They call me perfect

 Everything hurt. I ran, my legs hurt so much it was more than pain, it was agony, my heart struggled against all the blood that needed pumping .Every beat was a knife to my chest. Stopping was not an option, the band on my left wrist proved that.

I moved through the maze like a cheetah, mind calculating the next turn. Left, left, right another left then suddenly I saw a light at the end of the hall .The door, just a speck of light in the distance but it brought tears to my eyes, finally.

I bolted out of the door and collapsed on to the ground panting heavily. After a minute or so of trying to control my breathing I sat up wincing “well?” I asked weakly, licking my dry lips and looking at six men and women in white coats and clip boards watching me intently, Lars, a thin ratty looking man holding the stop watch said “you’ve improved dramatically; it took only 22 hours, 10 minutes and 13.224 seconds” he said fascinated “which is a 5 hour improvement from 6 months ago”. The scientists all nod eagerly.

I nodded wincing as I remembered the agony of last times assessment and how I was so exhausted at one point I stopped only to get so painfully electrocuted by my wrist band that it left a black scar on my wrist “can you take this off now?” I asked a middle age lady named Olivia with red hair “yes, I should now that the assessment is over” she said, pathetically stating the obvious as her hand took a firm grip of my wrist and unlocked it using her key card.

“I hate the maze assessment I don’t want to do it anymore “I mumble thickly “it hurts so much” Olivia smiled and squeezed my hand “I know I dose darling but remember your suffering will save millions just like we’ve always told you, the father program is going to save this planet and you are going to help us because you are perfect ” I nodded the father program was where I was brought up, from the age of three I was fixing cars , from the age of six I was hacking military plans as a mind exercise and now at sixteen I was able to make nukes in my spare time if I    wanted ,I could lift a truck of the ground or jump  further than six meters.

That maze exercise was three month ago before I knew that this place was illegal this place was cruel, and this place was going to drag the earth right into hell, with my help.

Or so they thought.

+ + +

“Cara!” I nearly jump out of my skins at the sound of my voice being called and kick the back pack back under my bed just in time to see Debbie, my mental abilities teacher round the corner. She’s one of the relatively younger scientists here, couldn’t be older than 25, but she act like she’s lived a thousand lives of wisdom, not that I hate her or anything just wish she wasn’t such a smart ass.

“Carmelita “she snaps again “your late to class, again”

“Well I’m sorry” I mutter failing to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. I hate when people use my real name, Carmelita, except for old Mrs. Modd who named me when I was six, but it’s a better name than subject 789003.75 “Sorry isn’t goanna cut it Cara, in the mental health lab pronto” I nod and she leaves. End of story, no small talk, and the few things I like about Debbie.

 I stalk away from the door and around the length of my room which happens to be only 3 meter squares a bed, a desk, a cupboard of cloths and a full length mirror. Rooms of the future I’m told; small, functional and no extra stuff no stuffed toys, pictures, jewelry or make up, nothing “people don’t need”.

I walk over to the mirror and look at myself  ,a long almond face frowns back at me with waist length straight black hair and dark blue eyes surrounded by thick short lashes. “Three more days and you’re out of this hell hole Cara” I mutter to myself wrinkling my nose, it was only 5 month ago that I used to think this place was a safe haven .before I found the files.