Eyes On Creel

Trapped

1984, [REDACTED]
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• [🎼Copy Cat; Melanie Martinez☆]
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"Analyze my every move, what current state I'm in."

                           [...]

[...Henry's POV]
I stared at the circle of light bulbs.. I had to focus on each and every single one, focus the energy to make one or more bulb light up. Ugh
Every single bulb lit up.
Finally, I can get sleep.
[. . .]

A guard escorted to me to my room, like I wasn't 14. I can walk to my own 'prison cell'.
I sat on my white blanketed cot, it had one pillow, I hate it, but at least they don't make us sleep on the cold, hard, tiled flooring.
'Papa' said I turn 15 tomorrow, ugh.
I heard 'papa' found more kids like me, with abilities. They should be arriving tuesday.
My eyes start to droop from my tiredness, I lay down on my back and rest my eyes, slowly drifting into my sleep.
                          [. . .]

"Get up." I hear a voice from the near doorway. I groaned.
Papa sat on the edge of my plain, white, cot. "We have training in 10", he said as he placed a tray with waffles on it. You'd think waffles would be the sunshine of this darkness, but no, they are very dry, and hard to bite through, to be honest.
"Yes, Papa'" I say, forcing a smile as he nods in approval and walks out with the broad guard. I've never liked the guards. There hasn't been one nice guard my whole stay. As they walked off, I gestured "fuck you" with my middle finger.
I groaned as I got ready for training. A different guard escorted me to the testing room. Today I am testing my abilities to track somebody with using just my mind. They wrapped a rough, cushioned, scarf-like object onto ny forearm, it had a black cord attached. I could hear sounds, similar to a typewriter. I had to locate Armello, one of the facility's guards. Im assume the clicking like sound was coming from my head and being transmitted into the machine.
"He's in the archives." I stated
"What is he doing?" 'Papa' asked.
Looking through patient files, my files.
"Excellent, 001."
"May I be exused now, 'papa'?"
"Yes, yes." "Go on." He gestured his hand in a shooing motion.
I nodded my head as he spoke, "Lunch is at twelve." Over my shoulder, eyes peeking in, analyze my every move, what every state I'm in. The guard was following behind me, escorting me to the rainbow room. Imitated never duplicated. I sighed to myself, as the new children arrived. The newer the child, the more the older one is forgotten. But, to my advantage.
Brenner takes it, then he leaves it.

                    Just like that.
                            [...]