• The Experiment •

Chapter I: Routines

   As the sun rose along the vast horizon. The dim sunlight filtered throughout the softly teal painted room. A familiar, irritating sound rang out. Minerva groaned as she raised from her cozy sheets. Her narrow face tilted down at her covered legs. She rubbed her pale blue eyes, drenching them in a lack of energy. She tossed the lavender sheets aside and swiped her legs over the edge of the bed. She stretched out her arms, echoing out was the the slight pop of her joints. She exhaled through her nose, bringing her arms down to rest onto the bed. The curt sounds from a small rectangular device still bounced from the walls filling the room. She rolled her eyes and placed her feet onto the cool wooden floors. A shiver climbed up her spine as she started to walk along the smooth surface. She picked up the small pitch black case with an softly glowing surface. Reading, ' Six o'clock; Wake up for work!' in a fine print font. She exhaled in a sigh and tapped her thumb onto the screen. The loud noises soon came to a sudden cease and she rolled her pale blue eyes. She placed the device back down onto the low-set pearl white dresser. Her eyes adjusted over to the tampered with curtains, slightly open. The light trickling through as small dust particles flowed through the air. Lined by the new harsh glow of the sun through her window. I'll have to dust some things off later, she thought to self, turning back to the dresser. She reached out her hand and gripped onto the bleak steel handle. Minerva retrieved her hand, opening the cabinet with a ear piercing squeal. She shut her eyes at the sudden squeak. "Damn." She whispered in a tired voice, reaching up to rub her pale pained ears.

  Finally, after a moment of silence she rummaged through her shallow dresser. Occasionally, throwing peices of clothing out or shoving them to the side. She yanked out a long white overcoat with a neatly stitched pocket, a pale baby blue shirt to go along with it and finally some slim dark blue jeans. She thought it was a bit stereotypical at first glance but just shrugged it off. This was her uniform after all. She folded it back up, quite uncaring and all over the place. She laid it over her arm and took a few steps toward the slightly broken down door with marks and scratches lingering on it, she pushed the old thing open with a huff.
    
          Stepping past, she wondered why she didn't bother getting it fixed. It just never really bothered her, much. She shut the down with a loud clank, as it locked back onto its hinges, stiff as a board. That's going to be a pain later, she thought once more with a roll of her eye.  She then opened up the nearby door that didn't seem as broken down as the other, but still had slight bumps and cracks here and there. She grabbed onto the knob and yanked the door open as it scrapped against the same wooden planks. Behind the barely functional door stood a standard bathroom. She hummed to herself as she prepared to get into the shower. She turned the dial to heat the water, letting it run for a bit. The pitter patter of the many droplets hitting the ground filled the room. She pulled a maroon colored toothbrush from the cube-shaped container and a slim tube with a label pasted onto it. She raked it swiftly across the brush, watching as a pastel green came from the malleable container. She turned the dial on the sink and wrapped her hand along the handle of the toothbrush and ran it under the sink for a second. The mint green paste sinking down into the bristles. After minutes of brushing she relized, the clothing still rested on the base of her forearm. Foaming paste down her mouth she raked her arm over the edge of the mable counters in hopes the clothing would just get off her arm. But to no avil, that did not happen. She internally gave a sigh of fustrastion. She spat out the soap and noticed that that egdes of the shimmering mirror were coated in a slight fog. She rinsed off the maroon toothbrush and ran her thumb over the softened bristles, and repeatly rinsed it. She dropped the brush into the cube container , noticing a pastel mint toothbush with a metal handle laid flat on its side. Did Brian really forget this? She narrowed her eyes at the sight of his toothbush still lingering as he had always planned to work in the engineering, but he forgets something as simple as a toothbush? This spiked irritation within the black-haired girl. She took a deep breath in and stripped of her pajamas and stepped into the steaming showers. She turned the temparture dial as her back stinged, feeling as if she was being thrown in a volcano ready to blow. She felt relieved as the water finally adjusted.