Common Experiment #84
Mekiko, story by ViperfaceHer StoryThe lines in her skin have been there for as long as she can remember. Deep dents, pressed in red from all the times she's fallen asleep and woken up in… here. Here was a cage, here was a laboratory, here was somewhere she didn't know and where she didn't belong. Here was all she knew. But here is not home. Home. Even the word is bittersweet in her mind.
Sometimes, if she closes her eyes, she can hear laughter, feel the warmth of the sun, see a sky blue wall dotted with stencil butterflies of various colors…
Sometimes, she can hear screams of children's voices, hear them crying from somewhere close by, feel rough burlap on her face, see the cold smile on a strange doctor's face.
Those sometimes don't come as often now, but she's not sure if that is good or not. After all, they are memories of something beyond this place.
They call her laboratory name so sweetly, like a lullaby to lure her out from the back where she tries to hide. "One-one-zero-eight-zero-six?" The numbers identify when she was caught: the 11th month (November), the day (the 8th), and the number of 'catch' she was of the day (6).
"Rose," she corrects like she's done for years, but her voice has grown quieter with age and ache and tears.
They never listen anyways, though sometimes they seem to be on the brink of saying that frayed old name. Whether she wants to leave her metal cage or not, they'll take her, hoisted up by the arms.
Dragged, carried, or otherwise. From one room to the next, she's given up trying to memorize it all, and she's never brought to the same room twice.She knows what to expect now, after 12 years here. A needle, an IV, sometimes more than one. Pain, searing pain, like fire brimming through her veins, why won't it stop? Sweet relief will sail through her after what feels like hours of agony - whatever they put in her to calm the screaming in her body is strong. Different results - it makes her want to laugh like she's insane. Then she'll feel bloated, like she never wants to eat again. It scares her the most when she can't remember what she is; a boy, a girl, an animal, a person, something else entirely? Her racing mind is distracted by the scratching of pencil on paper, they record her reactions as if she was nothing more than a mildly interesting piece of art. Barely worth the attention paid to her. Finally, they cart Rose back to her 'home', let her sink into the metal bars, shut her in for another long, lonely night.
It's a little better inside the cage now. Now, Rose has hope. It's a low light, something that barely qualifies as hope, but its there, a spark in her chest that won't let her quit. There's so much more out there, like the people that gave her the beloved stuffed cat she calls Mischief, the only other name she can remember besides her own. Mischief is warm and soft, its black calico patchwork patterned fabric utterly ragged but well loved, even after all these years. If she could love such a thing so much, couldn't the Someone whose name she does not remember that gave it to her love Rose just as much? It only makes sense.
The toy looks up at her from where it's cradled in her arms, the sewn on smile grinning and the button eyes shining in the soft glow from the security light in the middle of the room. It's her companion, her only friend in this nightmare; she's had it since she came here when she was kidnapped as a young girl. Even now at 18, the toy gives her comfort as if it could return the love she has for it. Mischief appears to be homemade, as if Someone had made it just for her. Someone. If only she knew Someone's name, or at least what Rose had called them.
She's begun to plan. Crude maps, locations, staff roster, all in her dull mind, ready to be used. Ready to help her leave. It's a dangerous little scheme, made even worse by her goals - not just freedom for herself, who would want only that? No, she wants freedom for everyone else, and destruction. Rose longs to see this place burn to the ground, destroyed for all the destruction and torture it's caused.
She's going to get out. Freedom lies just behind a door; she can see it from her cage. It won't be much longer now. She's going to escape to the fantasy place she's dreamed of. Escape...to Neverland.
Artwork
HA sketch by User not found: musouka
