Part 2
Just as I was pondering the mystery of our daycare assignment, a loud crash jolted me out of my thoughts. I turned to see Lyn, surrounded by a pile of building blocks that had been a carefully constructed tower. The kids erupted into gleeful shrieks, demanding a repeat performance.
“Alright, alright!” Lyn laughed, sweeping up the blocks with exaggerated drama. “Just don’t tell Murkoff that my architecture lessons came from kids like you.”
I laughed instead, Lyn’s humor always managing to lighten the mood. Nearby, Ave, ever the quiet protector, gently helped a shy little boy fix his paper crown. Even Zz, true to his name, kept dozing off, only waking up when his wristband beeped.
“Mito, he took my crayon!” a little girl wailed, pointing at another child drawing on the wall. Sighing, I retrieved the crayon and directed them to use paper, narrowly avoiding a tantrum.
Zz nearly knocked over a tray of juice boxes, muttering about needing a decade-long nap. “How are you more tired than the kids?” I teased, handing him a juice box.
“I think these kids are energy vampires,” he groaned.
My own wristband beeped, a cold reminder that Murkoff was always watching. As Lyn led the kids in a silly song and Ave fixed another crown, I tried to push away the unease. We had to find moments of joy, even in the chaos.
YOU ARE READING
The Horrors
HorrorMitochondria, a quiet subject at Murkoff Hospital, is assigned to care for a 17-year-old girl named Alicia as part of a strict program. Along with fellow subjects Ave, Zz, Sera, and Lyn, Mitochondria wears an orange jumpsuit and a tamper-proof track...
