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evanna

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evanna

ALONE. THE WALLS whisper it around me like a taunt, like a tease, like a trigger. Alone, alone, they echo. Alone... I press one palm to the warm marble table I lie on and push myself up. Swinging my legs around, I let myself down onto the floor— and I stagger, crashing into a metal container whereupon stands a rack of two dozen glass test tubes. I watch, in momentary paralysis, as the rack falls. One by one, the glass tubes shatter, and I continue to watch with blank eyes as they splinter within the proximity of their protector.

The thought brings a grim smile to my face. That is the problem, with people over you, those more powerful that you, those that believe they can protect you, shelter you. When they fall, you fall as well. That is why I am better. I needn't rely on another person to survive.


The container rattles as I push myself off of it, my feet feeling numb, my sense of orientation raw and dizzying, brand new, blinding.

The walls continue their barely audible assault on my thought processes, now catapulting information towards me, but there is nothing of importance there to note. Just more insult, more junk, more nonsense to add to my confusion.

Where the hell am I?

Stooping, I pick up a shard of broken glass, turning it around in my fingers, watching as the sharp edges slice at the pale skin. What falls is no longer clear, but transluscent, dyed pink.

Wiping my hand on the uncomfortable white gown I wear, I make my way towards the entrance— but something strong, something uncomfortable holds me back.


A sharp tug against my movement causes me to back up and inspect what this thing is. It is a wire, fitted to the back of my waist. Lifting up the gown, I inspect the way it's fitted into my flesh. It is almost like a socket around a plug, a socket surrounded by flesh. Shaking my head, I pull. It budges, and I feel a sharp pull along my spine. I hesitate, then give the wire a twist, and the pull returns. It is, however, only something directly linked to my muscle, so it won't damage my spinal cord; therefore it isn't dangerous, I conclude. I give it another few twists and with a cry, wrench it free.

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