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Test Subject: Twenty
Gender: male
Age:12
Love. Attachment. Affection. Warmth. Endearment.
All of these... don't apply to us.
No, it never can because we are children with no names nor any known parents. Those things, names and parents, are for those who are able to be loved. Therefore, we don't deserve affection. That is what our superiors enforced us with: no affection.
We are no one.
Each grueling day passes by painfully and dreadfully. Our stomachs are unsatisfied by the same bland meals, our dirty shirts and pants are infested with germs from infrequent laundry, our eyes and supposedly prodigious brains enforced with handwritten tests and questions. Our whole bodies are interrogated with shots, MRIs, x-rays, scales, brain wave scanners, and all the possible medical and scientific equipment they have.
Everyday we stare at the white walls, the white floors, and the white ceilings with white lights. It drives us insane. There is one sole set of ceiling-to-floor windows fortified by horizontal bars, and whenever I look out upon the thick glass, I can see untended yard and a menacing fence beyond it, caging us in for as long as we live. However, if I squint my eyes and concentrate as hard as I can, I can see... a city. A city with unimaginably tall buildings and shimmering lights that glow in the night. A city thriving with life and economy.
Beautiful.
If I'm ever able to escape, I would escape there. Somethings, I daydream about what it would be like. Concrete buildings and a sunny blue sky towering over my head, the delicious smell of assorted foods from various bakeries and grocery stores drifting in the air. There would be joyful music played in the background by the occasional street performer, loud cars driving through the narrow and cracked streets, and people bustling everywhere on the sidewalks, being pushed from here to there on a busy day.
All the noises that fill the city—though they are chaotic—join to make...
harmony.
On this stranded "island" so-called the Settlement surrounded by invasive grass and unhealthy soil, I roam in the forlorn building aimlessly each day. My bare feet tap against the cold floor, heat from my skin escaping with every cold step I take. I exit the narrow hallway into the open room with the ceiling-to-floor windows where information is forced down our throats each day. A memory escapes from it's cage in my brain, one that I try to bury.
It's a dream where a huge tornado ripped this facility into shreds and carried us over to the other side of the fence. However, in the screaming and tumbling of the wind, I died, and I immediately woke from my adventurous sleep.
"Twenty." a voice calls over my shoulder.
I turn around to face the person. Her dark brown hair was trimmed down to the required length for both genders, her baggy clothes are worn down, and her lightest light brown eyes gloomier than usual.
"Hey, Seven."
"Are you staring at the city again?"
"Y-yeah, I guess. It's become a habit."
Seven simply nods and continues pacing across the room. I am left alone once again.
Seven is a person I enjoy communicating with even though our communication skills are greatly lacking. I constantly talk to her because she's the only one who's closest to my age. I'm the oldest one here, and it's boring being stuck in a building with people who are either too young or creepily old.
As I look out to the outside world, another memory escapes from its habitat, a rather disgusting one.
There is one scientist— I heard his name was Tanaka Daiichi or something of some sort— who I believe holds a grudge against me. Everytime I come across him he holds anger in his face. It's different from the others who wears a serious, blank face. It's like I can feel his anger radiating from his body. And it's not to everyone. It's just me. Only me.
I don't recall doing anything hateful to him. Oh well, it's not that big of a deal. It's not like he's going to harm me anyway.
I guess we can call him... special.
A light buzz taps in from the old intercom.
"One through Twenty-Six, report to the main room. One through Twenty-Six, report to the main room." the intercom demanded in a deep, scruffy voice.
Heavy leather shoe heels click against the tiles soon meet with little bare feet dragging across the same floor. Several scientists, doctors, researchers, and nurses in the usual scrubs gather in the room while scribbling things on a clipboard. They signal us to line up with a movement of a hand. I head to the far right side of the room. They glance down the row, and I glare at them, mentally venting my anger. Only until the one man who holds a grudge against me meets my eyes I stop and fidget, my gaze averted to the ground.
Weak, I tell myself.
Why was I afraid? Stupid.
"Government officials will be coming in 70 minutes. They're inspecting progress results." said the man on the far left. "You will behave as we instructed in our discipline review. No glaring" the man who met my glare earlier glanced at me once more. "or any other sign of disrespect. You are all dismissed."
We scurry out of the room as quick as we can. No one likes dictators, and no one likes tyranny. We are all cowards fleeing from reality, reality which is being manipulated by the government.
Seventy minutes pass by on the white atomic wall clock. We crowd around in a herd a few meters away from the adults. Government officials in plain black suits with just-as-boring ties and breast pocket handkerchiefs are greeted by the adults who have glazed a façade of kindness over their cruel personality. They exchange firm handshakes and formal names. After the introduction, they meet our emotionless gazes.
I avoided glaring at them, for I knew I would be tormented if I ever did- especially when the Japanese government is involved. If the eye blinked, it wouldn't have caught the quick sneer the balding official directed towards us. But I didn't, and something inside me snapped. I didn't know why, but I felt fed up with these years of torture. Now our supposedly called superiors are ridiculing us. They are so ridiculous, it makes me feel vile. I didn't care if I lived or not anymore, I just want to escape this place and erase every government and scientist in the world. Heck, I'd rather be dead right now more than anything.
"Hey," I spoke up. Each individual in the room turned their heads in shock. Even I was appalled by my own loud voice. "Who cares if you're from the government. Don't sneer at us just because we're under the control of you guys. If you think you're that great because of your status, then that's such a poor excuse for an adult."
At this moment, a deep emotion erupted from the bottom of my mind and travelled through every limb of my body.
Fear.
I did it. I screwed up. My emotions overpowered my self control. Everyone stands in shock, except for one.
The male scientist walks towards my direction. The children around me scatter away. It's the man who met my glare earlier, the same man who seems to hate me. His hand raises above his head. His face is steaming red. Something inside me told that this is the start of living hell.
I squeeze my eyes shut, anticipating the shock and pain. Immediate force hits me on the left cheek, sending me toppling backwards onto my back. The air escapes from my lungs. A lump is caught in my throat.
No, don't even think of crying. Tears are for the weak. He grabs the hem of my collar and pulls me up to his height, so close to his face. It chokes me.
"How dare you speak like that to government officials you little bratty retarded test subject. I've been keeping an eye on you lately, and you always tick me off. You still haven't progressed when we test you. You're barely close to even having the savant syndrome. If you speak like that one more time, I'll kill you." his voice is so low and quiet, it gives me the chills. His breath distantly stinks of alcohol.
His grip is still firm. I'm now gasping for air, lungs only receiving alcohol drenched air. A headache tingles at the back of my head.
Air. I need air.
I feel dizzy. My body stops struggling against his hold.
I close my eyes and hang my head low, and I let my weight choke me further more. Moisture collects on the brim of my eyelids.
Tears are for the weak.
I am weak.
HELLOOOO!
It's my second fanfiction! Woohoo! It's not starting off good(I think), but I really wanted to do this anyway. Hope you enjoyed it! Just letting you know, all the characters besides Nine, Twelve, and Five and any other original characters are made up by me, and this fanfic will alternate between many of the Athena Plan prodigies. Also, this fanfic is gonna be pretty sad, or at least I'm trying to make it sad. Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
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See you in the next chapter!
-YumeHoshi32