Color Me Softly (EDIT)

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

            Now a lot of things ran through my head at the moment, mind you.  What’s going to happen to me?  Oh God, I don’t want to be experimented on!  Where the heck am I?  Who would be monstrous enough to do this?  And such, but it’s the next phrase that first makes it to my lips.

            “Who are you?” I ask, my lips wobbling as they try to inhale enough air.  I look up at him, cowering slightly.  Heavy scar tissue surrounding his stormy eyes seems to make them stormier.  Yes, his eyes are… terrifying, but, there’s a vulnerability in them that draws me to ask the next question.  “Are you alright?”

            He snorts as he leans back into the wall.  “Of course I’m not alright.”  He shrugs as he doesn’t meet my eyes.  “What else would you expect though?”

            I shrug too as I pull the blanket off the bed and around my aching body.  I look at him warily not wanting to trust him even a little.  We sit there in silence, me observing him, and him observing the wall next to me.  “Why?” I ask breaking the silence.

            He looks at me, startled slightly from the sudden noise I’m guessing.  “Why what?”

            “Why are these people doing this to us?” I ask, specifying more.

            This time, he meets my eyes.  “Look around us kid, we’ve been experimented on our whole life.  What, did you think that the different shades you see were just a fluke?” he asks, and I look away this time, but in embarrassment.  “There are rumors around, of course, of why they started it in the first place.  It started during World War II, you know how the Nazis experimented on people?” he asks and I nod as a shiver goes through me.  I don’t think this going to end prettily.  “Well, they were obsessed with light colored eyes, because of the Aryan race and stuff.  Well, some of the experimented survived the horrific injections, giving them an amazing gift.  They could see these different shades, colors.  The sky wasn’t just gray anymore and things that were black weren’t suddenly.  Some of the patients believed it was a sign from God that everything will become better.  There was even a few cases where they got special gifts, but that’s just a rumor. Before the Nazis could experiment more, though, the Ally troops took charge and put the camp where the experiments were being held to an end.

            “It didn’t end there, though.  The Ally’s took the research data and decided to continue the experiments, but they wanted to do it “ethically”,” at this he snorts.  “As if what they did to us was ethical!  At some point in all of our lives we were blind, or had some seeing disability.  The governments took a hold of that and the despair of the parents and used it against us.  Most parents would do anything to let their children have the most pristine life they can have.  And, well, if someone says they can fix your kid, they’ll agree to it even if they don’t know what the paper they’re signing says.  Oh, the governments do fix us, sure, but it doesn’t stop there.  They keep track of us throughout our lives, and they’ll pluck us out of them when they feel like it.  Sometimes a patient is even lucky enough to have their memory swiped clean and then restored back into society, although they’ll still be monitored.”  He looks at me then, away from the wall he was staring at.  “Except for you.  Somehow, you evaded the system.  Why would be a stupid question to ask, but how, that’s the real one.”

            I look at him in shock, trying to take it all in.  I know my parents mentioned to me that when I was born I had something wrong with my eyes, like they wouldn’t focus.  They told me it just cleared up though, that it was because I was born too early, although I suspect they lied to me.  Still, I know that part of the story is clear.  So is the whole Aryan race thing with the Nazis, well kinda.  I know they did experiments, but for the Ally governments to start right back up after the war?  I can’t prove that, but no matter how much I want to deny it, it just sounds… right I guess.  And, if that’s true, then it would make sense for the government to track the people who were experimented on, and they could do it legally.  After all, our parents agreed to it.  But how I evaded the system is a very good question.  I guess all that moving makes sense now, and how my parents always got low end jobs even though they both graduated from respectable universities.

            I shrug as I come out of my thoughts, looking at the boy in front of me.  “I have no clue, but I want to know too.”

            He sighs, but nods too. 

            “Wait,” I say as a thought crawls over me, “how did they find me if I was able to stay out of the system?”  His eyebrows scrunch up, making his scars wrinkle too.   I wince and look away.

            “I have no clue.”  I nod at him, expecting that answer.  Sure, he gave me a nice history lesson, but how would he know anything about me?

            “Name’s Tristan by the way,” he says, finally giving me a name for him.  He holds out a rather large hand and I look at it skeptically, biting my cheek.  He raises an eyebrow as his lips turn up into a smirk.  “It’s a hand; it’s not going to hurt you.”

            I sigh as I reach my own slimmer hand and shake his.  His face shines with a slight amusement as his hand practically swallows mine.  “Isabelle,” I reply back, withdrawing my hand quickly and ducking it back under the blanket.

            His eyebrows scrunch up and he frowns.  “Are you sure?”

            “Am I sure I know who I am?” I ask, frowning at his ridiculous question.  “Of course I know who I am!  I’ve only known myself since I was born.  Why would you ask such a stupid question?” I ask curiously.  It’s not everyday I get asked if I’m sure I know my own name.  It’s also not everyday you wake up in a governmental facility after possibly being experimented on. 

            “It’s just, you look just like the girl I used to know,” he says shrugging, his shoulders collapsing slightly.  He looks me over, his gaze holding a touch of sadness, but mostly disbelief.

            “Was she your girlfriend or something?” I ask, and then even I wince at the insincerity of my words.  “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that-“

            “Yeah, she was my girlfriend,” he says, cutting my words off.  “It ended a few years ago though; the same time she turned me in.”  I wince along with him.

            “That’s rough, sorry,” I say and he waves it off with a slight smile.

            “It’s not your fault.”  I nod with that as I let my fists relax slightly against my blanket.

            “So, can I ask you a question?” I ask and he shrugs, folding his legs Indian style under him.

            “Ask away,” he offers and I nod, biting my lip.  There’s been a question tugging at my subconscious since I woke up in this dismal room.

            I let out a breath, wondering if I really want to know.  Even I know that it’s sometimes better to not know something.  With knowledge comes power… but sometimes destruction follows.  But, if I don’t ask, my curiosity will eat me alive.  I let out a second breath as I bite my lip.  I glance at him to see his unwavering gaze, an eyebrow quirked up in waiting.  I squeeze my hands around the blankets again and I nod to myself.  I think it would be better if I knew.  “Was I experimented on already?” I ask quickly, and I watch as his expression waver slightly.  Before he can reply, there’s a clang on the door and I shrink into the corner between my bed and the wall. 

            “It’s time to leave Patient number 264,” a man with a deep, firm voice says from the door.  I hug my blanket around me closer as I start shaking.  I close my eyes, beginning my mantra again.  I am not going to die.  I’m not going to die.  I’m not going to die.

            I feel a hand squeeze my knee and my eyes shoot open to see Tristan’s eyes look into mine shaking his head no before he gets up all the way.   I watch his bare feet move towards the door from under the bed.  Even after the door is shut firmly behind him, I stay curled up in my corner.  Relief flows through me through.  That was just a dream!  Then again, how would Tristan know?  A shiver runs down my spine and I tug the blanket even closer to me as I begin to rock myself back and forth.  Tears run freely down my closed eyes as sobs rack through my body and doubt flows into my thoughts.  When will this nightmare end?