Prolouge Pt. 1

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     My entire life was spent in a cold, desolate room, behind bars. From the moment I opened my eyes as an infant, the only other living being I have seen other than myself, was a man in a tidy white coat wearing rectangular glasses. The man who introduced himself as my father since discovering my ability to comprehend human language. In my miniature living space on the tiled floor, he would usually leave me with study material: science, mathematics, literature, humanities... everything that a "normal" five year-old should have been well versed in.
At least once a week, my father would carry me out of my cage and strap me to the metal table in the centre of the room. On a trolley next to him, would always be an assortment of different fluid that would be injected into my system, each one varying in size, colour and viscosity. I could tell from the books my father brought me that I was currently being experimented on... illegally. My father, who started his research from the moment of my birth, had not received my permission as I was too young to comprehend human language, and considering my absent mother figure, he did not receive her permission either. Even so, I am unable to leave for several reasons. The first being that I have nobody to contact. The only communication device I have set eyes on my entire life was the phone that my father kept in his back pocket. The second being, I would have nowhere to go after exposing my father's crimes. And so, I wait...

Months later, my father sauntered up to my enclosure and pulled my tiny self out, bringing me towards the door. For the first time in my entire life, I had seen a setting different to the one I was raised in. It was just like in the books given to me. A normal house. There was a connected living room and kitchen, and door leading to the bathroom, one much more efficient than my small one back in the enclosure. My father dropped me onto the coach in the living room, placing a human biology book in my lap before smashing some numbers into his phone and wandered up the stairs.
Half an hour later, a mysterious female individual walked into the house, holding what was supposedly the house keys. My father came down to greet them, they exchanged a few inaudible words before the woman strutted towards me, grasping my face between her fingers, examining me with a discerning eye. Her bobbed hair was ebony with streaks of amber, and her face adorned a large gash-like scar across her right eye, hence discerning "eye".
"She's a mess," the woman clicked her tongue, "I had better be getting my pay's worth for this, especially on a holiday like today."
"Of course, my sponsors have been paying quite a hefty amount to see their experiments succeed, there's no need for me to be stingy with my wealth," my father responded stoically.
The woman smirked back at him and proceeded to "work" on me. Trimming my untamed hair, filling my chipped nails, giving me a thorough bath, scrubbing every spot free of grime. By the time she was finished, I realised I actually had silver hair instead of the initial dull grey that I thought it was. She fitted me into a silky night gown before presenting me before my father, who nodded in approval as he handed her a wad of money.
"Ya know, she looks a lot like her mother, it's uncanny," she remarks as she flicks through the bills, counting every dollar. "Ya think she's gonna have a voice like her as well? She might make it big like her mother right now."
My head tilted to the side slightly, interest in knowing my birth mother rose to the centre of my thoughts. However, my father dismissed the thought before the conversation could continue. If it wasn't obvious before, it was now, that my father had a currently bad relationship with my mother.
After the woman left, my father sat me down at the dining table, giving a rough idea of the future plans.
"Listen here," he said, "today is the twenty-fifth of December, your birthday. It is also the day you become six years-old. I'll let you know now, one of the many experiments I have been testing on you is the enhancement of human intelligence. One of my biggest sponsors have requested that I show results for my research if I want to continue receiving his support. Therefore, you will be going to primary school, taking classes, living like a normal yet not so normal child and using your test scores as evidence for me to present to my sponsors, so don't hold back for even the slightest second, you hear?"
I nodded my head submissively.
"For now, you will be going to the nearby kindergarten until the next school year starts in April. School starts in two weeks. During that time, I will give you time to wander around the neighbourhood, examine and understand the norms of society... and surpass it."
I nodded my head again. My father held his stare for a good minute, with a yearning look in his eyes. But that flickered away as he lifted me up again and brought me to a room upstairs. He simply uttered "your room" and shut the door as he left, a soft click of the lock being heard.
Taking a closer look at my room shrouded in darkness, I could faintly make out the silhouettes of a large bed, a wardrobe, an exceptionally large book shelf, a desk in the corner of the room and... a barricaded window. It was completely blocked off by an iron shutter, not allow any light through, almost as if there was something my father was trying to hide from me... or from himself. Deciding not to ponder on it too much, I felt my way towards the bed and crawled in under the blankets to shield myself from the cold winter night.
Just as I was about to fall asleep, a thought flashed. The woman from before, although indirectly, mentioned that my mother was still alive and was furthermore in a position where everyone knew about her. In that case, wouldn't it be considerably easy to find her, contact her, and ask her to rescue me? Although there was no assurance that my mother would want to see a child she had never seen since giving birth to them, it was still my best shot at leaving this imprisoned lifestyle and living a normal life. Having planned everything out, I fall asleep peacefully.

     The day after I fell asleep having a fully developed plan in store, I woke up to the sound of my bedroom door unlocking. My father walked in and told me to come get my morning rations. Not wanting to get on his bad morning side, I hurriedly scurried out of my bed and followed after him with wobbly legs, not used to the aspect of walking considering my tight enclosure for the past six years.
     Much like any other day, he provided me with a fist-sized loaf of bread, a fried egg, an assortment of boiled vegetable and a small glass of milk. My father was difficult to understand. His actions conveys his care towards me as his biological daughter, however his voice remains cold and monotonous when speaking to me, as if he were conversing with an object. That was the line my father drew between us and was another reason why I find it difficult to leave him, knowing he cares a bit for me.
     After eating, he told me to get dressed in something appropriate for walking around. I climbed the flight of stairs yet again, entering my room and scanning through my wardrobe. Taking into consideration the images of children I had seen in the books I had read, I managed to pick out an adequate outfit suitable for an outing in winter. I met my father who remained at the dining table, sipping his coffee while reading a newspaper. I waited for him to take notice of me at the stairs, but his eyes remained glued to a specific spot on the newspaper, eyes swirling with so many indescribable emotions: sadness, longing, relief... and love. Curiosity peaked, I approached silently behind and stood on my toes to take a glance at the page he was staring at.
     But he took notice of me immediately and snapped the papers shut and placed it on the table. He looked down at me from his seated position, scanning my wear, before deeming it appropriate and giving me a small shoulder bag. It was quite heavy, and looking inside was quite a large amount of objects.
     "You can go anywhere you want within the space of the forest out back to the park down the street. Just come back before sunset, got it?" He lifted his hand and placed it on my head, patting it softly. I nodded and walked towards the front door, attempting to take a quick glance at the newspaper he was reading before. Although it wasn't the exact page he was reading, I recall from the number of pages he held in he left hand as he was reading the paper, that it was the page after the front page. Considering how there was only a large image of an angelic woman printed on the front page, I would assume the next page he was reading was about the woman named "Lillian" whom he gazed at with such a longing look in his eyes. It would be needless to say, that she was most likely my birth mother.

3rd POV
     Upon leaving the front entrance of the house, the young girl was greeted by a rush of cold air. But she was far too amazed by the span of land that laid before her eyes. An entire landscape covered in white, glimmering in the first rays of sunlight. A shiver ran down her spine, tingles of excitement. Her eyes shimmered as she took in the beauty of the world before her, a scenery she had never seen with her own eyes except it books. With a deep breath, she took her first shaky step outside the premises of the house that kept her captive her entire life.
     The first place her legs brought her was the forest mentioned by her father. She was fascinated by the long stretch of trees and the branches that were blanketed with an ivory sheet of snow. Out of curiosity, she threw a rock at one of the branches to see what would happen. Much to her fascination, the snow fell off in a large lump, some of it being flicked a slight distance, knocking some snow off the neighbouring branches. Before she realised, her child-like self that failed to reveal itself all these years surfaced as she threw rocks gleefully at branches and witnessing the falling snow. She was having the most fun in her entire life until she her a yelp from behind a cluster of trees.
     Her heart hammered in her chest. She had read in a book that sometimes, you would find wild dogs and they would attack if provoked. Fearfully, she dug through her bag, pulling out a small army knife, holding it behind her as she approached the source of the pained cry. As she got closer, she could make out the sound of grumbling, indicating the being she hit was a human. From behind a tree trunk, she peered from the side to see a young boy slightly older than her with spiky fair hair with green tips. He laid on the snow as he held the back of his head in pain, surrounded in what appeared to be ropes, bottles, and several hardware tools.
     "Honestly, what even was that?" He grumbled as he looked back, from the direction he assumed the flying object to have come from. It was then he took notice of the young girl that was hiding behind the tree. His flaming ruby eyes met her jewelled sapphire ones in awe. "An angel...?"

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