The Human Zoo (1)

Chapter 7 - Priya

My eyes dart back and forth as I see people on the other side of the glass stop to look in and then move on. It has been five days since I was tranquilized and taken to the petting zoo. Five days and the skin on my neck is still not healed. They didn't bother to fit us with appropriately sized collars; the point of the random assignment was to test their ability to work—not their comfort.

Benjy and I sit in the den out of the rain. It is a room on the inside of our enclosure between the sleeping area and bathrooms. Typically, we sit outside when it's raining, but today it reminds me too much of my few days at the petting zoo.

It's small compared to the sleeping room, the largest of the three. The walls are a sickly yellow, like the nursery, while the floor is standard cement. There are a few odds and ends in here, some books and wooden games, but no one knows how to play them, so they sit like us, wasting away.

It's nice they felt comfortable enough to leave reading material in here considering we are "stupid animals" with no formal education. I laugh to myself as I pick up a book and read the title: Brave New World. They wouldn't guess a genetically impure, disgusting animal like me would take the liberty or time to teach themselves, but I know who the real idiots are. And I've learned that expectations always come back to bite you in the ass.

"Priya, what do you think they're thinking? You know, when they look at us." Ben asks, trying to distract me from my wayward thoughts. I know he is trying to drag me out of my pity party, but I can't help but think of how little we know about the world out there, why it's so different from the world in here. The obvious answer is power, and we have none.

There is a subtle hierarchy in this place. If you want to call it that. Ben and I are on the bottom due to my "personal opinions" and what they label as my "defiance." From a young age, I've learned that people either want to be governed or want to be the one governing. I've seen what happens without it. People become consumed by themselves, unable to function in the world without rules to tell them what to do. Here in our enclosure, we have a small system, one like a provisional government. There is a leader, the oldest person in the compound. They solve simple disputes and delegate punishment for the worse possible crimes as if punishment is not a normal daily occurrence here. They also try to keep control as if a group of animals understands order and peace.

Our current leader is kind and just—especially compared to our last one. Most didn't even speak to the previous leader due to her brutality. The viewers loved her; she brought more entertainment than the rest of us combined. Eventually, she was put down. No one knows why. She disappeared, and no one asked any questions. Not that we would have been heard.

Once again people are not happy with our new leader. An irrational need for power, a side effect of desperation, has left people fighting for strength, rendering the weak useless. Often, the weak are just that—weak—and end up becoming vegetables. The unhinged animal nature in us is stronger than the human part of us. In those cases, I understand why we are in here and encased in this life. So, I just do my own thing, and no one pays me any attention. I'm stuck here. Caged, like the animal that I am.

"Priya, I know I asked you a hard question there, but maybe you could respond soon so I don't die of boredom."

Suddenly, I remember that Ben was talking, and I finally respond. "Right. Well, they are thinking about what side dish would go best with you. Don't you know they eat us? That's why we're in here. They're farming us."

"Ah, makes sense. The truth is finally out. Hopefully, they pair me with broccoli. I hear it's great with firm, succulent meat," Ben says pursing his lips and flexing.

I roll my eyes. "What do you know about broccoli? Besides, you seem more like a potato guy to me. Bland and soft in all the wrong places."

"Ouch, you wound me," he says sticking his lower lip out.

"Oh, you big baby. I'm just teasing."

"I know," he says grinning before pulling me into a hug.

We've always had this brother-sister relationship. But lately, I've noticed a shift in his actions—small glances when he thinks I'm not looking, and soft touches whenever he gets the chance. I've tried my best to ignore it, but one of us should concede eventually, whether it's me being honest or him giving in.

"You're ridiculous," I laugh, untangling myself from his arms and turning back to the viewing window. The heat from his body simmers into mine.

For a rainy day, the viewing window holds a crowd of viewers. At least twenty people of all ages stand and stare at us, taking pictures and laughing uncontrollably, pointing toward us. In the far corner, I see a young woman with stark blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. The image of the women with the metal box pops into my mind. I scramble back against the cement as the fear and panic collide with reality.

"Priya, you okay?" I move again, bumping into Ben.

"Yeah sorry. I thought I saw something." Gently he turns me around, and his thumb caresses my cheek. I look up at him. Ben's dark brown eyes stare down at me. A smirk slides up half of his face. An aura of safety and comfort spread out around me. They are addicting, but his eyes implore me for something I know I can't—no, something I don't want to—give him. I bite my lip in guilt. "Priya I'll always be here for you," he says.

"I know. But I promise, I'm fine."

I want to pull away, but he keeps staring at me as if contemplating what to do next.

"Ben . . . I . . ." my words are cut off as he closes his eyes and moves his face toward mine.

My skin breaks into goosebumps as the unfamiliarity of this situation and his lips graze against my own.

In a heated moment, I shove Ben away screaming, "Don't touch me!" The force catches him off guard, and he falls backward onto his elbows. I drag myself away from him and run out of the den.

I can hear him plead, "Shit! Priya, wait! I'm sorry!"

Heading straight for the concrete tunnel that leads outside, I start to heave myself hand after knee through it, scraping the delicate skin until it bleeds. I plunge into the fading light, hoping the rain washes away the guilt.

"Priya," I hear Ben's soft whisper echoing through the tunnel. "I'm sorry."

My eyes peer into the dark cement cylinder. Shadows hide Ben's frame. I know his mouth is quivering with guilt, and his eyes are glossy, asking for forgiveness.

"Leave me alone, Ben. You crossed the fucking line this time," my voice comes out ominous like subdued thunder in the distance. The severity of it startles me. Still, I remain firm as I turn away from him for a second time.