A Beautiful Reflection From Firework Eyes

I Never Meant To Hurt Nobody

(Five months ago)

The next few months go by, every day about the same—me using my powers until I physically can't stand up anymore. I don't fight back again, just follow whatever instructions they tell me without complaint. It seems to have placated Mr. Styles. He's stopped watching me so carefully during my sessions, opting to let the other scientists do so instead.

So when the buzzer beeps and Mr. Styles enters the room, I'm not expecting it. Jaime and I both look up from our beds, staring in confusion. He almost never comes into our room. Usually, he sends one of the scientists instead.

"M-37," he says. "Come with me." I get to my feet, apprehensively following him out obediently. I flash one last confused look at Jaime, who shrugs.

"Good luck," he mouths at me. I give him a grim smile in response as I'm led out of the room.

I wonder if I've done something wrong. I don't think I have, but who knows? I've been following instructions, keeping my head down. So what is all this about?

We don't head in the direction of the Dark Room. The knowledge relaxes me as I follow them up the stairs and to the Study room.

He stops and signals for two of the guards to come forward. I instinctively tense, but they don't hurt me. They only strap the familiar contraptions to my wrists. When the guards step back, I shift the contraptions, so they're not digging into my skin as much.

"You've been doing very well lately," Mr. Styles says, breaking the silence. "After your little setback," he makes a disgusted expression as he says the words. "We are glad to see you are back to normal."

I'm not sure how to respond, so I just nod.

"Today, we have a special task for you. Since you've shown so much potential, we have a test." He crosses the hallway, opening the door for me. "Go ahead. We hope you will show even more progress after today."

I step through the doorway, apprehensively into the dimly lit room. The lights flick on in the Study room, brightness making me wince. I scan the room, the familiar-looking white walls, before freezing when my eyes travel to the shape in the center of the room. My heart almost stops when I fully take in what's waiting for me.

I turn to stare in horror at Mr. Styles, who looks calmly back at me, motioning for me to move forward. I do so, my legs shaking, thoughts whirling through my mind. I can't do this, can I? I promised to be obedient, but can I really do this? It could have been any other day, any ordinary day where they made me burn random objects, a tire, a desk, or a stack of papers. They could have let me have an easy day—a typical day. But not this time.

Because there's a person tied to a stake in the middle of the room.