Ace, At Your Service

"It all feels wrong, until it feels right, am I right?" A lean piece of shit looks down at my mom, directly, spitting a sly smile through his coked out teeth. Eyes green with greed and genetics, he leans over to the paper with a well oiled pen.
"What Dean means to say is that we could always go the round about way, or we can see if our research, our weapon, all of our years of hard work can work for ourselves." A bald headed snipe with grey steel eyes pulls the attention in the room.
"Ourselves?" My dad backs his chair up, looking nothing like the 2 other men in the room, polished, gentle, hell, just brushing your hair would set you apart from these guys..
"Well...we wouldn't try the vial...its made for one man.. or..." the snubby greasy tweaker spared a moment.
The moment when my mother and father's eyes zeroed in on their minds instead of their hearts, the moment any future I possibly had vanished.
"Or.. 2 children."
It only took a small hesitation before they looked at each other with the same wonder in their eyes.

Let's play a game.
What do you think they chose?
One of them, or their own flesh and blood?

My brother was 12, and I was 9. I was starting 3rd grade, reading books that my teacher lent to me. I was wearing leggings with bubbles on them and swinging bats at balls.
My brother, learning the slow curve in flirting with chicks and excelling in math and science, starting basketball for the school team.
One week before summer school started our parents took us to work for their experiments, and we never went home. We never came back.