• The Experiment •

Chapter I: Routines

   When she got out of her small shower, a shiver traved up into her nerves as her bare feet hit the tiled floor. She reached out for the stoney grey towel hanging from a stained steel bar painted with a light strip of carmel. She wrapped it around herself feeling the warmth of the soft thick fabrics hugged her. She quickly dried off, got dressed in her new uniform. She couldn't hold back the fact that this was a major upgrade from her previous jobs, as an intern. But now, she was a full sciencist as her degree from college was finally useful. This place a spark of exicment in her mood. She looked back into the mirror for the last time. Then she again relized her long silky black hair was messily pulled back into a high pony tail. She sighed grabbing her purple brush lingering with all of her hair and beauty products, just thrown into a jamble. She pulled the thick rubber band, carefully as her head sluggishly loomed over the sink. Avoiding to cost her a sore pain in her head. She threw back her head into an upright postion, and pulled the brush down, the pointed bristles tearing through loose knots, making a somewhat popping sound. After several run downs she placed the head of the brush onto the smooth surface of the counter, dropping the handled as it it rocked slightly as the head was a bit curled. She raised up her hands to rake them through her scattered black hair. Minerva lifted the rubberband over her thumb and gathered the silk-like threads and tied it through. She did it a seconds and thrird to make sure it wouldn't pop out like on her first day on the new job. Which wasn't what she had expected it to be at all. Everything was bland, like a black-and-white movie. People were all the same- the dull eyes stained without life. Like their sprits had been broken. It was quite. odd. Minevra shook her head, the mirrior projecting her blank staring pale face. She took a sharp inhale through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. Another day, Another night, she reminded her self. She walted out of the bathroom and into the shallow hallway from once before.

  She found herself opening a metal door of the deep stainless steel refrigerator. The cold breeze wafted out of the cool frosted inside, seeming bleak and empty. " So are you making breakfast or am I making my own," a deep feminine voice questioned from behind her. She flinched at the echoe of the familiar voice. Minerva dragged the silver handle shut as the slight clamp that came afterwards. She spun around, keeping her face as serious as she could. There stood a average height fair-skinned woman with pale blue eyes glossed over with curiosity. Deep dirty-blonde hair curled into an over hanging bangs. Cut short and tied back into a high ponytail, barely even considered a ponytail at it's length. A pale yellow streaks running through her hair. A black tank top draping over her collarbone. "Camila, I see you dyed your hair once more." Minerva finally addressed, her mind wandering esle where. She didn't wish to waste her inner excitements with her only sister. It didn't seem right. "Why so serious, I thought you would be jumping with joy at this new job you got. But, nope all I get is serious boring Minerva. Typical." She stated, rolling her eyes as her upper eye lit widened just slightly. She leaned on the table nearby it's wooden touch sent a tiny serve through her body. "Why is it always so cold," Camila complained, receiving her forearm from the table. She rubbed it harshly, in hopes of warming herself. "and why do you look so formal?" The blonde added, jerking her head in the movement of a somewhat nod. "I'm getting ready for work," Minerva simply said, grasping onto a cartoon of berry mixture. As she pushed some things to the side. The cold surfaces freezing her to the bone. It's not that cold, she thought as the blonde rubbed her arms. "Would you mind if I touched the temperature?" She pointed out, glancing at the thermostat and back to her black-haired sister. As the other just yanked out the carton of juice, knocking a few items off onto the ground. Scattering them all over the tiled floor.

  With a sigh, the two sisters cleaned up the eldest's mess. "Sorry about that," Minerva giggled to shrug off her embarrassment. "What time did you have to be at work again?" Camila inquired, staring at the black-and-grey clock that rested among the wall, clean and untouched. "Eight thirty, why?" Minerva replied.

"Well, I wouldn't worry about the orange juice and the pineapples."

"Why, I rather worry about you cleaning up after me when you shouldn't be."

"No I meant!-" Camila let out an tiresome sigh. "Just look." She commanded, pointed her index find to the shinning clock. It's short hand sat in between the seven and eight will the long hand rounded elven. It was around seven fifty-six. Minerva slightly panicked, her eyes turned to shook. She stumbled to her feet in an instant, the feeling to rush overwhelming her senses. She spilled on her sleek black shoes, laces with a thick jet black string. She rushed past her blond-haired, 26-year-old sister, the wind from the air vents setting to the ground, whisping over their heads. She arrived to the front door. A chipped worn door stood infront of her. Her brothers told her they were going to fix the door by they time they decided to move. She knew it would've been a lie but she still had faith and all was not lost in her three brothers. She pushed the door up with a huff as it wouldn't budge. She leaned against it and pushed on it again. She heard the scraping sound of metal gilding over a ragged wooden frame. The door swung up in another second. She clung onto the door as it opened. "You might want to get that looked at," her sister's voice emerged from behind her. She rolled her blue eyes and spun around. Camila leaned on the door way, loosely holding a slice of fruit in her hand. "Or was that my job?" She questioned herself as her thin eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "Well, I just wanted to say bye," she swiftly commented with a  smile. She waved her left hand, holding up the red dripping liquid the drenched her skin. As the fruit was dragged in her grip. Minerva said her goodbyes and shut the door in her sister's face.

"Well this'll be a routine for a bit," she sighed, adjusting her white over-coat to look a bit more professional. She felt a tiny prick of excitement for her second day.