31...
I kept fidgeting with my dress. Partially because the white crinoline brushing against my knees was foreign and weird, but also because I wanted to hold Roy's hand like an anxious two-year-old. I knew he was upset. After what he'd just found out, how could he not be?
I was upset.
NO.
More than that.
I was furious.
I knew what my dad had done to Roy. I saw it all. Every bit of it. But what I hadn't been made aware of through Roy's memories were my father's intentions. After all those horrible things my dad had done, at the end of that sad, painful life, Roy was supposed to die. And my dad was the one who was supposed to kill him.
I couldn't believe it. I mean, I knew Marley had told the truth. But how could I believe it? God, I just felt so confused. My own father. I knew he'd been absent in my life, that he'd lied, that he was cruel, that he was heartless. Considering all those things, I supposed I shouldn't have been shocked at all. And maybe I wasn't shocked. Maybe I was...ashamed.
Roy had only met me because my dad brought him home. I was James Whitman's daughter. How could Roy trust me now that he knew the truth about my dad? How could he trust anyone when he just found out that the only father-figure he'd ever had was supposed to kill him?
I couldn't imagine what I would do in his position, or how I'd feel. But I knew what it was like to find out a terrible secret. I knew what it was like to hear something you wish you'd never heard. I understood what it felt like to know something and wish that I didn't know it. Like the night I found out how unhappy my mother truly was.
I knew she'd been depressed for a long time. All the pill bottles lying around the house was enough to tell me what I needed to know without asking. What I hadn't realized was how sad she'd been. Sad enough to lock herself in the bathroom and down a whole bottle of pills.
I had been the one to drive her to the hospital that night. I had been the one to clean the vomit off the back seat the next morning.
When dad came to the hospital it wasn't to check up on my mother, or me. He came to give her the divorce papers that he'd signed the week before. That was the day I realized how soulless my father could be.
Now, two months later, I knew he was an empty, cold-blooded murderer.
Finding out something horrible about one of my parents was not a new experience, but it seemed like no matter how many horrifying secrets I discovered, I still got hurt every time. I should have been numb, but I wasn't.
It wasn't just me that got hurt this time, either. My family's dysfunction was reaching out and damaging other people now too. And I felt completely powerless to stop it from happening.
I closed my eyes, unable to look at Roy. He hadn't said a word since Marley told him the truth. We were all just standing there, waiting for someone else to say something. But none of us had. I don't think anyone knew what to say.
That's when Chris opened the door, Caleb hurrying passed him to grab Marley's legs. "Whoops, sorry honey, I didn't mean to interrupt," Chris said as he glanced at our faces. They must have been disturbingly solemn, because his eyes widened and I saw him gulp. "Phone for you," he said, handing over the handset and bending to retrieve Caleb. The little boy put up a bit of a fight, squealing loudly before finally letting go and allowing Chris to carry him out of the room.
Marley held the phone in both hands, her eyes flitting from my face to Roy's. "I'll be right back. Don't do anything. Just—just wait." She said, padding out of the bedroom and pulling the door shut behind her.
We were alone now, and I knew that I should say something. But all I did was wait.
____________________________________________________
As soon as Marley gave me my answer, I realized the truth.
I was never meant to leave the white room. I had spent my whole life in there, imagining what it was like on the outside. I had looked forward to the day when James would finally let me go. But that day was never supposed to come. He'd made promises over and over, only to break them again and again. In the end, he had only ever hurt me.
And after everything, I understood why.
I must have meant nothing to him. He must have never cared about me at all. I didn't know what I was to him, but I knew I was...less. Less than what it would have been worth for him to follow through on his promises.
In the end, he was supposed to kill me. I knew that now, too.
So...why was I still alive?
If James never cared about me, why had he let me out of that room? Why had he brought me to Lisa? If I meant nothing to him, why hadn't he killed me like he was supposed to? It didn't make any sense. If he was supposed to kill me, then letting me live would have meant breaking the rules.
"James doesn't break the rules." I whispered, shaking my head.
"Roy? Please look at me?" Lisa whimpered softly as I turned toward her. She was trying really hard to hold back her tears, but they were falling down her cheeks anyway.
"Why didn't he kill me?" I breathed, my eyes wide. My whole face felt frozen and expressionless.
"W-what?" Lisa stammered.
Thoughts, thick and heavy, then light and piercing filled my head. I was trying to figure this out—not on my own, but for my own sake. I wanted to know what it meant. I wanted to know why I was still here, why I had been able to leave the white room in the first place.
"He was supposed to kill me..." I repeated, "So...why didn't he do it?"
"He's a bad person, Roy," Lisa's voice trembled. "I'm so sorry he hurt you like this," she crossed her arms over her chest, biting her lip.
No, I wanted to say. That's not it. It's not that simple.
I could feel something changing inside of me. It felt exciting, the wave of realization. Suddenly, I understood it all. And the sadness that had been choking me a moment ago was finally releasing me. I could breathe. Because now I knew why James had let me live.
"Roy?" Lisa sobbed. "Talk to me," she begged.
"Why are you crying?" I asked suddenly, reaching out to wipe a tear from her chin. She turned away from me, and I felt my insides twist with anxiety. "...Lisa?"
"Yell at me Roy. Yell at me. I want you to."
"What—why?" I asked, confused.
"Yell, Roy. Scream. Hit something. Throw something. Be angry, please!" she cried.
I shook my head. "But I'm not angry," I told her.
"How can you not be?" she demanded warily, a strange look in her eyes that I didn't understand. It seemed as though she was mad at me...for not being mad?
"D-do you...?" she covered her mouth, and then let her hand fall. "Are you angry with me?"
I blinked. "Angry with you? Why would I be?"
"James is my father. What if you think I mislead you? What if you think I knew all along? What if he was using me to make you feel safe? What if I'm a terrible person too, and I deserve to lose you?" the words gushed out of her with a dozen salty tears and she gasped for breath, unable to say anything else.
"I'm not angry, because I know why James didn't kill me," I told her, wishing I understood why she thought I blamed her for anything. How could I? After everything she had done for me, how could she think I would be upset with her for things that James had done?
Her brown eyes widened substantially as she stared at me. "What are you talking about? He didn't kill you yet, Roy. He's still going to try—don't you understand that?"
I shook my head. "No, he won't, Lisa."
"You don't know him like I do. I'm his daughter. I know what sort of person he is." She insisted.
"He let me out. He brought me to you. He broke the rules. James doesn't break the rules, Lisa," I said the words very quickly, my excitement growing more with each passing second.
"What are you saying, Roy?" she asked the question in a very small voice.
"He didn't kill me. Because he cares about me."
There. I said it.
My eyes wide with anticipation, I waited for Lisa to say something. When she didn't, I started to get nervous. More nervous than I had been before, when I realized she was crying. I wanted to know what she was thinking, and why she wasn't saying anything.
She turned away from me quickly, and I couldn't even see her face.
"Lisa?" I said her name softly, not wanting to upset her further. She didn't answer.
"After everything...you're still looking for the human in him, aren't you?" she was talking very quietly and I almost couldn't hear what she was saying. "There is nothing he could do to you that would make you hate him, is there?"
"You said I was worth caring for," I whispered. "Do you care about me?"
"Yes," she answered quickly, nodding.
"Then why can't James care about me too?"
When Lisa turned, I saw a deep sadness in her eyes. "He doesn't care about anyone but himself, Roy."
"But he—he broke the rules for me, Lisa," I insisted.
She shook her head. "He did it for himself."
"No," my chin quivered. I clenched my jaw to stop it. "James does care about me, he does," I said, wanting her to believe it as much as I had a moment ago.
"I wish he did," she uttered softly, wrapping her arms around my waist and placing her head against my chest. I looked away from her, at the ceiling, the floor, the walls—anything but her. "He doesn't care about you. Or me. Or anyone." She held me tighter.
"But—why?" the words escaped my throat in a mangled breath as I failed to hold back the waves of emotion piercing my lungs.
I wanted to understand. I wanted to know. Why didn't James care about me? Was it because of all the times I had broken the rules? Was it because I hadn't always responded fast enough to his orders? Was it because he had always hated me? Was there anything that I could have done to make him care, like Lisa did?
"Why do you care about me?" I asked her suddenly.
"You can't compare me to him, Roy," Lisa replied sadly. "We aren't the same. My reasons can't be his. You won't understand it, so don't torture yourself."
"I have to know, Lisa," I choked. "I have to understand."
"I care about you because you're you," she told me. "Everything about you is...is... kindness."
I let myself look at her then, because I wanted her to know that I was listening, and that her words meant so much to me.
"You're innocent and sweet, and you try so hard to be the right kind of person. The person you think he wants you to be. But you can't be that person Roy, because you're already someone else. He can't taint you, no matter what he does. You're stronger than him, in every way. You're so much stronger. You don't need him to care about you, and you don't need to know why he doesn't."
I buried my face in her shoulder then because I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. "Is it my fault? Did I do something wrong?" I cried desperately.
Lisa put her arms around my neck, pulling me closer. "No," I felt her fingers clutch at the fabric of my shirt. "I promise you, it is not your fault. None of this is your fault."
I wanted so badly to believe her. I trusted her completely, but how could she be right about this? How could James want to kill me for no reason? There had to be something else—something I hadn't figured out yet. James had never acted without a reason before.
If he was supposed to kill me, then there was a reason why I was supposed to be dead.
No matter what, I had to know what that reason was.
Pushing away from Lisa, I ran to the door and pulled it open, slipping out of the bedroom and down the hall, into the living room where Chris and Marley were sitting on the sofa. Caleb was playing on the floor in front of them. They all turned to look at me as I entered the room.
"W-why does James want to k-kill me?" I stammered as Lisa came to stand beside me. She hadn't called after me, or tried to stop me from coming out here. With her I was free to do things I had never done before, and I was only now realizing that.
Marley shot out of her seat, her curly hair bouncing as she stepped away from the sofa, toward me. "Let's talk about this in the other room—"
"Answer me, please!" I cried, closing my eyes momentarily as I yelled at her. When I opened them again, she looked shocked.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't yell at my wife," Chris said, rising from the sofa to stand beside Marley.
"He has a good reason," Lisa chimed in, glancing at me and then Chris.
"Oh does he? Who is this friend of yours exactly?" Chris demanded. "And why does he think your father wants to kill him?" he laughed as he spoke, as though he believed the whole thing to be completely ridiculous.
"Because James does want to kill me," I answered. "And I want to know why."
Chris glanced at Marley, who refused to look anywhere but at me.
Don't do this, she mouthed.
"I have to know," I told her very slowly.
"What's going on here?" Chris demanded, his calm demeanor quickly fading. He was starting to get upset. "What is all this?"
"Mama..." Caleb whined. I glanced down at him and tried to smile reassuringly. He looked up at me with big green eyes and started to cry.
I'd never thought about what he would look like, or be like. When Marley told me about him, I felt so guilty for finding out that I had kept myself from thinking about him. But now he was right in front of me, and I didn't have to wonder anymore.
He looked just like Marley, with dark curly hair and her dark skin. She leaned down to pick him up and he started to sniff, burying his face in his mother's shoulder.
I couldn't help wondering what that felt like, to be held by a mother. His, or mine.
But then I closed my eyes and stopped thinking about it. One thing at a time. Right now, I needed to know something else.
"Why does James want to kill me?" I repeated.
"Marley?" Chris was staring at his wife with one raised eyebrow. "What is he talking about?"
Marley kissed Caleb's head and then carefully handed him over to Chris, who still looked upset.
"It's because of the project."
"What project?" Chris asked.
"Mine," she answered, sending him a look.
"You're a pharmacist!" Chris exclaimed. "You don't kill people!"
"We aren't talking about me." she responded quietly.
"But, Dr. Whitman is your boss. You're both pharmacists. At least, that's what you two have been telling me for the past twelve years!" he cried.
"She was lying, Chris. They both were. To everyone." Lisa stated, lifting her chin up a notch.
Marley crossed her arms, a guilty look coloring her expression. "It's not like that. We weren't allowed to tell anyone about what we were doing."
"What—you're serious? You're not a pharmacist?" Chris's voice grew slightly higher-pitched.
"I couldn't tell you." Marley said to him.
"I'm your husband!" he snapped.
"I signed a contract, Christopher. I would have gotten fired from the project."
"What project?" Chris and Lisa asked at the same time.
I glanced between them and then back to Marley. At this point, there were too many people asking too many different questions. I was afraid she wouldn't answer anyone.
"I'll tell you." She said, crossing the room and sinking into one of the chairs that sat in front of the windows. "Just...just give me some time."
"He's waited his whole life for answers, Marley. I think that's long enough," Lisa took my hand in hers and held it tightly. Her voice was so strong. I wanted to smile at her, but I couldn't take my eyes from Marley's face.
"You're right. But I...I just need some time."
"You've had time. A lot of it. I won't wait any longer for you to be honest with me," Chris said, his voice deepening as he got more mad.
"Caleb..." she said, shaking her head. "He doesn't need to know."
Chris nodded slowly. "Alright. I'll take him to his room. But when I come back, you're going to tell me everything." He turned and headed toward the other end of the house. When he was gone, Marley looked up and glared at me.
"Why couldn't you leave it alone?" she demanded.
"You're the only one who can give us answers," Lisa replied for me.
"You could have asked me privately—you didn't have to let everyone know!" she cried. "Do you realize how hard I worked to keep that part of my life from my family?"
"Harder than you worked to help Roy." Lisa answered stiffly. "He needed you. You were the only one on his side, and then you just disappeared. You were going to let James kill him."
"I didn't want him to suffer anymore!" Marley looked at me. "I didn't want to hurt you, sweetheart. But I had no control over what James did. He was the one who decided to isolate you completely. I just wanted to see you become what you were meant to be..." she shook her head sadly. "I only wanted you to reach your full potential. I thought it was worth it...all the horrible things we did. I thought they were worth it. I thought, in the end, we'd be helping everyone."
"What are you talking about?" Chris demanded, returning to the room.
I felt heat rising from inside of me, pouring through my skin like it had earlier. Beads of sweat started to form on my neck and forehead, dampening the stray clumps of hair around my face. I shook my head slightly, trying to get the feeling to go away.
"The whole point of what we did was to help other people. Our project was supposed to cure illness, and eliminate disease altogether. We were trying to make the human body capable of healing itself." Marley explained.
"And you could do that by torturing Roy?" Lisa demanded at my side. I tried to look at her, but everything had started to blur. I kept my eyes on Marley instead, focusing on her as the clarity of my vision came and went.
"We only ever hurt Roy to unlock his potential." She insisted. "He has such amazing abilities. He is capable of doing everything we created him to do. Maybe even more than we thought."
"Then why the hell were you trying to kill him?" Lisa demanded.
I tried to tell her not to be mad, but my tongue felt dry, so I didn't say anything.
"Because the people who employed us decided our results weren't good enough!" she answered. "All the horrific things we did...it was all for nothing, because it wasn't enough. They wanted better results. When we couldn't give them any, they ordered us to end the project."
"But I've seen the things he can do!" Lisa cried, letting go of my hand to take several steps toward Marley. My skin cooled when she released me, but only for a moment. "Can't you tell them that? Can't you get them to let him go?"
"It doesn't work like that. Everything that happened outside of his isolated cell occurred in an uncontrolled environment. We can't take those results and reproduce them in anyone else like we'd planned. He's still worthless to them."
"Well he isn't worthless to me," Lisa snapped, taking my hand again.
My head started to pound, as well as my heartbeat. I felt as though I had been running for a really long time and could no longer get enough air to breathe.
"I thought I was sick," I whispered, blinking slowly to try and clear my vision. It worked momentarily.
"You were never sick, Roy. The only times you've been ill is when we injected you with a virus to test your abilities. You always fought them off. But we didn't know how you did it. None of the readings were strong enough to detect how you were able to heal so quickly." Marley explained, rising from the chair and removing her sweater. "Each time we gave you something stronger, hoping the reaction would show up in your blood samples or anywhere else. All we needed was a reaction big enough to give us an idea of how it worked."
"It?" Lisa repeated. "You mean his powers?"
Marley nodded. "That's exactly what I mean."
"Are you telling me that you conducted experiments on a teenage boy?" Chris demanded.
Marley looked at him and shook her head. "He was a newborn when we brought him back to the facility."
"Oh my god, Marley," Chris's mouth hung open in disbelief. "Where are his parents?"
"He was created from donated genetic material. His biological parents have no idea he exists, nor do they know each other." Marley answered stiffly.
"So, you grew him in a petri dish like a germ?" Chris shook his head. "What are you trying to pull here, Marley?" he snapped.
"His host signed a contract, Chris." Marley replied.
"H-host?" I said, feeling increasingly dizzy as the conversation went on.
"That's what we called the...well...mothers, I guess." Marley chewed the inside of her cheek. "Yours didn't want to give you up," she said.
"You know who she is?" Lisa asked hurriedly, squeezing my hand.
Marley hesitated.
I started to feel sick.
"Who is she?" Lisa demanded.
"I can't tell you that."
"I don't understand," I breathed, shaking my head. "I-I'm not supposed to do those things. I-I'm supposed to be normal,"
"I know you're confused. It might be too much for you to get right now. I think we should take a break. You both look exhausted." Marley pressed her hands together, glancing at Lisa.
"But my...my mother...she...wanted me?" I clung to her words, wishing I could fully understand what they meant. But it wasn't just my vision that was cloudy now, it was my head too. I couldn't think.
"Roy?" Lisa turned me towards her, and I stumbled forward, catching myself on the table in the middle of the room. "Roy!"
"What's going on? What's wrong with him?" I heard Chris asking.
"Roy, tell me what's the matter," Lisa urged as she tried to help me up. I fell to my hands and knees instead, my stomach twisting into painful knots. "What did you do to him, Marley?" she shouted as I groaned and tried not to vomit.
"It's the stress. He can't handle it. I told you he needed a break."
"You gave him something while I was in the shower, didn't you?"
"No! Of course not! I told you, it's just too much information for him to deal with all at once." It sounded like Marley, but the voices in the room were starting to become garbled masses of sound, and I couldn't always identify who was speaking.
"If you're lying....I'll...you...mark...words..."
"...didn't...anything...swear..."
I slowly tilted my head back to look at Lisa's face as she held me in her arms. She was so mad. I'd never seen her this angry before. I wanted her to stop. I didn't want her to be upset. But my tongue felt too heavy, and so did my eyelids.
I tried to listen for her voice, but it was impossible to hear her over the sound of my ears ringing. Twisting, I reached for her but fell onto my back instead, what little bit of air left in my lungs rushing out. That's when I let go, and stopped fighting whatever was happening to me. Slowly, the ringing stopped, and there was only silence.