The Bionic in the Basement - Lab Rats

Chapter 1- Letters to Drake

Dear Drake, 

Hey! So I read online that Egypt's getting a heat wave. Think you can handle it? Ha ha! Anyway, things here aren't much different. Still in the basement, ☹. I wish I could meet Adam, Bree, Chase and Leo. I mean, come on! We lived in their basement's basement since our births, and we haven't even met them. This is like the world's most sad, lonely, basement apartment where you don't even get to meet your landlord face to face. Pretend I'm sighing. Sometimes, I wish they'd find me. Like, they'd see the button that opens my door, and they'd press it, and walk right on it, and we'd become friends. That's be fun. It could happen! Dad's always talking about how they screw stuff up! Maybe they'll screw my hidden existance up, too. 

Anyway, respond back ASAP! I miss you!

XOXO, 

     Eden

         (PS, are you still watering that fern I gave you or did you let it die?)

I sealed the letter to my brother, and folded it neatly into two divisons with three creases. Did you know that you are only allowed to write numbers with two didgits or more in numerical symbols, but singular numbers must be written in standard form? I licked the envelope shut, adding the adress, return adress, stamp, and doodle I always drew on the side where the flap was. 

"Eden?" I heard Dad call.

"Yes?" I hollered back, annoyed. The stamp peeld off at the edge, and wasn't sticking. I pursed my lips, twitching my arm ever so slightly, only to feel the rush of blood that went through the veins of my arms when my bionic chip activated my super-strength. I balled my hand, and punched the envelope hard enough to seal the sticker on. Ever since I was born, a chip resided in my neck, giving me abilities that no other human had. It gave me enhanced strength, increased speed, and heightened intelligence. My father, Donald Davenport, had me grow in in-vitro fertilization (meaning I was born in a test-tube instead of a womb). There, he spent 9 months critiquing me, giving me these abilities, placing the chip in a socket below my collarbone... he wanted me to become a superhero. Save the world. But unfortunately, these powers were very hard to control, so I had to hide away in his basement until I wrestled my powers enough to work under my command. When they fire off randomly, and accidentially, we call it a fluke. When they fire off due to emotion, we call it a glitch. Bionic people aren't allowed to have high emotions, on account of the fact that the chips in our necks can't handle it.

YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE HEAT!

Okay, I have super intelligence, but I don't act like it sometimes. Isn't that phrase for some sort of barbecue sauce comercial? 

"Aren't you supposed to be training? I don't hear the sounds of drones being blasted!" Dad shouted from behind the small, hidden door that led to my... bedroom? Training room? Secret underground laboratory? Wow, he sounds like a mad scientist now. Well, secret bionic superhumans that he's keeping from government agents on acount of the fact that we glitch often, without warning, and severely enough to explode everything in a stretch from Mission Creek, California to Saturn. (A/N: You mean you could OPEN SATURN? Ha ha ha, it wasn't funny, was it?)

"I'm taking a break, remeber?" I asked, arching my eyebrow as he walked into the room.

"No. I don't recall this." Dad said in an aggrivated tone. "Come on Eden, keep going! The faster you train, the faster you get to meet Adam, Bree, Chase and Leo outside of my colorfully-worded stories."

"Dad, you always call them 'a bunch of kids that mess stuff up.' The only thing colorful in that sentence was... I don't know where I'm going with this criticism." I trailed off.