Are We Human?

Chapter 2

That day was spent doing things for each other. Phil went to his training and while he was gone I snuck out to the kitchen to grab a little extra food for the both of us. We sat in my room afterwards, eating wild berries the head chef's wife picked and cracking jokes about the guards. We went to our afternoon training sessions soon after and I came back to my room to find Phil sitting on my bed with a stack of blank paper and a bouquet of flowers. I thanked him with a small kiss, and read my own stories and tales aloud to him as the sun dipped below the horizon to bring an ending to the day. Phil ended up sleeping in my room that night. 

And that was a pretty good day. We smiled and laughed and kissed freely and without consequences and were altogether happy. But the very next day took a turn for the worst. 

When my eyes opened that morning, I knew something was somehow off. The sun didn't peek through the window quite as brightly. The temperature in the room without air conditioning wasn't quite as warm. The look on Phil's sleeping face wasn't quite as gentle. 

His face was all scrunched up, a nervous sweat breaking across his forehead and falling down to his temples. All of his muscles were tense and tight, like they were being pulled into place by a particularly angered guard. His nose was pressed up like he had just smelled something terrible and his eyebrows were furrowed in deep concentration trying to figure out what it was. 

He was still as adorable as ever, though. 

I rubbed my thumb gently over his glabella to smooth away the heavy wrinkles. He immediately sighed in content, letting his body relax as well as his face. I smiled at my success (even though I barely did anything), kissed his forehead softly, and made my way out of bed. I walked over to my discarded clothes thrown haphazardly on the floor and put them right outside the door. A guard would replace it with a new set soon, but not until noon strikes, when all of the clones in the household would be gone at lunch. 

I quickly threw on my preset pair of clothes and grabbed my ratty old notebook. I stood directly underneath the tiny window in order to get some light so I could write on the paper. Starting the task was difficult, but once my pencil hit that fresh stack of papers it started dancing freely across the pages, mind racing faster than the lead could possibly write. I let my feelings flow through the object and out to the world until tears stung in my eyes and my throat closed around a sob. I set the book back on the shelf and pressed the palms of my hands into my eyes. I began crying. 

I attempted to remain quiet, as Phil was still in a deep slumber behind me, but that was proven ineffective when I felt a strong pair of arms wrap around my waist from behind, just like yesterday. I immediately turned around and wept into Phil's unclothed chest, gripping onto him as tightly as I possibly could. He held me close, rubbing my back in a comforting way, attempting to calm me down. After a little while, I could feel my own shirt becoming moist from tears that were not coming from me. This only made me cry even harder. 

We were rudely interrupted by a loud thud on the door. "Breakfast! Get ready quick, ya Kips!" I flinched at the mean nick name, but still pulled away from Phil and began to comply to the orders. I quickly began wiping my wet cheeks and fixing my messed up shirt. 

Phil grabbed my hands to stop me from doing anything else. "Dan." His touch was gentle, soft fingertips gliding over my skin ever so smoothly. "This is not goodbye, I promise."

I nodded and took my hands away from his, wrapping them around my waist in a form of self hug, a habit I created for myself when I was smaller and didn't have anybody. He put his clothes on fast, then kissed me. His lips were cold but loving, still slightly wet from tears. We kissed for a long while before I pulled back sadly. 

He cupped my cheek in his calloused hand, letting his thumb barely roam over my skin. "C'mon. Let's go." I nodded in submission and he pulled me through the door and to the cafeteria at the other end of the camp. 

The walk there was silent but heavy. Our hands were clasped together tightly, afraid of what would happen if we let go. The air surrounding the entire camp ground was somber and exhausted, the morning air stinging the eyes of the newly awoken clones. 

We reached the cafeteria with hearts of hurt and nervous, twitchy movements. We went through the line, each receiving our serving size of oatmeal, watered down milk, and almost completely brown bananas. We sat down at a table near the very back of the concrete box and started quickly scarfing down our food. The only true choice us clones got to make was where we sat at each of our meals. Otherwise, we were always told what we had to do and what we couldn't. What to eat, how much, where to pee, when to shower, what clothes to where, when to have an original thought in our heads. It was refreshing to have at least one choice to make. 

I barely had gotten half way through my mushy banana before a guard sauntered up to our table, an air of confidence and superiority to him. "Are either of you Number 351?"

I gulped as Phil slowly nodded, hand crawling over to reach for mine. I accepted quickly and firmly grasped his already sweating fingers. "Please come with me, sir."

"Why?" Phil mumbled back, a slight edge in his voice as he scooted just the slightest bit closer to me. I was sitting in surprise at the guard calling him sir that I didn't make any move towards him. 

"Because I said so, Kip." The man replied, frustration clearly evident in his tone. We both flinched away from the horrid nickname and his anger. The guard rubbed his face in slight shame with one of his gigantic hands and softly sighed. "You've been drafted, kid. Come with me now and I'll make this easier for you."

I let go of Phil's hand and instead gripped his upper arm protectively, but not hard enough to leave bruises where my fingertips indented his skin. "You can't take him." My voice was surprisingly firm for the nervous feelings fluttering in my stomach. 

He grabbed Phil's other arm and roughly pulled him slightly up from his spot. "You're coming with me. Now."

The man yanked Phil the rest of the way up from his chair and away from me, my fingers sliding off of his arm and leaving light scratch marks. The man attempted to put his arms behind his back, but Phil lashed out suddenly and hit him square in the jaw. I gasped at his sudden violence, but quickly stood from my seat to try and support him. 

Other guards ran towards us, two holding Phil back and shoving his arms behind his back, two holding my own arms behind me, and one kneeling down next to the fallen man. I struggled and screamed against the men, arms pulling and thrashing wildly. 

Another person walked up to the scene. I couldn't get quite a good look of her at first, since my arms were thrashing about and all my focus was set on getting away from the grasp of these idiotic men, but I could tell it was a woman. She was dressed in loose blue clothing and a long white coat that almost reached her ankles. She held a sharp syringe in her manicured fingers, face pulled back in a wicked sneer. She grabbed Phil's midnight hair and pulled back fiercely, forcing his head away from her. 

Phil screamed out in pain as the needle plunged deeply into the pale white skin of his neck. "Phil!" I called out pleadingly over the guards. His body began to fall limp, eyes rolled far to the back of his head. He was completely unresponsive in only a few seconds. 

"No!" I yelled in agony, my whole body igniting with pure fury. The woman then walked over to me, grin on her face from my clear torture. She pulled a second syringe out of her coat pocket and quickly snapped it into my neck. I could practically feel the drug seeping into my veins. 

I struggled against the numb feeling for as long as I could. It slowly filled my bones, my muscles tensing up then falling completely powerless. I willed my brain to fight the ever present darkness, but I could feel it consume me. 

Just before my mind gave in and unconsciousness took complete control, I heard a piercingly loud voice ring clear through the emptiness. "Take him to the Wacky Room!"

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A/N

Sorry this is like a week late, but last Tuesday was the Fourth of July and as an American I was obligated to participate in barbecues, camping, and fireworks. It was terrifying.