Experiment 21

2 ~ You are number 21

My sticky eyes slowly opened, to find that I was still in a prison.

The final realization that this was it, this was the reality, didn't really shock me. I would have to find someway to survive. That was that. But there was one thing that had improved since last night. I could now see.

To my delight, a window had been fixed to the wall. It was dirty and barred, so only strips of light could escape, but it was light nonetheless. I sat up, wincing when the aches in my arms and legs made themselves present, that wold have to wait. The window was my goal.

I all but sighed with relief when I reached the ribbons of light. They were slightly warm, so bathing my fingers in it didn't seem like such a bad idea. I cautiously approached the window, heart thumping in my ears. I would be able to work out what environment I was in, if I could just-,

My mouth dropped open in a horrified gape. Water. It was everywhere, licking the sides of the metal boat I was surely on. Blue, and clear against the pale grey sky, It would have been pretty if not for the sign of impending doom it had inflicted on me. And then, there was my reflection. My blonde hair was no longer smooth, but tangled in a birds nest atop my head. You almost missed my eyes; they were dead against my sickly pale skin. But none of that compared to what had appeared on my head. A big, red, demon in the form of numbers.

It was the 21 imprinted onto my head.

I had been branded, like cattle. Cattle to be slaughtered.

I wasn't number one. I was one of many. Maybe people like me, injured and trapped in a concrete prison like I was.

A scary calm wrapped me up and laced me with ice cold nothingness. Someone had to notice I was missing. I had already said it, but I'll say it again. I am not going to die. Am I?

“Am I going to die?” I said.

I focused my thoughts in the room, in hope of avoiding getting caught up with thoughts of death. The first thing I noticed, was that there were light gouges on the walls, almost as if someone had put a huge fight in order to escape. Lines were raggedly carved into the stone, like a tally chart. Almost like someone had been marking there days trapped here. Those lines seemed to go on forever.

That thought wasn't so comforting.

I know it seemed stupid, but I dug in my pockets for a cell phone. There wasn't anything in there, though. I think I needed to stop hoping so much, that way I wouldn't be disappointed so much.

My thoughts switched back to my captors. I had managed to get a quick glance of them when I ripped off my blindfold. All of them were men, all scruffy and unkempt. One of them though....one of them I remembered particularly well. Onyx black eyes and a twisted grin far more evil that the others. Maybe he was the leader, the main man. The sick bastard who took children and put them in concrete rooms.

Suddenly, without warning, my stomach rumbled. I chuckled bitterly. Food wasn't really something else I needed to think about right now, but I was pretty thirsty. That lead to thoughts of them feeding me, or giving me water. Maybe they wanted to keep me alive.

I sure was saying a lot of maybe's.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, feeling more tired and alone than ever before. Normally my mom came in to say goodnight to me, tucked me in even though I was sixteen now. My dad would say 'No sneaking out Gracie' and flip off the light. And then, I would fall asleep on warm blankets from the hot water bottle.

I didn't have much of an imagination, so I couldn't pretend I had any of those things right then.

**********

“Gracie. Gracie! Look at me young lady."

I reluctantly set down the book I held in my tiny, podgy hands and gazed at my mother. She had her hands on her skinny hips, and was doing her best disapproving-mom look. I hurriedly jumped off the sofa, still in my pyjamas. My mothers face morphed into an expression of pure horror when she realized I wasn't dressed for school when we had to leave in fifteen minutes.

"You're not dressed yet?" She screeched, making me jump and recoil back with fear. She rubbed at the crease in-between her eyebrows and pointed to the stairs. "Dressed. Now."

I nodded furiously and padded up the stairs, throwing on my school clothes without much care. I wore a pleated skirt that wasn't so much pleated as crumpled into a ball. My shirt even had a tomato ketchup stain on, but Mom wouldn't notice if I put a jumper on too. I bounced back downstairs, bag pack in hand. It took a moment of Moms exasperated sighs for her to realize I was trembling.

"Honey, you're shaking. Why?" She asked with sincere blue eyes. I bit my lips and tears welled up in my eyes.

"What if the other kids don't like me?" I said timidly, wiping away the residue on my cheeks. My mother pulled me into a hug and muttered something in my ear I will never forget:

"Just be yourself, and people will like you."

I nodded, and toddled off to my first day of school. By the end of the day, I had already made three new friends, and learnt some of the alphabet. My teachers were impressed with how well I could read. and it was all because I had been myself. All because of what my mother had told me.

I knew from that moment on, I could trust her. I would do what she said.

I gasped when I awoke out of my dream in a cold-sweat, damp streaks on my face. My heart felt like it had broken into tiny little sharps and pierced my lungs. I was finding it hard to breath, the melancholy was so over-whelming. I was here, on my own without my family and I never felt so alone.

I sort of wished I had never bought my cat. If I hadn't, I wouldn't be here because I had tried to give him some damn food. I should have just stayed inside, full stop. Had my family noticed yet? Were they looking for me, or were they snug on the sofa at home, totally unaware of my disappearance.

I swallowed, but it felt thick and unsatisfying.

I didn't feel like crying. I didn't have any tears left too cry. All I could do was curl up on the cold floor and pretend everything was going to be alright.

Because it was.

Right?

Song -21 guns, Green Day.