I had an acceptable childhood. Calm, easy. Everything always seemed normal. My parents seemed to like each other well enough to stay together and take care of us, but I wouldn't call it love. Anyone who looked at us would stop and think 'Wow. That family seems perfect. Wish mine was like that.' But, the thing is we weren't. All of our problems were just bubbling under the surface of our skins. If we got angry we would push it down inside, and hide it, until it eventually just went away. Things wouldn't be that way forever, though. I was the catalyst. I would cause the destruction of my family. Literally. Things would blow up and they would be too big to push down. It happened September 8th, 1996.
I was probably fourteen at the time. I was walking home from school. I lived in New York my whole life. I knew all the back alleys and streets to take short cuts. I was supposed to be home for my little sister's birthday, but I would never make it home that day.
I noticed a black van starting to trail me after I took one of the more frequently used alleys. I would walk faster and the van would drive faster. Eventually, I was running down twists and turns with multiple black vans and cars after me. I had stopped near some hobos around a fire when I felt a sharp pain hit my shoulder. I groggily looked behind my shoulder and saw a tranquilizer of some sort. At least that's what I hoped it was.
Someone had slapped me. Hard. I opened my eyes. I could make out some tools on a metal, moving cart. The only light source was a single, austere bulb. The person that had slapped me was almost directly in front of me, smirking.
"Test subject has stabilized procedures and is currently regaining consciousness," he said into a recorder. He pressed a button and continued, " Hello, my dear. How are you feeling? Tense, it seems. Let's loosen those straps a bit," he said motioning to the binds around my wrists and ankles.
Living in New York, my parents had forced me to take basic combat classes by the age of eight. I fell in love with fighting after a year or so, so I continued until last year. The program lost too many members. My parents weren't exactly rich, but we could afford the things we needed and a few wants, like my piano.
I had trained exactly for this, so as soon as the man had unbound me I rammed my knee straight into his crotch and punched him in the gut to temporarily wind him and get away. Just as my fingers brisked the door, I felt a painful pull on my hair.
"What pretty hair. Mmm… Lavender," he said inhaling the scent of my shampoo. 'What a creep!' I thought. I squirmed around until he hit me again. I was caught off guard by this act, I wanted to be angry, but I was more scared than angry. None of my fighting instincts were coming to me. I stopped moving and he put me on the floor.
"I thought that if I unbound you, you would cooperate better. Now I see that you are going to be trickier. You're already on thin ice. Behave," he said through gritted teeth. He promptly left, slamming the door.
I was left alone in the room and only then did I notice that the walls of my room were made of glass. No, not glass, probably something stronger. I decided there was no use of finding an escape route at the moment. There were more likely guards and other guys like the one that hit me outside. For now, I would sleep, but not before shedding a few tears.
I snapped my eyes open just in time to see the door open and the same man from yesterday walk in.
"Alright, Ophelia, we're going to start your tests soon. I am going to ask you a few questions and you're going to answer like a good girl. Let's get started," he paused and took a sheet of paper off his clipboard. "Question one: How old are you?"
I didn't want to talk to him. I refused to speak, so I stayed quiet. A new day had given me new confidence.
Except that when I didn't answer, he hit me. Again.
"O-okay, I-I'm four-fourteen,"I said in between sobs.
"Calm down, these are easy questions. Most of these things we already know from your medical forms," So, they had stolen my medical files. They knew everything about me. "But, there is one thing on your paperwork that is confusing. It says here," He said pointing to the sheet on his clipboard, "that you have never gone into the doctor's office except for a mere check-up. Why is that little miss?"
"I-I don't know. I've just never gotten sick before," I said shivering in fear.
"Mmm, interesting. It's also interesting that your blood is o positive. You can't give blood to anyone, but you can get blood from everyone. It's getting late. We'll begin your testing in the morning. Goodnight," He said closing and locking the door on his way out.
Was it late? But, I didn't think I'd been here a whole day… How long did I sleep? Oh well. I began observing my surroundings more closely. From what I could see, there was a bed, a toilet, and a sink. All were barely clean. Rust hung off the pipes and dust caked the appliances. Something told me that this room must not have been used for a long time.
I looked through the glass, seeing nothing, but concrete walls and floors, with a hallway too dark to see any farther than a few feet down. I also saw a guard clad in soldier gear not too far from my glass encumberment. I tried waving, but he only looked over and nodded to me. I frowned.
Suddenly, I had to go to the bathroom. "Excuse me? Hello? C-can you turn around, please?" I asked trying to not cause trouble for myself again. He reluctantly turned around and covered his eyes with his large palm. I used the toilet hurriedly.
The next morning I awoke to a tapping on the glass cage. Near the door, a man I didn't recognize slid food through a small opening in the door, but quickly closed it and walked away. I went over to the food and smelled it. It was disgusting mush. It had the coloring of puke and some kind of granola chunks in it. (At least I hoped it was granola.) I decided not to eat it until that man came back.
It was maybe forty-five minutes later when the man came back. "Hello, how are you this morning?" I nodded signifying I was fine. "Alright, we'll get star-, wait," he cut off, looking at my puke colored slop. "Is that really what they're making you? I'll have to have a little chat with them. Lucky for you I brought a donut with me. You'll want to eat something before we begin testing you,"
I chomped away at the donut while he wheeled in carts of tools and beakers. Soon enough I was strapped to a chair, but willingly. I had come to the conclusion that as long as I behaved, I would be spared from any punishments and the sooner I might be released. If they were planning on releasing me.
"Alright, if you experience any pain, try raising your right hand, if you don't feel anything, raise your left hand. Alright, ready Ophelia?" I nodded again. He came over towards me and told me to stick my arm out. He quickly injected me with a needle and a mysterious bright green liquid. It stung for a second, but I raised my left hand. Soon after that, he wiped my arm with a cloth and stuck the needle in again. This time a darker green liquid. I raised my left hand again. Again, I was injected, but with a clear, translucent liquid.
Finally, he asked, " Are you alright? Can you walk?" He unbound me from my chair and I got up normally and walked from one side of the room to the other without tripping or stumbling. I looked at the man. There was pure amazement on his face. "Amazing, do you know what I injected in you?" I shook my head no. "I gave you three different poisons that should have killed you slowly and painfully. I need to take some of your blood and examine its reaction to the poisons," He said taking another needle out and taking my blood.
I was amazed too after what he told me. I had been injected with poisons, yet stood and walked around like I was invincible.
A few hours later, he came back in with a twinkie and reported to me that my blood has almost a nucleic acid that attacks the poisons and negates them. "Then they dissolve and just become apart of your blood," he said excitedly.
"Will I get to go home soon?" I asked hoping.
"Maybe, if get all these tests done. I also noticed something in your blood. It seems passive-aggressive. When the blood attacks it becomes aggressive and then returns back to normal. If we were to enhance its reaction, then maybe we could get you to control it with your emotions," With that he was out the door, but popped his head back in and said his name was Lyle.