Prologue
The beeping machines, dragging chairs and deafening conversations echoed the room.
Deafening in a sense that their whispers are amplified to a thousandth time, every grunt, sneer and snort were heard as much as the well articulated words of the man in white, my Father.
I have been lying on the table for a week. I have been counting the days you see. Even though this place is secluded, with only the fluorescent lights maintaining the brightness of the laboratory, I would still know what day and time it is. The doctors and their other staff would keep track, along with the times they monitor my vital signs and brain activity.
A week ago, I was with my beautiful mother, watching TV. I was curling her silky blonde hair with my fingers, touching her elegant brows, patrician nose and giggling every time she presses her rosy lips against mine. She tickled me and like usual I would burst in a fit of laughter. It was one o’clock in the afternoon when my father entered our house still wearing the suit he wore this morning when he left for work. It was a bit unusual since he shouldn’t be home until five o’clock in the afternoon. His face was void of any emotion, unlike four months ago when he would give a half-smile that I have gotten used to.
“John! Is something wrong?” lately that is how my mother greets him.
But this time, he did not answer her. He just strode in the living room and got me from my mother. She let him take me, not knowing that there are other men in suits entering the room.
“John? Who are they?” the question from my mother was left unanswered as my father passed me to one of the men. Recognizing that I was no longer in the arms of a family or friend, I cried.
“Oh!! My baby! John! What’s going on? Answer me!” was my mother’s demand. I could tell that any time soon she would go into hysterics as my father and the one carrying me left the house while two men held her down as she struggled to rip their hands off her.
I still cried when I still couldn’t feel familiar hands touching me, smell the familiar scents and hear the familiar voices. No one in the car looked familiar except for my father who looked at me with unfamiliar eyes.
“Do something about the crying.” My father commanded and right away, a few shuffling and I could feel the needle piercing my skin and reaching the deltoid muscle. My cries were louder as I felt the medication entering my system until it took its effect and all I could see is darkness.
When I woke up I was lying on this cold table with restraints on my extremities, and cables attached to me. There are times when I find it hard to breathe and they would place an oxygen mask covering my nose and mouth. Sometimes I could feel my heart beat fading and they would revive me again and again. I was already getting tired of the number of times they inject medications on me. The first times were painful but on the fifth day of my confinement in this laboratory, I could no longer feel the intense pain and fear. I was aware of my surroundings, I could feel, see, and hear every movement. And every time I close my eyes, memories that I shouldn’t have been aware entered my consciousness. I could remember the senses I felt when I was being created inside my mother’s womb.
“What is the progress so far?” I heard my father as he came towards the table.
“It is still not stable. Although the brain activity shows that it is more advanced than that of the others her age.” One of the doctors replied. It was Doctor Murray. His voice is a bit croaky.
“We’re running out of time.” My father replied, impatience dripping from his voice. I looked at him and focused. I could see his heart beating, the oxygen and carbon dioxide exchanging in the alveolar sacs. Suddenly, the alarm went off and everybody went into panic. My father’s heartbeats became louder and faster. In a state of chaos, someone disengaged all cables attached to me. I could hear shouts, running, gun fires, pants and gasps. I could feel the fast heart beat of this stranger.
“Everything will be okay. Now, let’s get out of here” Were his words filled with conviction.
I closed my eyes and waited for it all to end while still sensing every event that took place.
It took an hour when we finally got out. We have passed hallways and sewers and now we are finally out and into the streets of New York City. I was reveling at my freedom but I knew it was too good to be true. My savior was shot but taking a lot of effort, he swung his arm and aimed at the remaining chasers. A shot through the head and I knew that they were gone; the place that held me captive was burning into flames.
“I’m sorry, princess. It looks like your knight wouldn’t make it. I would be leaving my lady wife and baby boy in this kingdom forever. But I hope that one day, you will meet my baby boy and tell him to chase his dreams and be the man his daddy will be proud of. And—when you see my wife, tell her that I will see her on our next life.” Tears were streaming down his face as he held me on his left arm and a locket with a picture of a beautiful brunette woman and a boy with full black hair and big blue eyes on his right hand. He sighed. And the mere action seemed like it took him a lot of effort to do so. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You still won’t understand what I’m saying. I’m really sorry. Your mom asked me to bring you back and I failed. I’m really sorry.”
I looked at his blue eyes and I could see the sincerity in them. I laid my head on his chest to let him know that I understood everything he said. I read his name stitched on his breast pocket, Julian Moore. As if he sensed it, he muttered “Thank you” and with one last shudder, his heart stopped. Right then and there, I allowed myself to cry. I cried the way babies cry when their toys are taken from them. I cried the way I cried when I was ripped away from my mother. I cried as the alley cats gathered and purred.
“Oh! Jesus Christ! A dead man—and a baby” a woman’s voice interrupted my cries.
“Come here baby. You’re safe now.” The woman with a foul smell took me from my savior. I held on to his locket.
“Ah—you want to take that?” she asked, not expecting a reply. She unclasped the lock and dangled the locket in front of me. I took it and held on to it. The woman chuckled and took me in her arms.
We left the alleys. In a minute, sirens were wailing, going near to where my savior is. But it was too late. He’s already dead.
