Path

Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Olivia Roune POV

A typical day for me includes waking up, eating, staring at the wall, and falling asleep again. I have repeated this pattern so many times it is practically an extension of me. Today is the same routine, wake up and eat, but today my normal plate of gruel hasn't arrived on time. Then I see the plate of mush sliding through the mail slot underneath the window. I normally try not to make eye contact with the person who is giving the food to me, but today I was caught off-guard by the looks of this new doctor. The person in the white lab coat was staring at me as I slowly observed him. I couldn't get a perfect image because he was completely covered head to toe in a bright white has mat suit with goggles. This shocked me, am I considered that much of a threat to the world that even something as simple as handing a meal through a slot could KILL them? I looked a little closer and saw that this person was definitely a man because of the firm set of his jaw. I couldn't stop myself from wondering how old you had to be to qualify for a job as a doctor.

After the plate was fully through the slot, I hastily grabbed it so as to avoid attention. I absolutely hate attention, people staring at me makes me clam up at unusual times. The man in the suit turned and left and put the sign up on the window saying he would be back in twenty minutes for my turn in the sanitary room. Slowly I started to eat and drift into my world of thought and daydreams. Not soon before my plate was empty and I was just scraping the plate totally lost in dreams. Suddenly I hear a strange noise that is the most beautiful sound in the world. I cannot quite put my finger on what it was that I was hearing, but then it stopped so abruptly I almost cried because it was gone.

Apparently the twenty minutes went by very fast because, before I knew it the man in the suit was back to escort me to the sanitary room. This is just a kind way of saying, a scalding hot shower and funny chemicals, which make feel mind blocked later. The door swings open and there he stands with a pair of hand cuffs in his hands ready to restrain me so I won't try to hurt him while I am being cleaned. Down the hall we go to the last door on the right, with a door labeled showers. He drags me in and shuts the door tightly and then walks over to start the water. I patiently wait for him to step out so that I can step in and clean the layers of grime off of me.

When I have finished, I lightly tap the door and wait to be cuffed and taken back to my cell. On the way down the hall I hear the strangely beautiful sound again and try to glance in as many windows as humanly possible. This isn't easy because the doctor behind me is doing a really good job keeping me on the same path without distractions. I eventually give up due to the sharp pain in my wrists from the strength of the person holding me. When I am released into my room I see a set of books on the floor in front of my bed and run right over. I catch the second strange sound for the day, a low and musical chuckle from the man in the white suit. I glare at him because when they give me books they normally aren't very good. Most times they are about the founder of Mina and why the labs are crucial to the community. Today I am given books on poetry from an era long before the time of the stone walls that keep me inside this place. The book is entitled Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstine. I flip the pages one by one soaking in the knowledge of past legends and wonder so many confusing things I get a headache.

Finally the last meal of the day has arrived through the slot, this I haven't noticed until I hear a gruff voice saying, "Soups on freak."

I shut the book very gently so that I don't damage anything. It's silly me being afraid of words running through my fingers when I have all of them permanently stored in my brain. I have long since been told that this was probably my talent. I try to remember who has told me this when I realize that Kimmy used to tell me that.

She would always say, "Olivia you must have identical memory." This fraise was almost always followed by, "Don't get a fat head though; I am still smarter than you."

With that memory in mind I get a sharp pain in my chest and almost immediately double over with tears. I really wish I didn't have to leave them without saying goodbye.

When I have cleaned the final morsel off my plate, I slide it through the door and pad over to my metal framed bed in the corner of my small cell. The light goes off with a slight click and I fall asleep with silent tears rolling down my face. I want to see my family so much it hurts, but then I remember that this is my life now. No contact and they cannot seek to find me; if I stay here then no danger is to befall them. Falling asleep feels like being pulled through a thick cloud and then; nothing.

It must be no more than three in the morning when I hear a small noise that grows and dips like a ribbon floating through the air. I guess that it is probably that strange noise again which makes me feel the urge to twirl. Recently I read about dances that involve two people, which I have long known will never happen to me because of this stupid lab and the laws that forbid opposite sexes from touching. I scramble to the side of the cell and press my ear against the padded wall. Even though the sound is slightly muffled I can make out individual pitches. Beautiful sounds that mix well together to form music. This word pops into my head from an old book I read a long time ago. Slowly so I don't startle the noise, I walk back to my bed and drift away to the sound of music.

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