The Girl Who Cried Dauntless

Chapter Twenty-Five: Phobias

I found myself wearing a white lab coat surrounded by beakers filled with different liquidly contents and microscopes locked on the magnification of 100x. This was the set-up for a biochemical lab in the Erudite compound.

Scientists walked carefully up and down the lab's isle, examining the specimens on the slides. Occasionally, a scientist or two would adjust the fine adjustment knob to get a clearer image of whatever they were studying.

Even though the lab was alive with productivity, I ignored the scientists' light conversations about their collected data and focused my full attention on the man in the corner of the room, observing the other's work procedures. His ice-blue eyes drifted from scientist to scientist and then back to a clipboard that he held in his hands. It was clear that he was the head scientist. The one that oversaw that all experiments ran smoothly and to the liking of Jeanine.  

Everyone in Erudite knew this man for not only his outstanding academic accomplishments, but the fact that he was in great favour of my mother, the main representative of this faction. So in favour that they got married and had a child - me.

I could affectionately call the man overseeing all experiments in Erudite my father.

"Our time in here is done for today. I'm sure you already know this, but waste products go in here," my father held up a large beaker meant for waste, "and put the slides back in correct order after you have cleaned them. You know what a neat freak Jeanine is." Everyone in the room laughed, including me. It wasn't an uncommon practice for my dad to teasingly poke fun at my mother when she wasn't here.

Jokes and jests weren't a common thing for an Erudite to do, especially not an Erudite born into the faction, but my dad never failed to make a joke where he could.

One by one, everyone emptied their beakers into the waste beaker and cleaned their slides, leaving the room straight after.

When the last of the scientists left, my father started making his rounds to account for the equipment and that no damage came to them. "You could do something productive and help me, Adelaide." His back was facing towards me, but he turned his head slightly to me. One of his eyebrows raised in a jokingly unamused expression. "Right away, dad." I started assisting him in turning off all the lights of the microscopes and rinsing out all used beakers.

"Who left this here," my dad's voice held an annoyed edge. I looked back to see him eyeing a beaker still set up. He reached into the pocket of his lab coat and took out protective goggles. "Addy, you want to give me a hand here instead?"

I happily left the cleaning of the beakers for later and went to help my dad.

Upon my arrival he shoved googles at me and I put them on without hesitation. We inspected the substance within the beaker. "Can you see how it's bubbling?" I nodded at my father's question. "Do you know what that means?" I continued to look at the beaker questioningly as if it was the thing to of asked me the question instead of my father. "There's been a change in its composition, which means what kind of reaction is occurring?"
"A chemical reaction," I said, my voice sounding more assured of my answer than my brain.

"Yes! Perfect!" My father beamed at me proudly despite him having to feed me the answer. He looked back at the substance and his overjoyed expression turned to confusion, making me also look at it. Now it was bubbling and popping at twice the rate than before.

"I've never seen anything do that before," he muttered to himself curiously. "Stand back, Adelaide. I don't like how this thing is popping." Obliging to his wish, I stepped back.

As though simultaneous with my moving back, the contents of the beaker started to puff and sputter before eventually splashing out at my dad. It coated his gloved hands and some got unto his lab coat, but I was more worried about the bit that got into contact with his face. I rushed to get him a towel, not wanting him to use his gloves to wipe it. Before I could even get the towel to him, I could already hear him hissing in pain and a sizzling of some sort.

Bringing my attention back to him, I saw my father clutching his face while smoke was coming off. The chemical, I assumed, caused the burning reaction and was deteriorating the skin on his face. His hissing now turned to full-blown cries of agony and with each ear-piercing cry, a wave of heavy tears flowed down my cheeks. Sobs racked through my body as I realized I couldn't do anything but watch. Nothing in the lab had any use in this situation. The eye wash station wouldn't work. The fire extinguisher wouldn't work either. The fire blanket gave no use either. And I doubted the towel I was going to get for him would do anything either.

"DADDY!" I ran up to him, my watery eyes still frantically searching the lab for anything to offset the effects of the burning. "Your mother! Get your mother!"

The orders turned out to be unnecessary since my mother's voice spoke from the doorway. "What's happening? Your yelling is interrupting-" My mother instantly cut her own sentence off when she realized the state of my father. In an unusual change of character, she dropped her cold, uncaring mask and bolted away from her entourage. "Nicholas!" She cried, horrified. Her eyes scanned the room to look for anything to help, much like I had tried to do. "This lab is illy equipped! More than half of the safety equipment isn't here!" In her voice, clear desperation was evident. Her eyes slowly began to fill with tears as she looked down at her husband withering with pain.

The action made the sobs come out faster. I've never seen this much emotion radiate from my mother, especially not emotions prompting tears.

My mother pried my father's hand away from his face to assess his injuries. A gasp of horror left everyone's mouth, including my mother's. In some places on my father's face, the skin completely peeled off. It left just splotches bone and some skin which was barely intact, but the burning still didn't appear to be slowing down.

His screams only lasted for another couple of minutes before nothing was heard anymore. His body went completely limp and motionless.

My screams mixed with my mother's, echoing throughout the room. Her head sharply shot up to met mine before signalling something to the group of people she came in with. Two of the biggest people in the group walked up behind me and gripped me from my biceps, applying pressure and dragging me out.

I thrashed against them. Kicking and screaming and crying in the hopes it would get me to the lifeless body of my dad.

As if someone had pulled a plug to my emotions, my body too went lifeless. The realization that my was father was dead and I had failed to keep him alive finally resonated in me. I failed to keep him alive and my mother failed to keep him alive. It was our faults. I closed my eyes and just allowed them to haul me out of the room.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the room. Tears streaking down my face and panting.

Four sat in the computer chair, not looking at me but recording something into the computer.  "This doesn't usually happen," he said vaguely, still not looking at me. "What doesn't usually happen," my words came out shakey. Not yet feeling I was safe in my environment. "When the serum triggers a reaction from the amygdala, it's suppose to create a hallucination. For you, it triggered a negative memory which produced the most fear in your mind instead."
"How old were you?" Four asked as he finally looked away from the computer. "Ten." I said, getting out of the chair quickly. I avoided Four's gaze and just as quickly as I got out of the chair, I left through the door, wiping the tears and calming my breath before I did.