Marcid

Forty - Zeke

He couldn't be in the lab again. He didn't want to be there. He never wanted to be there. Why was he being punished like this? It certainly wasn't his fault that Kory was taken. It wasn't his fault that Aaliyah died. It wasn't any of this fault. So what could God be punishing him for? Was it even God? Was he doing this to himself? Perhaps he had brought this onto himself. All of his actions. All of his words. Words. Maybe it was what he said. What did he say?

I think I love you too.

That must have been it. It was Kory. He had manipulated him into saying it. He did it. It wasn't his fault. It was Kory's. Only Kory's. There was nobody else at fault other than him. It was all his fault. He was the one who came back. Why wasn't Aaliyah alive? She should be alive. Not him. He didn't deserve to be alive. Anyone other than him. If Aaliyah couldn't heal people, and she had what Kory had; then she would be alive. Not him. Zeke stared at the white tiles that covered the floor underneath his feet. He was forced to strip, to "make sure that he didn't have any weapons on him." That was what one of the soldiers said, anyway. He wasn't sure if it was true. It must have been. Why else would they ask him to fully undress. He had heard the click of a camera and a flash blind his eyes a couple of times. There was a photographer in the room, taking pictures of Zeke as if he was a work of art. They had left and given him a change of clothes afterwards. A white, long-sleeved sweatshirt and gray sweatpants. They didn't give him shoes. Just white socks. He felt humiliated during the whole process. As if he was a painting for viewers to judge. He dressed himself and hid in one of the corners of the room. His knees were to his chest, his arms wrapped around them. He felt his own body shaking. His insides were vibrating. He didn't know why. It was fear that made him stay awake. He didn't know how long he had went without sleep. He didn't know how many times he had the same though over and over. If he drifted asleep, would Aaliyah come to visit him? Or would she stay right where she promised she should stay.

In.

Here.

Zeke tapped the heart area of his chest. A feeling of warmth pooled in his chest. His heart beat faster at the thought of her. It always did. It beat faster with Kory. He didn't know why. He started to hate the fact that it did again. He didn't know why. He didn't want to know why. There was no reason for it to beat faster. He was a boy. Aaliyah was a girl. It made more sense when it came to her. It's what God intended.  Did he intend to make Kory a born-sinner? Maybe it was just the way he was born. Were there people like him in the real world? Maybe there were. Obviously, there could be. It couldn't be just him. If there were more like Kory, then he would find someone else. He would find someone like him. And then Kory wouldn't like him anymore.

He should stop thinking about it. No need for the negativity. Zeke would be fine. He wouldn't need anyone else. He would find his place in the lab again. Again. And forever, he would stay there. Until he was eighteen. Then he would be sent away. He didn't know where, though. The older kids that he knew when he was in the lab had never told him where they went before they took their final leave. They were always mopey during their last days in the lab. Either that, or they were constantly crying: the nurses had to provide solace to them most of the time, if they didn't stop crying for a certain amount of time.

Zeke sat there for a long time. He counted the seconds until he lost count over and over. He wouldn't let himself fall asleep. He wouldn't let himself do anything. He would simply wait for someone to open the door. To hug him and tell him that everything would be okay. He would leave and finally reunite with Kory. He wondered if Kory wanted to see him right now. Or if he was even thinking about him.