Nonconformity | Henry Creel

Failing

He blinked.

"So, hi," I breathed.

He looked at me as though I were something stuck on the bottom of his shoe. Regret unfurled in my gut, and he remained quiet for far too long. Perhaps he just wasn't going to respond. When I got tired of his judgemental glare, I turned to leave.

"How long have you been here?" He asked suddenly. I was far more relieved than I would've liked to admit. Facing him once again, I smiled.

"A little over a month." I looked over Two's head for a fleeting second and locked eyes with Peter. He stood near the exit as he normally did, observing the children with the same placid look on his face. I wasn't sure how long he had been watching our exchange, but once he was caught, he didn't bother to look away. I offered him a smile.

Fucker.

"A month?" Two's voice pulled my attention back towards him. He surveyed me with a raised eyebrow, "And you still can't turn on a lightbulb?"

I pursed my lips, "Evidently not, Two. Does that upset you?"

I was surprised to see such pure resentment fill his eyes. I could understand his annoyance up to a point-- I'm sure it wasn't very entertaining to watch me do absolutely nothing for minutes on end during our lessons. I'd probably be annoyed with me, too. But the look he gave me was abysmal-- far worse than I deserved.

He took a step closer. Alarm bells began ringing in my head as unwanted fear curled up my spine. "What upsets me is how much time Papa has already wasted on you," His breath fanned my face. He was seething. "You're weak. And yet he still pays so much attention to you, why?"

"Back up," My voice was low, and I was surprised at how much effort it took to keep it from shaking.

"Answer my question," He leered.

"Not until you back up."

His scowl never faltered. A tense silence settled upon us-- neither wanted to be the first to step down. It occurred to me that Papa's reach went much deeper than I originally thought. These kids weren't putting up with him solely because they didn't have a choice, they were putting up with them because they loved him. Like starving dogs, they fought amongst each other for even the smallest fraction of his attention. And it had always been that way. The only person ever willing to treat them as something more than a test subject was Papa. What they failed to realize, however, was that the way Papa loved wasn't natural. He asked things of them no parent should. He poked and he prodded all in the name of science, and then he brainwashed them into believing they had to comply and cower beneath him to be lovable.

The look Two gave me was possessive, not angry.

Finally, I relented and staggered back. "I'm sorry," I whispered, though I doubt he heard it.

I was summoned to Papa's office after lessons. A guard accompanied me, though he wasn't much for conversation. We walked in utter silence, and my displeasure seemed to grow with every step we took. Talking always managed to distract me from the endless billowing of the air conditioner. Without it, my head ached and I grew rather irritable.

We took one final turn down the blaring white hallways and came across a wooden door. "This is it," The guard said. I stared at him unsurely; I'd never been to this part of the facility. Especially not on my own. His stony face never softened, and his tone remained firm, "Go on, then."

I exhaled wearily and walked past him. After rapping harshly on the door, Papa's voice called 'come in' and I continued into the office.

Immediately upon entering, it was clear the space was solely occupied by Papa. The office almost looked staged. Everything from the pens on his desk to the way the chairs were arranged screamed his name. As did the lack of pictures or gadgets or anything that so much as hinted towards a real person inhabiting the space. It was minimalistic, muted, and thoroughly lacking in any discernable personality.