Are We Human?

Chapter 1

I hate the smell of sweat in the morning. Especially when it's mixed with the sounds of trainers yelling at you to push past your limits, even though you're already doing the best you can. 

"Kip Number 476, step up the pace or you'll get the whip!" 

I flinched as a sharp crack was sounded right behind my left foot. I ran faster, all of my muscles in various places in my body screaming in agony, begging me to stop, but I still pushed onward. I'd be damned if I gave in and let them slash me again. 

A loud bell rang out harshly throughout the Camp's grounds, signalling to all of the poor people who had to wake up at 1 AM that they could finally go back to their dorms and rest. I stopped my running on the worn down track and slumped over almost dramatically, hands on my knees and breaths coming out in quick, shallow secession. A different guard than before came up to me, a switch dangling threateningly in his hand. I quickly jogged away from the man and towards my dormitory building. It was a small, brown building with crumbling walls and garbage littering the entire perimeter. Inside the "building", hazardous mold and the disgusting stench of sewage water instantly filled my lungs, making them feel whole again. Each tiny room held a single clone, a cot, and a wooden shelf nailed to the farthest wall from the door. The shelf held an extra pair of clothes for everyone and one item of the clone's choice. Some held a tube of makeup, because even when you're in captivity against your will, people still want to appear pretty. Some held rectangular baseball cards, because even when you're being driven insane by the lack of human contact, you'll always want to hold those pieces of meaningless thin cardboard. 

I got to the end of the hallway on the second floor and to my own personal cell. I sighed deeply and collapsed onto the thin bed pressed to the corner of the room, curling up on my side. I looked up at my own shelf, holding a stack of clothes and an overflowed notebook. The original pages were filled in years ago when another clone taught me how to read and write. In order to satisfy my ever growing thirst for writing, I had to snatch loose pieces of paper off of guards, cooks, delivery men, and trainers, then slot them between the pre-made pages. 

One small square poked out slightly from the jumbled stack. It was a picture of my boyfriend, Phil, and myself when we were younger. I was about 18 and he was 22, I believe. That was over six years ago. The photo was kindly taken by a caring guard who was later fired for "Inefficient behavior". It showed us both smiling as brightly as we possibly could, faces towards the camera lens but temples pressed gently together. It made my heart flutter just thinking about that night.

But my sore muscles and aching bones made that little lovely butterfly feeling difficult to fully experience. Well, only up until I heard the door swing open, then shut and a pair of strong arms tightly wrap themselves around my waist. 

I felt a kiss being planted right behind my ear, then a soft voice whispering, "Good morning, Bear. How was your training?"

"Horrible, per usual." I relaxed a little in his grip, the only feeling of calm I ever received in this God forsaken place being in his embrace. "The new guy pulled the whip on me again."

"What?" Phil exclaimed angrily and quickly rose off the bed to look me directly in the face. "Did he hurt you? What happened? Are you okay?"

I shook my head and sported a small smile on my flushed face. "No. I'm fine, Lion. He didn't touch me." 

Phil sighed and kissed me softly on the lips. "Good. You don't deserve that."

He laid back down on his side, cuddling me from behind. I closed my eyes but had no intention of actually falling asleep just yet. I'd much rather have savored this moment than give it up to oblivion. 

I thought Phil had drifted off himself until he spoke quietly into the silent air. "The draft's starting up again."

This made my eyes shoot wide open and my body become tense but alert. "What?"

He only nodded in reply, the movement right against the back of my head. "B-but they can't! Not enough people are fully trained yet!"

"You know how these things start." He sighed and ran a hand roughly through his hair. "They start out with only a few people, then draft more and more each month. It doesn't matter how many are ready right now."

I immediately turned around in his arms so I could look into his eyes. "You can't go. You can't leave me."

"You know I have no say in this, Dan." He kissed my forehead softly before letting his chin sit and rest there. 

I shut my eyes once more, trying to escape this reality and drift into a better, more peaceful one, but failing miserably. "I know."

The draft was not escapable. Once they took the clones away from whatever activity they were meant to be doing at that time, they get taken to a secret facility for special training. According to rumors, the program involved chains and whips as punishments. I've never seen a single clone come back. Only the clones that got through all the levels of training got drafted. Phil has been finished since last year, and I still have one more level to go. It wasn't fair that just because he ran a little faster on a test he now has to get killed for a cause he doesn't even believe in. 

"Maybe you won't get drafted. Maybe-Maybe they won't need your whole division."

"Dan..." Phil spoke softly and sadly, squeezing me tightly and pulling our bodies flush together. I blushed just the slightest bit, but the knot in my throat and looming feeling of destruction seemingly swallowing me whole quickly put out the pink of my cheeks. 

"Please." I protested weakly, tears appearing unwillingly in my eyes. "Please just let me have this hope, even if it's so fake only an idiot would believe in it." I paused and breathed deeply before lowering my voice into a whisper. "Please just let me hold onto you for as long as I can."

He hesitated before nodding silently. He kissed my head once more, fresh and salty tears clashing with his lips. "Okay."

"Okay."

Okay. We'll be okay. As long as I have him in my arms, he'll be okay. As long as I can hear his heart beat pounding right next to my ear, I'll be okay. I thought. 

"I love you, Dan."

"I love you more, Phil."

And as long as we don't have to say goodbye for good, the world will be okay. 

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A/N

Here is yet another story that I have been writing for a little while now. The chapters are much longer than my previous books, but I think I like it more this way. Make sure to comment, vote, share or whatever! Thanks!