I woke up in a laboratory, realizing that I had been crying in my sleep. I had cried most nights since I'd been told Emmaline had drowned.
This was the third time I'd woken up in the laboratory. They would inject me with something, and I would be in a horrible amount of pain for about three hours. Then I would stop feeling altogether.
They only did it once to the other kids. But they said it wasn't working on me. I didn't know what was supposed to be happening.
I noticed Max writing something down while my father messed with a vial of silver liquid. I turned my head and saw my mother next to me.
"Mommy, what's going on?" I whispered, scared to speak too loudly and upset my dad.
"It's okay, baby girl," she promised, stroking my hair. "You're going to be okay."
"Aurora, you've been through this before," my father reminded me. "You'll be fine."
"This is the last time," Mom decided, looking at my father now. "If it doesn't work this time, we'll leave her alone."
"No, that's not how this works, Leila," Max spoke up. "I don't understand why this isn't working."
"She and Emmaline had a very strong connection," my mother pointed out. "They could communicate without speaking. Just like she does with Aaron."
"She's forgotten Ella," Dad said. "After two rounds, she forgot Ella. So after this, or maybe just a few more rounds, she will forget Emmaline as well."
I felt my lower lip trembling with fear. I turned to my mother, my eyes wide with desperation. Why wasn't she stopping him?
My mother began to cry, and while she tried to hide it, my father noticed. He sighed in frustration, turning to her.
"Leila, if you're going to cry, get out," he warned her. She wiped her eyes, standing up.
"Don't leave me!" I begged her, tears finally forming in my eyes. "Make him stop. Please, Mommy."
"It's okay, Ro-Ro," she whispered, kissing my forehead. "You'll get through this, and then you won't even remember."
"I'm scared," I confessed. I wanted to grab her, but my arms were strapped down.
"Get out, Leila!" my father commanded, causing us both to flinch.
The needle was suddenly in my neck, and I barely had time to scream before the pain silenced me.
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I sat at the table with my mother for lunch that day. I was told that a girl named Juliette was coming over to join us.
There was a knock at the door, and my mother stood up, walking over to it. She answered the door and pulled the little girl into her arms.
The little girl burst into tears as they pulled away, her face going red. I watched her curiously.
"I'm Mrs. Anderson," my mother told her. "But you can call me Leila if you want." She nodded, wiping her tears. "Aaron, take her upstairs and I'll make you kids some snacks."
The two of them went upstairs and my parents both came back to the kitchen. My mom came over to me and leaned down, kissing my head.
"Mommy, why did you hug her?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.
My mother looked at me for a long time, her eyes filled with sorrow. My father cleared his throat, and she snapped out of it.
"Her parents died," my mother said. "She's going through a hard time, and I thought she might need a hug."
"Oh," I said indifferently.
"Would you like a snack, Rory?" she asked me. I nodded as she placed a plate of cheese and crackers in front of me. "I'll bring the rest up to Aaron and Juliette." She went up the stairs, and I was left behind with my father.
"Will she live near us?" I asked the man as he sat down next to me.
"Maybe," he replied, looking down at me.
"Maybe," I mocked, wrinkling my nose. "You already chose her family. You know where she's going to live. Will she live near us?"
"Don't nag at me, Aurora," he warned. "You know better." I rolled my eyes, staring down at my plate.
"Juliette's lucky she doesn't have a father," I mumbled, not thinking before the words left my mouth. I expected a smack to the face, but instead, he laughed, shaking his head.
"You're very outspoken, I'll give you that," he mused. I sighed, crossing my arms.
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"I don't like your experiments," I was complaining to my father as he led me down a hallway.
"All you have to do is go into the room and talk to him," he promised. "He's only two years older than you. You two can play together."
I looked at him, uncertain. That didn't sound too bad, but I could never be sure with him. Sometimes, his experiments started out fine, but turned out horrible.
He opened the door of a room and I walked in, seeing the little boy sitting on the floor. My father nodded at me and closed the door.
I wasn't sure if we were being watched, but I usually had to assume that I was. I stepped over to him and sat down.
"Hi, I'm Aurora," I said, holding my hand out to him. He shook my hand.
"I'm Adam," he introduced himself, and I could tell he had been crying.
"I'm sorry if he was mean to you," I said to him.
I did not say that that man was my father. Not only was I ashamed, but I was told not to refer to him as my father in front of this boy. I didn't know why.
"He's mean to everyone, if it makes you feel better," I shrugged. Adam nodded. I noticed a bruise on the boy's arm. "Did he do that to you?"
"Yeah," he admitted, staring at his lap. I pulled up my sleeve to show him the scars on my burnt arm.
"He did this," I told him, trying to make him feel better.
"I really hate him," Adam confessed to me, his eyes filled with a sorrow I knew too well.
"Me too," I agreed, nodding. "How old are you?"
"Eight," he replied.
"Oh, you're only a year younger than my brother," I said, though he hadn't asked. "I'm six."
"You have a brother?" he asked, seeming curious. I nodded. "I have a brother, too. He's just a baby, though."
"What's his name?" I wondered.
"James," he responded, shrugging.
"That's a nice name," I informed him. "What about your parents?"
"It's mostly just my mom," he shrugged. "She's amazing. I don't like to talk about my dad, though."
"Don't worry, I don't like to talk about my dad either," I grinned.
"What about your mom?" he wondered. I smiled.
"She's the best," I recounted. "I love her a lot."
"I love my mom, too," he nodded.
The door opened, and my father walked back in. He said some things about the experiment being over, and told me not to move. He led the boy out of the room.
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I didn't know what was happening. All I knew was that my mother was screaming and my father was trying to get her to calm down.
She was in an extreme amount of pain. So much pain that my seven year old brain couldn't even begin to comprehend.
"Aaron, take your sister upstairs," Dad demanded.
Aaron grabbed my hand and led me up the stairs even as I tried to fight back. I wanted to go to my mother and make sure she was okay.
"Let go of me," I argued, trying to wrench my wrist out of his grip.
He didn's listen. He just dragged me up the stairs, ignoring my protests. He pulled me into my bedroom.
"Aurora, stop it," the eleven year old chastised. "You're too old for this."
"What's wrong with her?" I questioned. He sighed, picking me up and placing me on my bed.
"I don't know," he replied, kneeling in front of me. I sniffled, wiping my eyes.
"Did Dad hurt her?" I wondered, not daring to raise my voice above a whisper. "Is he making her sick?"
He stayed silent and stood up, pulling the covers back. I crawled under the covers and let him tuck me in.
"Will you sleep in here tonight?" I whispered.
He nodded, getting under the covers with me. I rested my head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around me.
"Will she be okay?" I intoned, blinking back tears.
He stayed quiet for a long time. I'd started to think he'd fallen asleep already when he finally replied.
"I don't know, Rory."
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Aaron's POV
Our mother had been bedridden for the past week now. No one could understand what was wrong with her, and our father didn't even seem to care.
I tried to talk to her, but she was usually in too much pain to hold a conversation. I wouldn't allow Aurora to see her at the moment.
Speaking of Aurora, she was being extremely difficult. Most of the time, when something bad happened, she stopped talking. But now she wouldn't stop.
She would ask me question after question and I didn't know the answers. And she'd get mad at me for not knowing the answers. But I was just as clueless as she was.
This morning, when I went to wake her up, she immediately asked if our mother was doing better. I'd had to tell her no.
"But she will be, right?" Aurora asked.
"I've told you a million times, Rory, I don't know," I reminded her.
She bit her lip to keep it from trembling, and I could suddenly feel her grief. It was too much. So I sighed and sat down on the bed.
"You get dressed," I told her. "I'll be back in five minutes." She nodded.
I left the room and went to visit my mother. But just as I reached for the doorknob, a hand grabbed my wrist.
"She's resting," Dad told me. "Let her be."
I stared at him with so much anger. I could feel how indifferent he was towards the situation. I could tell that he didn't even care that she was dying.
After five minutes, I went back to Rory's room to find her in a brown dress and some white tights. I sighed, picking her up and placing her on the bed.
I grabbed a hairbrush from her vanity and started brushing her hair. I braided it the way our mother usually did.
"Can I see Mommy?" she asked me. I sighed, shaking my head.
"He won't even let me see her right now," I confessed. She pouted, staring at her lap. "Come on. I'll make you breakfast."
With our mother sick, I'd had to start taking care of her. I had to start taking care of myself, too. Our father definitely wouldn't.
I started scrambling some eggs for the two of us as she sat down at the table. Our father entered the room, and both of us tensed.
"Daddy, what's wrong with her?" Aurora spoke up. I sighed, hoping to God that she would shut up for her own good.
"We're trying to figure that out," he promised her, ruffling her hair. She pulled away from him.
"Will she be okay?" she asked. "Can I see her?"
"Don't nag, Rory," he reminded her, a warning in his voice. She picked up on the cue and shut herself down. "The Ibrahim's are coming to visit tomorrow."
Aurora perked up. While I didn't see the other children as my friends, she always had. And they loved her. Being the youngest, they all collectively spoiled her.
"How long will they stay?" Aurora wondered.
"Three days," he replied.
"Maybe Max and Evie could come and try to fix Mom," Aurora suggested.
I sighed, not wanting to tell her that the only reason they hadn't done that already was likely because of our father. I didn't want to tell her that our father had likely done something to our mother to make her this way.
"Stop it," he cautioned. "You'll only upset yourself, my darling."
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I ran up to my room, careful to shut the door behind me. I went to the bathroom and smiled, seeing the kitten that I had found on the street.
I pulled some chicken out of my pocket that I had leftover from dinner and gave it to her. She ate it and then rubbed up against me.
I had to hide her in the bathroom so my father didn't see her. He wouldn't let me keep her. He hated animals.
The door opened and I gasped, relieved to see it was only my brother. He stared at me for a second, seeming surprised.
"You can't keep that," he said to me.
"Don't tell Dad," I pleaded, standing up. He sighed, crossing his arms.
"I won't, but he is going to find out," he pointed out. "You know that. You can't hide this from him." I felt tears welling up in my eyes as my bottom lip started to tremble. "No, don't cry, Rory. That's not fair."
It was too late. I burst into tears, picking up the kitten and holding it in my arms. I didn't want to let her go.
"It's okay," he promised, kneeling by my side. I looked up at him, my lower lip pouting.
"Don't make me get rid of her," I begged, holding the cat closer. He sighed, thinking about it for a second.
"Fine," he decided. "But you'll wish you had if Dad finds out."
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The next day, I'd gone to the store with Aaron to get out groceries for the week. We'd had to start doing that kind of thing ourselves now that Mom was sick.
When I got home, I ran up to the bathroom to feed my kitten, but she was gone. I felt my heart stop for a second. I looked all over my room.
"Looking for something?"
The words sent dread through my entire body. I turned to my father, eyes wide. He was standing in the doorway.
"What did you do with her?" I questioned, my lower lip trembling.
"Nothing," he promised. "Come with me."
There was a horrible dread building in my stomach, but I followed him out of the room. He brought me to the downstairs bathroom.
I sighed in relief when I saw my kitten completely unharmed. The relief quickly disappeared when I noticed the full bathtub. I turned to him, realizing what it meant.
"No," I whispered, my head shaking as tears sprung in my eyes.
"Do it, Aurora," he instructed. I shook my head harder, the tears falling.
"No," I begged through my sobs. "I'll let her go. I promise."
"The sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can move on," he said to me. "Drown it."
"No," I repeated, more firm this time. He struck me across the face.
"Either you can do it, or I will," he sighed. "But if I have to do it, you will face many more consequences."
My soft cries had turned into messy sobs at that point. I picked up the cat and pressed a kiss to her forehead. I apologized to her and did what I had to do.
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Aaron's POV
Aurora and I sat in the living room that evening after a particularly awful training session. She'd learned to shoot a gun today. She was only nine.
Our father was stressed about something, and had gone up to his office. Probably to drink. So the two of us decided to stay where we were.
"Can we play a game?" Aurora spoke up.
I raised an eyebrow, turning to face her. It was strange to remember she was still a child. While she was learning to shoot guns, and being trained to kill, she was still nine years old.
"What do you want to play?" I wondered, sitting up.
"Hide and seek," she beamed.
I scoffed, not able to help the smile that crept onto my face. I wanted her to still have a bit of her childhood left. So I nodded.
"I'll count first," I decided.
She grinned as I closed my eyes and began counting. I heard her running up the stairs. After I had counted to twenty, I stood up and went up the stairs.
I looked in her bedroom, unable to find her. I didn't dare check our father's office. I knew she wasn't stupid enough to hide in there.
I also knew she would not be in our mother's room. We'd been told to give her space for a bit. And as much as it pained us both, we knew we had no choice.
I stepped into her bedroom, searching around for her. Just as I was about to leave, I heard a loud, piercing scream.
I rushed out of the room, finding our father yanking her out of the hallway closet by her hair.
"What have I told you two about wasting your time with games?" he questioned us.
He had an empty bottle in his hand, which he raised above his head. She shielded herself with her arms as he smashed it over her. She shrieked as the bottle pierced through her arms.
"Take care of this," he said to me before going back to his office.
I sighed, rushing to her side. I picked her up and brought her to the bathroom. I got out a first aid kit and started fixing her up.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Don't apologize," I insisted, ruffling her hair.