This is my first attempt at fanfiction, and I'm not too good with writing stories. And I'm sorry in advance if I get any information wrong. I tried to research as much as I could about A.B.A. I have added a few things to her story, but the basis is still the same. I just wanted to give her a full story.
Please enjoy!
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Blood Stained Bandages
No, it seemed sitting there shivering wasn't getting her anywhere. She would eventually die if she stayed there in that cold, dark lab. Regardless of the seemingly endless supply of blood for her transfusions, it had to end somewhere, sometime.
Besides, isolation breeds insanity. It wasn't something she knew instinctively, but she did start to feel it. The walls, once so shiny, were getting dull and possessed by the fear, the anger, the sadness someone from before her had felt, though she had no idea the words to describe these feelings. Her creator, a "father" of sorts, was gone. Ten years later, she hadn't forgotten. Even though she wasn't even awake physically when it had happened, she felt it, and it chewed her up from the inside.
But she didn't cry. She didn't know how. Emotions were unknown to her. It is, after all, something said to make us truly human.
But she's not human….
Barely anyone would approach her. Pink fleshed creatures with white drapes surrounding them. They gave her food (which she wouldn't touch) and poked her with sharp things (needles) all while she'd cower in the corner, afraid of the latter. Sometimes they'd talk to her. They'd say things like "Eat up!" or "What's wrong with you?" Then they disappeared. Behind that door. The door of freedom. From her blank, sunken eyes, she saw as the white robed creatures came and went. She didn't have that luxury.
But sitting there, clutching her knees to her chest wouldn't stop the strange sensations from engulfing her. Unfortunately, she had never been anywhere else. This was the only life she had ever known. The sun in her mind was nothing more than alone lightbulb that swung above her when the door closed. She only language she understood was the silent clank of her bed hitting the walls as metal faught metal for space while the camera above her whirred, watching her every move, no matter how trivial. The only colors she recognized were white from her bandages, gray from the steel walls that confined her, and red from the blood she desperately needed but at the same time couldn't use. What kind of a man would create such a monster?
A genius. Yeah, that's what they called him.
Still, she had to leave. To find someone like her. To find a reason for this existance. To live. She stood up, clutching the hospital bed beside her. She winced at the sharp pains that attacked at her. Her wounds, which had never quite closed up from the constant surgery she underwent, seemed to grow even larger. The old blood stains turned vivid. Even her body wanted her to stay. No, not even her body could tell her mind what to do.
Today, A.B.A is going away.
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Walking through that door was a lot easier than she thought it was. All she had to do was kill that pink colored creature. The metal bar at the foot of her bed came off so easily. He walked in. He said something.
"I don't know why we keep making you anything. You never eat."
Then she hit him. Twice. Three times. With strength you can't find normally. Then the metal pipe fell from her hands. A resounding bang echoed the halls. She could now see the halls. It was no longer a dark void that no one had bothered to fill. It was now something she saw, something she could know for herself. Like a deer in headlights she stood there taking in the sights and sounds—the sights of bright lights, and the sounds of alarms blaring. But the alarms had to urgency to them. Not one she noticed. To her, this was probably something the pink ones heard all the time. Excitement overcame her. She was free.
She couldn't just run out like she wanted to. Using the walls as her crutch (it never passed her mind to use the metal pipe), she followed the corridors in no particular direction. Even the simple walls fascinated her. Her walls were a dingy silver while these where a sterile white. Hers were rough from rust, while these were smooth and untainted by anything, even dents. The outside would was vibrant and full of life.
She was dying.
Which way was out? She didn't care. To her, this was the world she had sought out for so long. Her pulse raced. Her breath quickened. And everyone ran. Towards her.
They all spoke at once. It all sounded like some strange language she had never been taught. They surrounded her.
She kept walking.
Somebody grabbed her. The others took this as the example and followed. She looked around, bewildered. Was this what the outside world was like?
She kept walking.
It was when someone fired at her with a gun that everyone stopped. For a moment, the world went in slow motion. But not A.B.A. She was never a part of the world until now. They hurt. Even to her, this wasn't right. Something clicked in her mind. The key lodged in her head turned. Just slightly. It was when this happened that the pink ones knew the consequences of playing God. Some sort of light engulfed her. It was only for a second, but that was all she needed.
It was on the news, you know. In that little asylum in Fresco, about 14 people died. And one madwoman escaped.
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Mizuchi: One of these days, I'm going to have to not write so disjointedly…. Well, what did you think? It's been a while since I've written any narratives. Please R&R, okay? Thanks!