The Experiment by Cassidy Shay (i can read with my eyes shut .txt) đ
- Author: Cassidy Shay
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I try to grasp his hand, but heâs dissolving before my eyes. âCollin, please donât go. Donât leave me alone.â But he leaves anyway. I turn to Mathew and sob into his chest.
In the morning, Mathew brushes my hair out of my face. âMeagan, youâll never be alone, not as long as Iâm here.â I just snuggle closer to him. âI love you.â
âI love you too.â Iâm sorry for hurting you all the time.â Belle joins the hug, and I canât help but smile. âYou guys are my world, you know that? Thereâs nothing I wouldnât do for you guys.â
I drift back to sleep, and wake up to the sound of someone knocking on the door. I slowly slip out of bed and go to see whoâs at the door. When I see the people out in the hall, all my energy is drained from my body.
âWhat do you want?â I ask the group of Vipero.
âWe need your Memories. Follow us, please,â says the short one in the front. I donât know what else to do, so I obey.
They lead me to one of the doctorâs rooms, but itâs been changed. Instead of the bed and medical tools and machines that usually inhabit these rooms, there is a single chair, with a single desk. On the desk, I see a lamp, a paper, and a pencil.
âWe need to know what the governments did to fight back against the rebels. How were they destroyed? How were they crushed into submission? Draw the Memories and tell us how to win this war.â He pushes me inside and locks the door. Itâs dark, so I feel my way to the desk, turn on the lamp.
I sit in the chair and think. How do they know that I know about the revolution?
I look at the paper. There are three pieces. Three Memories. Three ways that they will manage to keep us as prisoners in this building, keep the citizens outside under their control. I canât give them that.
But I sit down anyway, close my eyes, put the pencil to my paper and begin. Ad I finish one, I move on to another, on another sheet of paper.
When Iâm done, I looks at my drawings and smile. I flip the sheets over and write on the back. The first drawing is of the Boston Tea Party. I write:
Tired of the ridiculous laws and regulations of Great Britain, colonists snuck onto a ship and dumped an entire cargo of tea into the harbor. The authorities were unable to stop, or even identify, the patriots.
The next picture is of men signing an important document.
The Declaration of Independence. The colonists decided that they werenât going to put up with the English running their country. So they declared independence.
The third drawing is a little more complicated. Itâs of a battle. Guns and cannons, explosions and fires. But in the center, still flying, is the American flag. On the back of the page, it says:
In the midst of all the destruction, the flag of the patriots still stood as a reminder of what they were after. The flag was a symbol of strength, of freedom. This exact flag may never fly again. But there will be a new symbol of strength and of freedom that will appear throughout the streets and cities once again someday soon.
At the bottom of the page, I write, ââGive me liberty, or give me death!â âPatrick Henry.â
I stand up, turn the lamp off, and find the red dot on the wall. When I hear the door unlock, I walk out and go back to my family.
Around dinner time, the Vipero pay me another visit. âThe Warden would like to see you,â says the small one, the same one who had spoken earlier. He was small in build, but it was obvious that he was in charge, that he knew exactly what he was doing, and that he didnât care that he terrorized people for a living.
I told Mathew that Iâd be back in a bit, then shut the door before he could ask me any questions about where I was going. I followed the Vipero down the elevator and through the white hallways beneath Floor One until we found ourselves in front of the Wardenâs door.
Heâs a new warden. He only started a couple weeks ago. The Vipero leave me, and I knock on the door. The Warden answers and invites me inside. Thereâs a huge screen on the wall to my left, and I study the man whose face appears on it.
His hair is very short, his uniform crisp, clean, and decorated with many pins and medals. His eyes are brown, his lips thin and pale. A scar runs down the center of his forehead onto his nose and all the way to his chin. Another scar stretches across his face laterally, from one ear to the other. It looks as if someone tried to cut his face open. Even as mangled as it is, his face seems familiar.
âWhat happened to your face?â I blurt, then cover my mouth with my hands. I hadnât meant to be so rude, but I couldnât help it.
He just laughs. âThat is another story, for another time, young lady. For now, I would appreciate it if you didnât make comments about it. Right now, I want you know what you were trying to pull with those drawings earlier.â He nods to the Warden, who waves the drawings in my face.
âI was told to draw how the governments contained the revolutions. Well, they couldnât. You see, if someone is willing to die for a certain cause, their will to win is stronger than that of the opposing force. When youâre willing to die for a cause, you canât be beaten. Because even by killing them, you are giving them freedom.â
âYou think youâre real smart, donât you, girl?â he snarls at me. âJust where do you get this information?â
I snort, trying to hold back laughter. âIsnât it obvious? Iâve got thousands of years of history that no one ever told you. You only have the history of the New World.â I snort again. âThat wonât give you any wisdom, or let you know how the world works. All that will do is make you think that this New World is the only way of life. I pity you. You and everyone else without the Memories. Youâre perfectly happy living as slaves to a dictator, just because you know nothing else.â
He laughs at me. âMe? A slave? You know nothing, girl. My master, the Great Dictator, and I are very close friends.â
This time, I donât make an effort to hide my laughter. âReally? Because my husband and I are close, and I donât call him Great Husband. I call him Mathew. I donât call Belle Great Daughter. I call her Belle. I call Julie Julie, and Aron is Aron. Macy was called Macy, and Jack wasnât ever called anything but Jack. These are the people that Iâm close to, and I call them by their names.â I shake my head at him.
âAnd âmy master?ââ I turn to the Warden. âCan you believe him?â I pause. âNevermind. Youâre just like him. You know who calls people âmasterâ? Dogs and slaves. Slaves that are afraid to stand up for themselves. Slaves that are forced to do what their master tells them to. And stupid slaves who are blind to what really goes on. Slaves who are stupid enough to think that their master will make an exception when he destroys everything.
âThe âGreat Dictatorââ I continue, putting air quotes around âGreat Dictator,â âwill destroy everything in order to keep his position of power. Heâll destroy anything that poses as a remote threat. He will destroy the both of you, and your homes and your families and all youâve ever known. The only reason that he might consider sparing you is that youâre too stupid to see that all of this is going on.â I laugh a cruel laugh. âYouâre pathetic. I hope he destroys everyone whoâs ever been close to you.â I spit at the spot where his feet would be if he were actually here, and then I turn and leave the room.
To my surprise, no one follows me. No alarms sound, no red lights flash, and no one comes to arrest me. It makes me nervous, because I know that they wonât let me get away with that. No way, Jose.
Iâm in big trouble, so why arenât they doing anything?
I get back to the room without being stopped by anyone. âI donât like this,â I say once Iâm in the door. âMathew, somethingâs not right.â
He looks up from his dinner. âCome eat, and then you can explain to me what happened. But youâre foodâs getting cold.â I hadnât expected that reaction. After disappearing without an explanation, and coming back talking in vague terms about things going downhill, I expected him to be more⊠out of control, maybe. But heâs oddly calm. I sit down to eat my grilled cheese, and Belle and Mathew both study my movements until I swallow my last bite. âOkay,â he says. âNow what happened?â
I tell him about the drawings, and about the conversation I had with the man on the screen. I described him, and then I told Mathew, âI donât know who he is, but I know that heâs pretty important to the government. Why else would he have all those medals, or think that the dictator is his close friend?â I throw my hands in the air. âI spit at him! Why havenât they arrested me yet?â
Mathew laughs. âCalm down. Heâs had things much worse that spit hurled at him. From your description, I think I know who he is. Heâs in charge of the armed forces. The Vipero. His parents were scientists, and they experimented on him when he was a kid. Thatâs what the scars are from. Heâs got others all over his body, but his uniform covers them. Finally, one day he decided that heâd had enough of them ripping him apart. He killed both of his parents using the scalpels and other tools that they used
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