❝Just because I'm smaller than you doesn't mean that I couldn't easily take you in a fight.❞
Subject: Carter May
Number: 17
Age: Nine
Sex: F
In which the nine-year-old test subject escapes, using the powe...
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WHEN HER EYES opened, she immediately shut them again. Not that it did much, thanks to the light that was hanging over her head. The light still tried its best to make its way through her shut eyelids. She knew where she was. Just like the other times she had been to room 23, when she woke up, she was always in this room. Nothing ever changed in her life. She had the same routine each day, ate the same food and was woken up at the same time.
Numerous wires were attached to her body. Some monitoring her lungs and heart, some pumping different substances into her body.
Thoughts of the water tank filled her mind, no matter how hard she tried to push them away. It made her feel weak; she had been drowned many times, yet she still couldn't handle the aftermath.
"Welcome back, Carter."
The voice filled her with hatred. It coursed through her veins, making her want to do nothing more than strike out, but she kept still.
A sigh escaped Dr. Smith's lips.
"If you just did as you were told, you wouldn't be put in this situation."
Sometimes Carter wondered if he was right. This could be all her fault. Why didn't she just listen? Put up with needles and do what she was asked. Was it really that hard?
"Twenty minutes and you'll be on your way."
"To where?"
"Room 3." Impatience was laced in his voice, telling her that he didn't want to answer questions.
~\☆/~
Twenty minutes later, Carter was brought to room 3 by the guards. She was quite grateful about that being her end destination. As frustrating as that room was, it was one that didn't cause her heart to beat rapidly, or her hands to shake.
It was white like all the other rooms in the facility, except this one was padded. The door was metal, the grey a sharp contrast against the otherwise fully white room. The wall on the other side of the room was a mirror, a two- way mirror. She knew that many other doctors stood on the other side of the cool glass, watching her. As she waited for the voice to boom through a speaker she didn't yet know the location of, she stared at her reflection.
She was small. She didn't know what the average height was for her age, for she had never met anyone her age. Yet she still knew she was petite. Her brown hair was pulled into a low pony and still damp, causing a quick image of the tank to come to the front of her mind, before she shoved it away. A pale grey t shirt and pale grey trousers were the only things she wore.
Her whole appearance looked sad and broken, just like her spirit.
