Don't mind Alice

Nature Vs. Nuture

The hallway of the old school building was bustling with students. Teachers outside of the doors were smiling as I walked past them. My long black hair flitted past my eyesight as I made my way to my chemistry class. The black counter tops had cylinders set up for the day and students were absentmindedly chatting. They seemed so happy, but how could they be. I always felt alone. I have never known my parents I grew up under the strict rules of an old scientist. His graying hair never neat, his clothes always stained with something dark. The scars along my arms and abdomen stung from the memories of night after night of beating. My head could still hear the echoes of every scream. Of how worthless I was, of how I would always be a failure. 

The teacher walks in with a smile plastered on his face, but his teeth seem to white. It makes me angry to see him just standing up there. He shouldn't be this happy all the time. As he starts to talk about something unimportant something snaps in me. Everything I have been taught by the old man floods my mind and I lose control. I know what I am doing so well that my mind doesn't process it as I leap out of my desk toward the teacher. His smile gets wiped off his face and it is the first thing that makes me happy. I have known how to dis-assemble a body from a young age and it is like clock work as I lay him across his work bench cutting his body apart. The kids around me are screaming terrified. There faces no longer smiling. I know I shouldn't do this in front of people. I have never done it in front of people before, always in the lab under the scientist supervision. I see people moving around but no one can leave the room, they are stuck. 

Someone grabs my shoulders but looking back I see myself staring back. But my hair is longer and wavy. I have a long flowy skirt on and my eyes are pleading with me to stop. The body on the table has stopped moving. He is dead and I feel more alive.

"This is not who you are" The girl says. Looking closer I realize we have differences although they are small. "We need to go. You can't be here."

I look around at the frantic classroom and I know they won't let me leave. Not after what I have done. I see the chemicals on the teachers desk and throw them toward the class. They shatter against a metal cabinet as it explodes and everyone ducks. The girl grabs my arm rushing me through the doors and out of the classroom.

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We sit on the ground surrounded by other girls in flowy dresses and guys with dreads. A small fire is outside of a small wooden house and a pot is making a soup.

The girl told me we were twins taken away from our parents at birth to be tested for all of humanity. She lives on this small farm where they grow all of their own food and live together in harmony. She has grown up on the principles of peace and tranquility. Never being yelled at, never being punished. She says that the institution wanted to see how two people that were so similar at birth could be put through opposite situations and see how they could turn out. 

I sit a small ways away from the group cutting avocados and mushing them in a stone bowl. Nothing seems to be going right as I try to separate the pits. Everything is mushy, but she just smiles at me telling me I am doing a great job. It makes me angry inside. 

She walks over to me her bare feet hitting the dirt, adding ingredients to the bowl and gently showing me how to stir them. 

"Don't you want to know why they did this to us?" I ask.

"I don't find joy in knowing all the answers, but I can show you where the institution is if you would like."

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The institution is a large metal building with windows covering the entire front side. I sit on the top floor at a large table waiting for someone to come talk to me. They believe I am oblivious and her to interview for a teaching position. I know the tactics for getting what I want. 

"Hello, how are you doing today?" A woman walks in with short blonde hair and a professional dress on.

"Hi, I have a few questions before we start the interview if that is alright." I put on a fake smile.

"Of course."

"Is it true that a teacher should always be aware of her students true intentions?"

"Yes."

"And is it also true that A teacher should educate all students to the best of their ability giving them all of the facts?"

"That is true." Her face seems confused.

"Then please tell me why as a teacher you have never informed me of my true upbringing and of my true family. That you have allowed me to be tortured for years and watched as it has happened."

Her face went blank as fear crept across it. She knew who I was and she knew what I was capable of, there was no denying it.

"Let me show you something." She called in another worker. A guy about my age also blonde. He escorted me to the elevator as we descended into the basement. The doors opened to cement walls that had small rooms off to the left and right. They had glass walls on one side that allowed you to see into a room with only a bed and toddlers playing around in each of them.

"This is where you lived for the first four years of your life." He said walking me across the room to a giant metal door. As he pushed a button the doors slide open to reveal metal pods slowly going by. "Each pod taught you something through the years of your life. In our data entries we saw that you took 4 times in the pod to be potty trained."

He took a tablet off of the wall. Opening it to my profile. It had a picture of me on it with icons for each pod during my stages.

"We kept your sister and you here until you were four in order to make sure you were similar enough for the study. We do this with the other children as well."

"There are more of us?" I sounded angry as I looked around at the other rooms.

"Not many, but there are a few." He walked to the glass wall closest to us and opened the door walking in. "This guy is almost two years old, however he seems to be delayed, He doesn't like to be held, or to be around other people."

"What do you expect you have been keeping him in a room by himself for two years of his life." I can feel the anger bubbling up inside of me again.

The boy waddles over to me grabbing onto my leg. I lean down grabbing his arms and lifting him up.

"That is strange, he seems to have a connection with you. He doesn't take kindly to many people. Maybe you are connected in some way." The man looks at me closely writing something down on the tablet. "Maybe you could work here."