Winterflame

Chp 2 : Amanda

Amanda

I smile, liking my new name. It feels nice on my tongue. Claire. The professor looks at me with questioning eyes. Does he believe me? Just as he was about to say something, there was a ding dong and the door creaks open.

"Daddy I'm home!" a young girl shrieks as she steps in.

The professor looks turns to her. She stands in the doorway, her mouth gaping open. She looks so young, can't have been more than 10. She had lovely dark hair, much contrast to my snow white hair, and intelligent purple eyes. Purple eyes? A mutation maybe? Her eyes look ever so intelligent. She stands in the doorway, her mouth gaping open. The door slams shut behind her. Her bag drops to the floor.

"Amanda, she's still in shock. Don't..."

Before he can finish, she runs towards me and pulls my sleeve back, revealing the mark on my forearm.

C47 

G53

It was an old scar they burned onto my skin when I was young. She takes one look and hugs me. I gasp, shocked by her reaction. She remains in my arms for a long time before the professor pries her off. She looks at me with hopeful eyes. I turn to the professor.

"Amanda, she's still in shock. She just woke up. Now, go to your room."

Amanda pouts and goes up the stairs, picking up her bag on the way. She seems to make her steps exaggerated and slow. Minutes later, I hear a door slam. The sounds terrifies me. The professor notices this.

"I'm sorry about my daughter. She's just never met someone else like her." He sighs.

"Someone else like her?" I ask.

"You're just like her. She is Subject A7, generation 55." I am instantly on my feet again.

"How do you know this? Are you one of them?" I almost yell.

He sighs again.

"No, child. I'll let my daughter do the talking. You'll take it better if it came from her."

I refuse to sit. I still do not trust him. He looks at me with an expression I cannot read. It isn't pity, nor sorry or sadness. Wait, I know. It is guilt. He feels guilty of something, terribly guilty.

"Now, why don't you have a nice bath and I'll send Amanda to tell you all about it."

"What is a bath?"

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Minutes later, I am in a sort of bowl filled with warm water to the brim. The surface is covered in bubbles that smell like flowers. It took me a while to figure out all the knobs but it was worth it. I feel amazing. I love this activity they called a bath. In the facility, we did get watered down from time to time, but it was never like this.

I lie in there for a long time, thinking about what the professor said to me. Should I be hostile towards them? Or should I trust them? Suddenly, I hear and knock on the door and it creaks open. Amanda stands in the doorway.

"Daddy asked me to check on you. You were taking so long."

I stare at her. I can't believe she is like me. But she is younger, she didn't stay in the facility as long as I was. She might've escaped when she was a baby. She shuts the door. I slowly move and step out of the bowl. I cover myself with a soft absorbent cloth next to me. A full length mirror is nearby and I get to see myself for the first time.

I am terribly thin. My arms have numerous scars and marks from needles and chains. My hair is perfectly white, though I never knew why. That's when I see my eyes. They are of different colours. One is blue and the other green. Besides that, my face is plain. I see Amanda staring at me, her piercing intelligent purple eyes seems to look right into me. I turn around.

"Amanda, what I am going to wear?" I speak softly, as I am not used to my voice just yet.

"Daddy has some clothes he bought for you. Its on the bed."

She opens the door and leads me to a room. There are three doors upstairs, besides the bathroom. The room I am in is plain, with two single beds, a wardrobe, two bedside tables, a mirror and a desk. The room is rectangular. My brain is on override, registering everything I see. I shake my head. I still need to get used to all this.

A set of clothes lay on one of the beds. I walk towards it. I lift them awkwardly. It was a striped shirt and pants made from a material Amanda called 'denim'. She called them 'jeans'. She helps me put my clothes on. I look at myself in the mirror. I guess I look 'normal'. With my eyesight, I can see everything from the threads on my jeans to the fibres on my shirt. I've never had the chance to use my abilities. I must learn to use them.

"Tell me your story." I say to Amanda. Her face changes. She sits on the bed and I soon follow.

"As daddy might've already told you, I am A7 of generation 55.." she starts.

"Wasn't generation 55 eliminated?" I interrupt. I soon learn that this is rude.

"Yes, generation 55 was eliminated. It was because we were too powerful, too unpredictable. I was one of the many babies that were taken into the program for generation 55. Daddy was one of the scientists that worked on my generation." I gasp at this. "He was the one who created the drug for my generation."

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Sorry for the short chapter! Exciting parts of Amanda's story will be revealed in the next chapter.