Episode 9: It's Different

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               "Are you comfortable Spes?" My father's cold hands pushed my shoulders a bit, then strapped my wrists next to my hips as I lay naked on the silver metal table, my legs reluctant to touch the surface, but when my feet were confined in a tight buckle, I had no choice.

               "Yes." I nod and look at the room of scientists, checking things off their clip boards, not giving me the time of day, thank goodness, and I wait for nurses to attach sticky pads on me with wires streaming out of them and hooking up to machines that produce signals on my vital signs.

               "Age of the subject?" A random man asked.

               "11."

               "Time?"

               "16:00 hours."

               "Ok." My father's superior, and old boss, leaned on the desk and clicked the button to start recording his voice in the machine he had tightly gripped in his white gloved hand. "Date, 25th of March, Time, 16:00 and counting, subject is, Spes Trinity, age 11, weight, below 93 pounds due to specialized diet, height, about 4'9" or over...hair has turned a darker shade again." The man walks towards me, looking at the strands of gray he's picked up in between his fingers, putting it against the white blue-ish light that barely exposes the entire room to my eyes.

               "How's the machine?" My father pats the back of one of the nurses, with yet another face I don't remember, nor care to.

               "Charging." Her voice is serious and uncaring, like all the rest. Just...solemn.

               "She seems to be growing like any other child. No anomalies. I think we're clear to proceed."

               I smile at my father before my mouth is coaxed open and a sort of mouth piece which tastes of crude plastic and rubber surrounds my tongue and teeth, the chill of the flavor so disgusting that I almost spit it out but I force myself to endure it.

               "Do you have the serum?" My father opens his hand for the needle and I bite down in advance, waiting for the familiar pain to poke into my arm, finding it's vein and I pace myself when they turn on the screen to look at the process and stats of their experiment that goes on every 3 months.

               I hated it, but back then, I didn't know that. I just knew that, I was going to help my father. That was it. Nothing more.

               In reality. I was just a lab rat. Naked and disgraced, too innocent to know any better. Too stupid to think about climbing the walls of my cage. Too young to know I was in a cage.

               "Ok. We're good. Everything's online." A higher ranked nurse zooms in with the video camera, and I know what's coming. The strain, the shock...everything. I look for my father, but I don't see him. I only see eyes. Looking at me like I'm some sort of...alien. Or odd being.

               Like I'm a secret, and their trying to figure it out...and I can't stop them.

               "Machine at 3 points."

               3 points.

               "Proceed."

               "Wait, we agreed. 6 points. Double it if you want results. 3 points aren't going to help me find you your cure." I gasp at the sound of my father scoffing at the apparently ridiculous notion to only give me 3 managed jolts of electricity. He wants 6.

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