Nonconformity | Henry Creel

I Got It

"Are you giving me swimming lessons?" I asked, "I don't think that's what Papa meant by training." My voice echoed oddly in the room. The sound of the ventilation was louder in here, but it somehow didn't bother me as much as the air conditioning did.

"Not today, I'm afraid," Peter's voice was beside me. I had almost forgotten about him for a few moments, too busy marveling at the expansive pool in front of me. "I'll explain everything after you change. You'll find a bathing suit in the locker room-- take your time and come back out when you're ready. I think you'll enjoy the exercise I have planned today." He pointed to a set of doors at the other end of the pool, "The one on the left."

I offered him an appreciative smile and began towards the locker room. I tried not to walk too fast and reveal just how excited I was. Sure, I was exhausted. Sure, I wasn't happy with where I found myself. But for the first time in what felt like forever, I was genuinely excited. I imagined water lapping overhead, shutting out the entire world until it was just me, floating, utterly weightless. I wonder if swimming was something I enjoyed before all of this. The scent of chlorine and the soft, rhythmic sloshing of water felt so innate.

I entered the locker room. It had the same tiled floor and bright, luminescent lighting as the rest of the lab. The decor was almost exactly as I imagined it. Bland, colorless, muted. A few rows of white metal lockers lined the walls, separated by the occasional white bench. On one wall, a mirror ran from floor to ceiling. The entire room was sterile, and I got the impression that it wasn't used very often.

There was no air conditioning in the locker rooms.

For days on end, it felt as though a million people were whispering in my ear. The harsh, sharp billowing of air had nearly driven me mad. My mind felt overrun at all times-- beyond overstimulated. Finally, it had stopped. And my relief was euphoric, coursing through me like a liquid diamond.

With a dumb, giddy smile on my face, I made my way toward a little box sitting on one of the benches. I opened it up to reveal a bathing suit. Or-- what was supposed to be a bathing suit. It was quite ugly. Colorwise, it resembled a bandaid. Once I pulled it out of the box, my brows furrowed. Odd, plastic panels ran along the side of it, and the bottom half extended all the way to the mid-thigh.

I stripped out of my hospital gown, leaving it on the ground in a crumpled heap. I made a concerted effort not to look at my naked body in the mirror as I pulled on the bathing suit. It clung to me like a second skin, and when I turned around, it looked as though I had sprained my entire abdomen. The bathing suit really did look like a worn, unsightly bandaid.

I frowned.

I suppose my waist looked alright, at the very least.

My eyes lingered on the mirror for a few more moments, drinking in the bags under my eyes and the '016' on my wrist. I hardly even recognized myself. When I first arrived, I pictured this version of myself, utterly repulsed by the thought. I would have rather died than become what I was now, desperate to avoid such an awful fate. My reflection felt like a mockery. I'd been reduced to a nightmare version of myself after swearing I would never allow it.

This place had taken far too much from me. Some days, it was easy to get wound up in the chaos of it all. My siblings, training, Papa, Peter. They proved a worthy distraction. However, the gnawing feeling that I should not be here always managed to resurface. I craved an unexamined day where I could wake up as late as I wanted, bathe in the morning sun, and then pass a lazy, perfect afternoon without a care in the world. That was the first thing I would do once I left.

If I left.

I peeled my eyes from the mirror and exited the locker room.

Peter was waiting for me near the door, already equipped with his easy, light smile. He glanced at my bathing suit, then back at my eyes, "Ready?" He asked. I nodded, still not quite managing to shake the dreary thoughts from my mind.