P.H.O.B.I.A.S. (Paranormal Home of Biologically Improved Attributes to Society)

I remember when I used to hate the darkness so much, that I would bang my fists against the cell door and scream for someone to let me out. I can’t even remember what I was scared of. Maybe it was the fact that when the guards came to drag me back to my cell for the night, I realized that it was the only time in the day that I was alone. And back then, I hated that.

But now, seven years later, I’m pretty much over it. I actually enjoy the few hours I get to be by myself. But, or course, even that tiny bit of solace has to be interrupted at some point.

My head snapped up to the sound of my door unlocking. It opened, letting in the bright, irritating light. I squinted, and got up from my little cot before the guard could bark orders at me and wave his stick around like the idiot he was.

"Alright, alright! I'm going!" I snapped as he pushed me out of my sad excuse for a cell. I knew where to go, so I walked ahead of him. After all, I've been here for, about, ten... eleven years, maybe. The guard put his hand up to the palm-pad on my cell to lock the door again. I pushed past guards who were literally throwing kids out of their cells. They glared at me as I shoved through them, but I didn't care. It's not like they could really do anything to me. 

The Director would have their heads if they did..

I made my way to the Director's office, and burst through the door like I owned the place. The Director was sitting behind her desk writing in a file; probably for a new, as they say, "student". I plopped down into one of the guest chairs and waited for her to look up. I surveyed the room, bored. It was kind of like a bigger, more modern version of the cells us "students" are given; the pure white floors and walls, the giant, silver desk, the flat screen TV. on the back wall, and the cool air that reeked of anesthetic made my room look like a broom closet.

She looked up from her work and smiled that sickly-sweet smile she knew I hated. "Gen M1! It's good to see you. I trust you slept well, dear?"

"The answer's going to be the same as it has been for a decade, Joan. How can I sleep knowing I'm stuck in this hell-hole?"

She gazed into my eyes, and for a moment the sadness there seemed genuine. It was getting more and more difficult to determine what was sincere and what was fake for those past few months. I hoped she really was in misery. She deserved it.

She closed her warm, green eyes for a moment and sighed. Then out of nowhere, she flung her hairpin at my face. I had just enough time to concentrate on the object before it could pop one of my eyes out. The sharp pin floated inches from my face. 

Joan tossed her brown hair over her shoulder and began scratching something down on her clipboard. She smiled. "Good job, Gen M1. Your telekinesis has improved immensely since our last meeting." 

"So now trying to maim your student counts as a test? That's insane. Oh, right. I forgot. This place is insane!"

As my voice rose, the hairpin quivered. I thought of turning it around, making it stab her somewhere vital. Oh, how tempting the thought was. But that was what it would have to remain-- just a thought.

Ultimately, Joan had the leverage against me. When I first arrived, she knew I was a special one.

"I can see it in your eyes," she had said, "and in your hair, and in the set of your jaw. Precious thing. You must think yourself strong... Let's change that."

She had the scientists plant a chip inside me, a little device that electrocuted you from the inside, right below the heart. The shocks were strong enough to stun you for a few minutes. One moment, your heart would pause mid-beat, and the next it would hammer against your ribcage, rendering you motionless and vulnerable.

All the times she stunned me, played back in my mind. It was a wonder that I was still alive. Anger boiled inside me. I dug my nails into my palms, hoping the pain would squelch my rage. From there, it only worsened.

The pin soared across the room and shattered into millions of silver splinters. They hit the marble floor with a chilling sound, like thousands of needle tips clattering to the ground. It was a sound I wished wasn't so familiar.

The sound took me back to the day of my first experimentation. I remembered the sting of the light in my eyes... the pinch of the restraints on my arms and legs... and the screaming. So much screaming...

I couldn't let Joan see me like this, remembering the past when I was most vulnerable. She never missed an opportunity to bend and twist my mind at its weakest moments. No point in giving her a free ticket. So with all the restraint I could muster, I got up, excuesed myself through gritted teeth and left the room.

I made sure I was a safe distance from Joan's office before I started running. The memories came like a torrent. I gasped for air and my forehead beaded with sweat. I remembered the sharp pain of each of needle plunging into my skin. I gripped the metal railing, trying to steady myself. Instead my knees gave away, and I clutched my head in a futile attmept to push the pain to the back of my mind.

A small, firm arm wrap around me. I looked up to see Gen H2, a boy I had grown close to over the years, smiling down at me. "Hey, girly, what wrong?  You didn't break another nail, did you?"

I smiled a bit. We both knew I bit my nails to the bone.

I blinked back my tears. "It's nothing. Want to get something to eat?" I asked. He saw through my guise, I knew he did. Still, he said nothing. We walked down the deserted hallway, enjoying each other’s company and most all, enjoying the silence that was rarely found in this kiddie prison.