The light barely shifted; a stream of harsh sunlight slipping over my fingers and burning my flesh. I was too exhausted to scream, and in a desperate attempt I quickly retracted my hand back into the darkness. A cold shiver swept over. My eyes were dried and almost glazed; unmoving spheres inside half closed sockets. "Subject #47," the sharp voice circled around the room, hitting my ears like drums. "11 years and 6 months. Day 361. Experiment 3601. The cold room." I heard the click of the speaker shutting off. The concrete felt wet, seeping in through my shirt and wrapping around my ribs. The chill stung me immensely, collapsing in my lungs and dragging my breath away. My eyes drifted shut, and powerful images overwhelmed me. Distant memories, so close I could almost reach out and touch them...hear them, smell them. If only. Those senses are dead to me. I am a black hole; waiting for my heart to stop the existence of a petty soul.
I can see a man at the front of a steering wheel. He turns to stare at me, with all his features blurred. "Mommy and me work a very special job, don't we, Lucy?" I see a woman beside me in the back seat. She's got long blonde hair that falls down to the curve in her back, but her face is blurred, like the man's.
"Yes we do, Rodger. Me and Daddy work in a big place where we try out different things. It's like trying on a shoe, sweetie. You don't stop trying till you find the fit-the perfect fit; or in our case, the right result. Maybe one day you can come to work with us-,"
"Lucy," the man interrupts. Lucy clears her throat.
"What do you think, Peter?" Lucy turns to glance at me again, but I see only a grey wall. I roll over onto my back, just as I realise the shaft of sun has moved. It hits my face like a fire, and this time a scream so wild bursts from my throat and scares me. I can feel my tonsils shake. The pain is like...nothing. I instantly recoil over onto my stomach, inches from the white circle on the floor. My forehead is pressed firm against the ground and I can feel warmth gushing down my cheeks. When I open my eyes, I see blood and feel air smoothing my open skin. I feel lifted up, separated from my body- almost. I raise my head and see the door in front of me. It's locked. Nobody's come through that door in over a year. I feel a faded pain as I slither closer to it; dragging myself along by my elbows. Finally my nose touches the door, and I let my body sink down.
"I've been a good boy," I whisper shakily, "please let me out, Mommy...Daddy."
