Young Writers Society

Experiment

Imagine: getting burnt beyond repair, but you can't feel it. Getting cut deeply, but you don't notice that you bleed. You always seem numb. You don't feel numb, you seem numb. Because you can't feel. Great, right? No more pain or that insistent, sad ache deep inside. But it's not great. Oh, no. The world is dull. You don't feel love, happiness, nothing. No emotions. You stand there, staring, blinking - though you don't feel the need to blink anymore. Like a hollow body that wouldn't notice or react if you tackled it, punched it, or stabbed it with a knife from behind.

I am an Experiment. One of very many, in fact. And I went horribly Wrong. So I sit here on the floor, staring ahead, blinking occasionally. I'm told the floor is hard and cold, not that I would notice. They told me I would need to stay here. For a while, at least. Until theycan Fix me. They give me food, but I barely taste it. I can't feel it move down my throat like I seem to remember. I can see the plate in my hand, but I can't feel it. It should be resting there, between my scrawny hands, but I really wouldn't know the difference if it wasn't.

And sometimes I wonder how I got like this, so Wrong and in need of Fixing. They sometimes tell me I lost some memory in the process of being an Experiment. When I went Wrong. I don't know what my reaction is supposed to be to this news. I don't know how to react. What is anger? Sorrow? Joy? Hate? Jealousy? I don't know or remember or really care to find out. Some of them sound so horrible. I am empty, though I'm not quite sure how empty is supposed to feel anymore.

"April," my name is called softly from the door. My eyes move and register one of them. Male, tall, dark hair that curls slightly around his big ears, bright gleaming eyes. His name is Jack. I met him after I went Wrong. He makes me take all sorts of tests and he always talks to me differently than the others. Like I'm still full and not Wrong.

Jack is not alone. In walk two more people, but they aren't a part of them. Man, medium height, dark hair that hangs short and straight, dark menacing eyes. Woman, short, light hair falling down her back past her shoulders, warm but tearful, sad eyes.

Jack speaks slowly. Differently. As if I am empty and Wrong."These are your parents, remember them?"

Stare, blink, stare. Them? They aren't a part of them. Jack said they are parents. I feel nothing. Should I?

"Your mom and dad. Parents."

My mom and dad. I don't recognize them. My head moves side to side. Did I move it? Their expressions change to some unknown emotion. They leave the room. Words whispered outside the door. I don't bother to listen. One of them, not Jack but a female, enters. She kneels near me.

"Don't you want to get off the floor? It's not very comfortable," she says uncertainly as if she thinks I can't understand her.

Comfortable?

"Come on," she urges. I see her hand grip my wrist and she pulls me up. Well, I think it was her. I didn't pull myself up, did I?

I'm now staring at the ceiling. I look to my left. There's just a blank wall. To my right, something wide and wide stretches out. It seems I am lying on it. It is flat and blank before dropping off like a cliff.

"There, that's better on the bed, hmm?"

Bed. The word registers slowly. I'm on a bed.

"Get some sleep," she suggests with a smile.

Sleep? What does sleep feel like?

She bends over to peer into my eyes. I blink, my vision going off for a millisecond before returning. When it returns, she turns to leave. The lights blink out and I stare into darkness. Is this sleep?

Color: blue. Word: sky. I stare at the paper blankly, the answers running through my mind. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Response, reaction, the things I don't know how to do.

Bright staring eyes lock with mine. I stare back, with the occasional blinking and shutting off my vision. My eyes close, enveloping me in darkness. Sleep, I think.

Jack's voice breaks through. Vision returns as my eyes open. "Sky. Blue."

Blink, stare, blink. Color: blue. Word: sky. I knew that.

"Let me take you to your room."

Room. Bed. My bed in my room.

Moving through hallways. All I can do is blink, stare, blink. Ceiling, white, blank cliff, bed. Blink, stare, blink, sleep...

"She's not getting any better," Jack murmurs.

"We'll start her on the pill today." A woman. The woman.

Blink. Stare blankly. Look at the woman and her hand is on my wrist again.

She reaches up to my mouth. A sour taste enters before slowly disappearing.

"There. Good. Now you should get better. If you don't, I don't know what we'll do."

They are trying to Fix me. Because I am an Experiment that went horribly Wrong. So I need to be Fixed. I look at her blankly before I'm back on my white cliff.

Color: black. Word: dog. Color: green. Word: grass. Color: yellow. Word: sun.

The list goes on and on. I sit, like every other day, across from Jack, staring at the paper. The answers always pop into my mind but nothing else happens. He always gazes at me and then says, "Let me take you back to your room."

There, I only can stare off the endlessly white cliff and wonder about what sleep is.

Over the next few days, I see the woman even more. Each time, I watch silently as she touches my mouth and I taste the sour taste. I stare at her, blinking. Sometimes I see her grab my wrist and we move through endless hallways. Everything appears to be endless here. My "mom and dad" don't show up again. Today I have a new visitor, she says.

He enters the room cautiously, eyes darting around. I stare, blink, stare. Male, medium height (like all the rest), dark smooth hair, stormy eyes, muscular, probably about my age. When we lock eyes, he smiles brightly.

I sleep for a few seconds, listening to my breathing, before returning.

"How is she?" he asks, talking about me, I'm guessing.

"She seems to be doing better, but we don't see many signs. We are giving her medication, but it doesn't seem to have any effect," the woman says.

Effect. Funny word. I giggle and the boy's eyes lock with mine again. He's not a man, but a boy.

"April, remember Mark?"

Mark....

"He's your boyfriend," the woman says. I only stare at her, unblinking.

She makes an odd noise and murmurs to Mark, "She doesn't even remember her parents."

"She has no feelings at all?" he asks quietly.

"Not that we can tell. She relies heavily on her sense of sight, sound, and taste. We have to keep her here until she gets better - if she does. She'll be unable to function in the real world without her sense of feeling. She doesn't talk to anyone, either, though we are sure she is able to. The whole experiment went horribly wrong. I really did think that we might be able to rid humans of that annoying feeling of pain, but I guess we were all wrong."

A flash of emotion flashes across Mark's face. He balls up his fists and glares at the woman.

"I'll leave you two alone," she says and scurries out.

Mark stares at me. He comes over slowly. I sit completely still and stare into his stormy eyes. "April," he murmurs. I study him. He's very handsome.

Then he leans towards me and hugs me. I can't feel it, though. I rest in his arms, but it feels no different. I can smell his scent. It seems familiar...

Something that sparkles in the beams of sunlight falls onto my leg. It leaves a splotch on my pants and looks like water. Where did it come from? I can see Mark starting to shake and I can hear him making inhuman sounds. More drops of water dot my pants and my shirt. Some even make it on my arms, but I obviously can't feel them. My arms wrap around him, though I don't know how this happens.

We stay like that until the shaking stops and the water doesn't fall any longer. Then he says he must go. His eyes are shining with water. That's where it came from. He was crying. I don't remember how it feels like or what emotion it's linked to, but he looks very... emotional.

Jack takes me to his office once Mark leaves. He looks to have a lesser case of the same emotion as Mark. I wonder where all this emotion is coming from.

He points out my blue shirt which still has a few stains of water on one shoulder. "Are you alright?"

What does alright mean? I wonder...

"What happened in there?" Jack asks when I don't answer. I never answer. I don't know how, but I try. I want to make the emotion in Jack's eyes go away. It doesn't seem like anything good.

How do people speak? Move their lips and tongue. But I can't even tell if mine are moving or not. I close my eyes and concentrate on forming words in my mind.

Cry. That's the word I want to make come out of my mouth.

"Cry." Like a miracle, the word appears! I look to Jack to see if the emotion has left yet. It has, replaced with something that looks better, not nearly as bad.

"Did you just speak?" he asks as if he can't believe it. I hardly can myself. "Cry? Is that what you just said?" he continues to try to get some confirmation.

I can't answer. I don't know how I said anything in the first place.

"Did your friend cry?" Jack tries again.

My hand comes up to touch my shoulder, memories of Mark's water still left on the damp cloth. Jack leans in to put his hand over mine and nods.

"Crying goes along with sorrow, sadness," Jack says, smiling at me. "And smiling and laughing go along with joy, happiness."

I giggled today, but I didn't feel anything, did I? I remember I had found something funny.. A word.

Seeing something in my face, Jack's eyes get big and round. "Have you felt something?"

"I think so," I hear myself say when I concentrate again. "I..laughed."

"You laughed? This is great! I can't believe it. The medicine must be working."

I see Jack grab my hand (not my wrist like the woman) and we go down the hallway faster, running? I think so. "Dr. Carry!" he shouts as we run.

The woman appears quickly at an open doorway. "What is it, Dr. Stevens?"

Dr. Stevens? Must be Jack's professional name.

"She laughed. You were there, right?"

Dr. Carry smiles. "Yes, come to think of it, I was. I didn't give it much thought at the time!"

This is a good day, I decide. Maybe there's a possibility for me to get Fixed!

And then something odd happens. I stumble and fall. I find myself staring at the floor, caught by Jack's strong hands, but something disgusting and brown flows up from my mouth. It tastes like the sour stuff I've been having.

"Obviously, her stomach doesn't seem to agree with us. We're going to have to change her pill."

The next day, Jack brings the taste, but it's not sour. He looks happy. He's smiling. I remember what he told me yesterday. "Crying goes along with sadness and smiling and laughing go along with happiness."

The taste today is sweet. I like the change.

Jack smiles at me as the taste slowly disappears. "Good, April. This one should go with your stomach better. Hopefully it will work even better as well."

I try to smile back at him, but I can't feel where my mouth is.

"Today your parents are coming back. I told them the great news."

Great news. Maybe I will get better, Fixed.

Then Mark and Jack won't have to be sad. And I don't have to go through all this. So empty.

"Can Mark come back?" I ask. Last night, I was practicing getting myself to talk. I seem to be getting much better at it.

"Yes. I'm sure he'd love to hear how much better you're doing already. Everyone will be stunned!"

Stunned?

He must see the question on my face, because he quickly explains, "Shocked, surprised."

Oh.

Jack leaves.

A few moments later, he's back with my parents, he says. He doesn't have them come in the room yet. Instead, he holds a secret conference with me.

"April, can you try your hardest to talk to them, to remember them? Don't you remember anything before you came here?"

I think. I realize that I do, slightly. I remember having a family and a boyfriend, but no real details.

"My parents..." I say.

"Yes. They're here."

He goes to get them and they enter the room. This time, they look slightly familiar. They walk right over to me on the bed. I try to smile, but I still don't know if it works or not.

"My mom and dad," I say, looking over at Jack.

They both let out sighs and my mother lets out a shriek and starts crying. I look around, puzzled, and meet Jack's eyes. He rushes over.

"She still doesn't feel much and is very confused with everything. She thinks that you are upset, because you are crying. I don't think she understands all the emotions yet. It could take some time, but the medication she's on will help."

"Oh, thank you! Thank you! I'm so glad she got put in such great care."

Jack looks away. "I just wish this didn't need to happen after all. And when she heals, she might not be able to feel a few things. She got damaged pretty badly."

My mom and dad eventually calm down and leave. Jack comes back, smiling. I feel something tugging at my lips. Wait. I feel! I jump up from the bed and a hand rushed to my mouth. I can feel the smooth skin of my lips which are curled in a small, hesitant smile.

It's a smile nonetheless.