The Perks of Being a Freak (Editing)

13. The Second Time (Of Many) That Tony Is A Jerk

I sat behind Emily in our brand-new, shiny, steel cage, pressing the healing cuts against the cool metal. I hand Emily’s thick black hair between my fingers, and was doing my best to plait it into a thick crown around her skull.

It had been three days since Dr. Hanson had told me that they planned to murder my best friend. It had been three days since I realized that we really, really needed to escape. It had been three days since I broke one of the small bones in my hand punching Dr. Hanson’s nose into his skull.

Three days of testing. Three days of running on treadmills or through mazes. Three days of sleeping in cages, and of testing my wings. Three days of praying for night, and then being terrified when it did come. Three nights of sleeping on the floor, cold, alone, terrified. Three days of playing with our new telepathy. Three days of disgusting hospital gowns, and hardly ever seeing each other. They kept Emily and I separate from the boys. They were going to keep Emily away from me, because she was “damaged”, but I pleaded. I begged them to let me stay with her. I couldn’t be alone. I would go crazy if I was alone.

They didn’t let me fly. It would be too easy for me to get away if they let me into the sky. Instead they had me flap her wings against a pad as hard as I could, and it measured the force. You could sure as hell bet that if they let me into the sky, I would be out of there so quickly, and back in a day with police, and a SWAT team, and the FBI, and the CIA, and everyone.

For the most part, we all did as we were told. We got up when we needed to, showered when we were told to, and ate what was given to us, but in reality, every action was a small rebellion.

Every second of hesitation before answering a question, every time we didn’t sprint on a treadmill, every night, when we lay awake talking to each other, was rebellion. Even though it was all miniscule, it was there, and it spoke volumes about our hatred.

I hate this, I snarled mentally, twisting and tugging at Emily’s thick locks.

We all do, Lia, Tony replied dully. He was so bipolar. He alternated between fits of sullen silence and lashing out at them all. Mostly me, followed in close second by Emily. I knew that he was worried, terrified really, about his siblings, but I didn’t know what to say.

“Hey I’m really sorry that we’re trapped in here, being experimented on, and I really hope your brother and sister are alright!”? No way. Tony would kick my ass or attack me verbally or some other awful way of retaliating and I didn’t want to have to deal with that.

Did I prefer a sullen, sulky Tony or a loud, violent one? There really didn’t seem to be an in-between between his two moods.

I finished Emily’s braided crown and tucked the end underneath a clump of hair. I had found my hair tie, but it currently held my own locks away from my face in a vibrant braid down my back. It made my greasy hair and skin so much easier to bear when my hair wasn’t hanging in smelly clumps over my face and shoulders.

And the braid was my  first defense. Ever since I was young my tight braid had been my walls.

Now I pulled the tip of the braid between my teeth and gnawed at it. Over the past three days I had developed the habit of chewing at my hair, my nails, even the skin around my nails. Even though everything was dirty and greasy, I still chewed. The end of my hair was stiff with dried saliva.

Emily scooted to the other side of the cage and sat against the bars. She was the only one of us who wasn’t actively tested on. They didn’t even have her do the physical tests. She was broken, and they were going to get rid of her.

We need to get out of here, Rajeev said for, at least, the eighth time that day.

Can you both shut up and stop whining? Tony’s mood had taken an expected swing and now he sounded angry.

Rain, rain, go away! Emily whimpered.

And shut the psycho up! Tony commanded.

Don’t call her a psycho! Benny interjected angrily, defensive.

No! Just… everybody stop! My mental voice was the loudest of all. Calm down. Breathe.

Tony was swirling angrily, violence condensed into vapor.

This… frustration is all understandable. I began, trying to organize my thoughts around the tumultuous emotions and thoughts that bombarded me from all sides. We are five people who barely know each other, and suddenly we’re forced to share… brain space. It’s hell. Now I know that this is hard, but we all need to have a little… compassion, I guess. We’re all going through this, and we need to understand each other.

And how do you suppose we do that? Tony shouted. Rajeev rebuked him gently, but Tony continued on. Like you said, we barely know each other!

Maybe that’s the reason we’re so… snappy. We don’t know each other, and maybe we should.

You want us to share our deepest darkest secrets? How did that boy manage to make every single syllable sound sarcastic. That’s idiotic and ridiculous.

Maybe it’s ridiculous, but I don’t see you coming up with any better ideas, Benny defended me.

Well then, Tony glowered. Who wants to start?

Dead silence.

It was my idea, I volunteered, kneading at my battered hospital gown and tugging a the braid with my teeth. I’ll go.

Are you telling us your life story or are we asking you questions? Rajeev asked, ever curious.

I had a sort of similar idea, I said, and then I dropped my walls.