in the tinged red liquid. I couldn't do anything but watch the scene unfold in front of me. My parents stood side-by-side next to my bed with grim faces. I wanted to ask what he was going to inject me with, what was in the syringe. But I couldn't. I didn't understand why. "You want to give her up? Allow us to use her for the experiments? She may not come back you know, she might die." Were they talking to about the Dome? Why couldn't I walk, get up or speak? Was this just a figment of my imagination?

"Inject it. Let her take part in the experiment," my mother said rather forcefully

"Why do you want to do this to her? It will destroy her life,"

"It's for the good of science. And she's only one child, we can have more. One person isn't going to make a difference. You can have her..." my dad trailed off. A pang of sadness ran through me, what was that supposed to mean?

"Okay, I'm going to run through the symptoms of the serum and what it's going to do to her. While she's infant nothing will happen. The drug is soaking, the body is accepting it. As she grows to a toddler, she will become intelligent quickly. She will be speaking perfectly fluent sentences by the time she's 4. She'll ace tests. She'll be brainy. By the time she's 6, she'll be immensely strong. Able to lift things a young man that constantly works out can lift. By the time she's 8, her emotions with be strong. If she's mad, she'll be mad. If she's happy, she'll be happy. But, due to her intelligence she may learn to conceal these emotions so well, you won't even be able to tell. By the time she's 10, all her survival instincts start kicking in. She knows how to light a fire, knows how to skin an animal, knows how to wield a sword but she doesn't understand this. It's subconscious. She won't think she knows how to but once she picks one up, she'll suddenly remember. It'll come in handy. By the time she is a teenager, the religion or whatever she believes in will grow strong. At 13 her eyes will start changing colour depending on mood. Not in blues or brown but it pinks and reds and purples and yellow and whites and blacks. She may get picked on. When she's 16, she'll be so powerful, she'll be able to do a lot of things. But obviously, we aren't going to leave someone like that wandering the streets so we'll probably hold the poor thing captive. These are only half of the symptoms but these are the main ones."

"Alright,"

"And you aren't afraid of the welfare of your child? How she'll get picked on, how her life will be destroyed? You don't care?" The man seemed to hate doing what he was going to do. He was trying in vain to get them to change their mind

"Look, stop questioning us. We know what we're doing, we know what we want. She probably won't come back so it doesn't matter. Inject the brat already," my mum looked livid, her face contorted in such a way, it scared me. I shivered. Dad stood by her side a little uncomfortably, "We get the money after right?"

"Right." The doctor spat, now looking venomous, "I'll inject her, you go pick your money up." They nodded curtly and left the room, leaving me alone with the man, "Poor child, poor poor child. They are going to throw you into the Dome and you're never going to know why." He walked up to me with the syringe, "And you're going to be scared. And you're going to want your family back. These people. These evil people. Trying to create a perfect child. I think all younglings are perfect without the help of drugs. What has the world come to?" I didn't know what to think as the syringe inched closer and closer to me. And when I felt the needle poke my side I realised why I couldn't move or speak,