W.A.R.M.T.H: The Prologue

The Doctor

       Amora

     Left, right, sidestep, duck, slide, swing, jump, left, right. Repeat. How long has it been? Hours? Minutes? I don't care. I always lose track of time while training with my swords.

"Amora, the doctor is here to see you."

I freeze, keep it together Amora, breathe. I try to make my tone light

"Okay mom, be up in a sec."

I hear her footsteps go upstairs. I stop my training and stand in the center of the spacious training room, attempting to hold back my tears and screams of rage. I can't lose it right now. After a long, drawn-out drink of water, I jog upstairs to meet with the doctor.

"Hello doctor, how are you today?" I say politely to the middle-aged man standing around in the kitchen sipping our bubbly water.

"Quite well, thank you Amora. And you?" I smile at him

"Oh, I'm doing well I"- He cuts me off with a snicker

"Well, that's extraordinary dear, but I was referring to the latest advancements in your skill."

Don't scream, don't cry, don't react I tell myself.

"Oh, I'm sorry. How rude of me. Of course, that's what you meant. My advancements, hmm. Well, my reflexes have gotten faster, I feel stronger. My sense of smell has greatly increased. I smelt a whiff of cologne today from a bush 75 yards away from where I was standing. I was quite impressed with the improvements."

"That's magnificent my dear!" the doctor exclaims.

"That leads me into what our next experiment will be."

My heart drops into my stomach

"Ne-next experiment?" I stammer.

"But of course dear, there is only room for improvement, and you are doing so at a record-breaking pace. Our next procedure will be to enhance your animalistic instincts such as maternity, territory, and awareness of your surroundings at all times. What do you think?"

I begin to answer, but then I realize his question was directed towards my mother

"I think that's a splendid idea, I am sure she will have to be awake for the procedure?"

"Of course, Mrs. Ripley just as the fine print stated in our contract."

My mother smiles at the doctor and then switches her look to one of concern

"Will this procedure leave any...noticeable scars on her body? I simply cannot have this ruining her looks any more than she does to herself, they're all she has."

"No, no." the doctor reassures her, "very small incisions on the back, they will be hidden by her shoulder blades. Not to worry madam" my mother claps her hands together.

"Wonderful then! When shall we schedule it?" the doctor rubs the stubble along his chin in a thinking gesture

"Any time after Sunday will work for me, Mrs. Ripley."

She smiles again "That will be perfect Dr. Hansen. Let's say Monday, at 7 AM. Is that alright for you Doctor?"

"Exquisite"

the doctor smiles. "Well, I'll be on my way now. Nice seeing you Mrs. Ripley."

"Oh. Doctor, you forget, it is now Ms. Ripley; since Amora's eighth birthday, I'm a widow." She shoots me a glare from the corner of her eye. The doctor bows in an apologetic gesture

"I do apologize, Ms. Ripley so many years I have called you as my best friend's wife. It is a shame, what happened to Andrew but, the show must go on. Goodnight Madam."

He tilts his hat towards my mother and walks out the door she is holding open. My mother closes the door behind him, gives me a once-over and scoffs.

"Go clean yourself up Amora, it's almost dinner time, and I will not have you smelling of sweat and blood at my dinner table. Also, we're having company tonight so for god's sake, put on something nice."

I try to reel in my emotions and shake off the events that just occurred. another procedure? How much more do I actually need to go through?

"Of course, mother,"

I say sweetly and rush upstairs to the bathroom. I close it softly before sliding down the wall with my head in my hands. Why does she keep putting me through these experiments? But of course, I already know. Because I'm a monster. Because I'm weak because I will never truly be good enough for her. Because of the terrible accident that befell on my eighth birthday. Why did I have to be so careless that day? Why am I like this? By now tears have begun to swell and pour down my face.

Why can't I just be normal? I want to scream, to go hide somewhere in the dark.

"Amora!!" my mother yells from downstairs. "Hurry up! The doorbell will begin ringing any minute now!"

I take a deep, shaky breath and try to muster up the confidence to respond evenly.

"Just a few more minutes mother!"

      I yell back down to her. Okay, breathe, calm down; I need to get into the shower and change my clothes. I should do something nice with my hair too. I stand up and face my reflection. My gray-blue eyes are bloodshot, puffy, and tired-looking, my white hair is a mess, my mouth is too droopy; I need to smile. Who's coming over anyway? Usually, my mother doesn't let me do my own hair when we have company. I turn on the water to the shower and begin peeling off my sweat-drenched clothing. I need to work a little bit more on my stance with my broadsword, I keep placing my feet too close together, it knocks me off balance. When I get into the shower, the water is warm, too warm. I turn the handle to the left and wait to see how the temperature changes. It begins warming my back more. I turn the handle again, making the water a higher temperature. Not quite, I turn it once more until it is scalding on my body that has been all too cold these days. I let it burn my skin as I wash.

"Amora!!" my mother yells again "Do I need to go up there and clean your body for you?! You've been up there for ages!"

I've been up here for about ten minutes. I think bitterly.

"I know mother, I'm sorry! I'll be down soon!"

I turn off the scalding water and step out of the shower. I wrap myself in a towel and begin brushing my hair.