The facility is cold, lonely, terrifying, but bright; not what one would expect in a building filled with utter terror. The building is almost always white; white walls, floors, and ceilings. The lights are florescent in every room, and there are no windows showing the outside world. People labeled as doctors come inspect you twice a day, make sure you have not yet "Awoken". That's what they call it, when your X-Gene mutates and you develop your gift. They say mine is still dormant, that I haven't developed, but still I must stay here.
We are allowed to move freely throughout the holding area of the facility. We are allowed to visit the other "patients", go to the cafeteria when we want, and visit the internal courtyard. They say by feedings us and allowing us to form friendships makes all of this humane. Caging children, taking us from our families, and killing those who Awaken is labeled as HUMANE because we can walk around?
I leave my bed shortly after my morning check-up, labeled as still dormant, and examine myself in the mirror. My black hair is cropped short, as are all the boys in the facility, and the longer parts stick out awkwardly out from my head. This mixed with my boyish face and still underdeveloped frame and I look prepared for my first day of school; I do not look like someone to be held in captivity. Opening the door of my room, I step down the hallway and enter the common room. A sparse room filled with just couches and chairs, but it is the room we can call ours. There are no guards in the common room, just two cameras to make sure we do nothing reckless, and while we know we are still being watched, we get to be ourselves.
"Hey Phillip, nice hair", a voice from the couch calls, "guess you are still dormant too." Clarice's blonde hair pops up, her smile as permanent as always.
"Yep, still normal" I sigh sardonically, flopping on the couch. "Looks like another day here in paradise." I turn my head as I hear the door opening, "Hey there Alex, Katherine, both still not dead I see."
Katherine sits in the couch next to me gracefully, the girl successfully manages to do everything gracefully, "Yep, still alive. Which is sad, because then we still have to see you."
"Not only do we have to see you, but we have to listen to you, which is a major bummer." Alex laughs, sitting in the chair next to us. He doesn't really sit anywhere I suppose, more lays, his gangly limbs outstretched in every direction. "So dude, what are we doing today?" He asks, pushing his too long of hair out of his eyes.
"I was thinking we could go to the mall," Clarice sarcastically mumbles, "or, you know, be imprisoned. Which ever." In any other situation, a girl who looks like Clarice would typically want to go to the mall. Perfect blonde hair, petite frame, the typical girl that anyone would wish to be their girlfriend. She stands up and stretches, "Any one know where Paige is?"
Katherine nods, "Her skin is super sensitive again. So she isn't leaving her bed. Which would be more of a bummer if she wasn't a bitch."
"Hey now, she is here, with us. Be supportive." I chastise her, "besides, she has been here the longest. For all we know she is going to be taken away soon." I look at my feet, realizing the gravity of my words. Unable to contain my worry I stand, "You guys, I know I've been here the shortest time, but I cannot just sit here and wait. I was taken by HAME in my parents living room, they know I'm here, and yet they don't come. There must be a way they hide this place, but there also must be a way out." I look at each of them expecting answers.
"If you are expecting a solution you can just stop now," Alison says, shutting the door of the lounge behind her. "The Humans Against Mutant Equality Project has existed for ten years, and was being prepared for years before that. I promise you that if they don't want us found, we won't be." Squarely in my face now, her typically hard features even stronger, "Don't fill everyone with hope. We've all been here for years; don't make things worse for us. Just shut up. Please."
"Sorry," I sit back down, feeling defeated.
I know I am the youngest person in the room, but I can't help but feel older than them. HAME has placed us in a facility where they plan to euthanize us like animals and they are unwilling to fight against it. There must be a way to get out of this facility; I've heard of groups of mutants who try to save kids like us. I look around the room, tuning back into their conversations about boredom and the books they've read, and decide mentioning guerilla warfare groups isn't the next step.
"So, I'm thinking someone should go like, check on Paige? She still hasn't left her room I think." Alex says, breaking me out of my thoughts.
"I'll go" I stand up, "Gives me something to do." I head for the door.
"Hey, I wanna come too!" Katherine says behind me, "You aren't the only one who gets bored you know." She opens the door and I follow her down the hall.
"So, do you really think Paige might be taken soon?" Her words almost inaudible in an effort to make sure the guards don't hear.
"It wouldn't surprise me, she has been sick a lot recently. Maybe they are just waiting for her gift to manifest. Maybe her X-Gene is already active and they are just waiting to see what she does." I reply
"What? You think they want to see if she can be useful? She told me when I got here that she has never seen someone leave the program alive." Katherine looked down, clearly wishing the conversation was over.
We enter Paige's room and I look around. Paige is sitting up in the bed, her skin raw and red, her piercing blue eyes bulging from her head like a toad, her brown hair clumped and matted. In the room with her are three guards, one holding a sharp, small knife, all dressed in typical guard uniforms of black, fully armored suits. Dr. Morte, the head doctor,standing at the foot of her bed. Morte, a middle-age, balding, fat man with a God Complex, appears for the first time since I entered the facility baffled by what he is seeing. Looking at Paige, I don't see anything medically profound, we've all seen her before like this. Katherine and I step further into the room, no one seems to be noticing us, not a single head has turned. I notice the room smells like blood and a smell that vaguely reminds me of barbecued meat.
"Children," Dr. Morte whispers, his eyes not leaving Paige, "I must ask you to leave the room."
"We just -" I begin.
"Please let them stay." I can barely place the hoarse voice. Paige's eyes move toward us, her head remaining forward. The look on her face tells the room that speaking, even shortly, caused her extreme pain.
"I am just trying to keep you safe my dear," Morte replies in the voice of a purring cat. "If you are truly sick, outside bacteria from your... friends... could make things worse."
"Please, sir, we are just worried about her" Katherine barely mumbles. No one in the room moves as if her voice didn't travel to their ears.
"Katherine, Phillip, you can stay." Paige sits straight up, "They think they know what is best; I need my friends here with me. You guys make me feel better." She motions for us to move towards her bed. I watch as she massages her wrist, as if waving caused excruciating pain. I nod shortly to Katherine and we begin to move forward. The guards, once so still I forgot they were in the room, hastily block our path.
Katherine lets out a small gasp; the guards, while always present, never actually interact in our lives. They typically seem like a harmless reminder of the submissive position we are in. We halt immediately and stare at them in shock.
"Let them be with me," Paige's voice cutting the silence, "You plan on killing me soon any way." Dr. Morte, his facial expression reading as 'wounded' speaks next, "no my dear, that is not the plan." Morte seems bothered by her accusation; do the members of HAME believe we don't know why we are here?
He moves towards us, the guard with a knife moving to follow. "If you would like I will update them." He reads our expressions, turns, and speaks directly to the guards "your assistance in speaking to children is not necessary." The guards turn, in silence, and return to their original post on the other side of the room. "Follow me."
We step into the hallway with Morte, I don't expect anything good to come out of this man. My first memories of him are of peering at him through the peephole at my house. Him knocking on the door, attempting to not appear to be a part of a kidnapping legal organization. I remember seeing his bone chilling smile as I opened the door, the guards placed right out of sight ready to pounce, as he asked me my name. My confusion, when I opened the door, to discover my life was as good as over. I remember his gloved hand injecting my neck with a sedative, his guards throwing me in their mobile transport, and I remember his face peering over me like a zoo animal when I awoke. Needless to say, as I stepped into the hallway with this man, I expect nothing but trouble.
"Your friend, she is sick, I am not lying." He is speaking quite loudly, almost challenging the very air to question him. "We are doing what we can to keep her well, and this includes not allowing you in the room."
"But sir-"
"Allow me to finish," he interrupts Katherine before she can finish. "If you would like, you can come by every hour and check in on her. I will post a guard outside who will have detailed update for you." This stops both Katherine and I. Never before have we been given information from HAME. "If that is agreeable I hope to see one of you outside Paige's room in one hour." Morte turns back into the room.
Realizing the conversation is over, Katherine and I turn away from the room. My head is spinning with dozens of questions after that exchange; I can't focus on just one topic.
"We're coming back right?" Katherine finally speaks, as we near the common area, "I will go back, I mean, if no one else wants to." I stop walking right outside the lounge door and stare at Katherine. With her childlike face, lean muscular body, and her brown hair hung in a loose ponytail; I've never really thought of her as more than a cute girl in unfortunate circumstance. But, she is willing to trust the doctor, perhaps she is more than cute, perhaps she is brave. "Phil, are you going back?"
"What?" My head is some place other than her speaking, "oh, of course. I will go back." I smile at her.
We step into the lounge, most of our friends in the same spots we left them. Clarice turns towards us, a lot of concern on her face. I smile at her as Katherine sits back down. "Dude! What's the news?" Alex smiles at the both of us, no ounce of him appears to be even a little nervous.
"Well, we went go see her," I begin looking around the entire room "and she doesn't look any different than the last time she was sick. But she has all these armed guards, and Dr. Morte is -" I stop as the door opens. Dr. Morte walks in the room looking stressed.
"You will not want to ignore my next set of words." He speaks with pure urgency, "You all must go back to your rooms now. No questions." He then exits the room and in his place enters five armed guards.
"I guess this means we will talk later?" Clarice says, smiling at the rest of us. "Fuck," Alex mumbles on his way out the door.
"What in the world is happening? Is this a joke?" Alison throws down the pillow she had been using.
What everyone but Katherine and I don't know, is this announcement means we don't get updates on Paige.
As we are walking out of the room, I realize that Alison has to walk passed Paige's room to get to hers. Before I can help myself I stop to shout at her, "Alison! Look to see if you can see Paige!" I watch her glance in the room, a look of horror appears on her face, "She isn't in there!"
Her voice echos down the hall, like the toll of a clock striking twelve. What does she mean Paige isn't there? She may not have looked sick enough to need all the attention she had, but she was too sick to leave her bed. Where is she? Did Morte kill her and putting us in our rooms is the only way to keep us silent?
I step into my room, the guard closing the door behind me, and I immediately try to figure a way out. I glance about the room, my brain working at speeds I hadn't felt before. I move about the room, looking at the room like I'd never seen it before, and begin tearing things in the room apart. I grab everything metallic and set it on the bed. Before I know what I'm doing, grabbing things, turning things, tearing apart things that I can, and just staring. I see absolutely nothing I can use to escape the room, so I quickly return things to how they were and I lay on the bed.
What feels like an eternity passes as I lay on the bed, thinking of different ways I may potentially leave my room. I'm staring at the ceiling when I hear my door open again. Dr. Morte steps into my room alone, closing the door quickly behind him. I look at the man, who seems confused and upset, and I quickly sit up.
"Where is she?" I ask. Knowing full well who I am speaking of the doctor seems uncomfortable; he shifts from foot to foot and eventually sits down on the edge of my bed.
"Your friend, Paige, is back in her bed. She was in the medical bay, we thought she had Awoken, but upon further study I realized I was mistaken." He pauses, to clear his throat, "We did our best to return her to her room as healthily as possible, but as I said before her rapid decay will be only made worse by introducing outside bacteria. We believe she has some form of unique immune deficiency disease; needless to say none of you may leave your rooms until further notice." He then stands up and glances about my room. "I will come to you with any further news," he turns to the door, "I'd recommend no escape attempts. The guards might think you have Awoken and I may not have the sense to tell them otherwise." Morte closes the door behind him.
I sit in my room in silence, processing the information that has been given to me. They thought Paige had Awoken, but somehow were wrong? How could they have possibly been wrong about something like that? When a mutant Awakens, it means their X-Gene has mutated to the point that some extraordinary gift has emerged. This is the only time where, legally speaking, HAME may kill a mutant. The process of the X-Gene Awakening is not something I thought you could mistake for anything else.
Days pass, I'm brought my meals, and am not allowed to leave my room. They days blur together and I lack the capacity to know quite how many days go by. During this time I go through my process of finding everything in my room and putting them on the bed. Multiple times I go through the process of trying to save myself and every time I wonder why.
I turn my head, startled, as my door opens for the first time not during a meal. "Hey..." I see Paige, looking healthy again "they need us all in the lounge." Her expression faded immediately from the excitement of seeing me to complete macabre. "Dr. Morte won't say why..." she trails off her eyes distant.
I rise from my bed and hug Paige, something I've never done before, she feels hard and cold. I can't tell if I'm really feeling her or just sensing her mood, but the aura she is emoting causes me to let go. I walked out the door with Paige, following her towards the lounge. I open the door to the lounge, allowing Paige to enter first, I walk inside seeing all the prisoners as well as multiple guards and a man I've never seen before.
"Sit please Phillip," the man snaps. I obey him, but the incredulous look on my face gives him cause to explain, "there is very important business to discuss. Phillip? Have you noticed who is missing?" I look around the room, confused at first, but then it dawns on me; Clarice isn't here. "For those of you who are concerned, we did nothing to your friend." The severe looking man peers around the room. "She managed to leave the facility in the middle of the night." What does that mean? "We do not know how she escaped, nor do we know if we will be able to find her again. What we can assume is she has Awoken and we know for a fact none of you helped her."
He begins to pace the room, each step weighing heavy on the atmosphere. Clarice managing to escape speaks volumes to each of us, that we have to potential to achieve freedom. I never thought, I barely dared hope, that I would escape this place in any way outside of death. I turn my head away from the strange man, as the door to the lounge opens from the outside.
In steps Dr. Morte, looking petrified, like a man who has seen a ghost. The severe man stops pacing when the Doctor enters and smiles a humorless grin. I don't quite understand what is petrifying Morte, but I know from experience this type of fear only comes from those fearing for their life.
"Well, the main attraction has finally joined us. My good man Morte, if you could please approach the front of the room with me." The severe man spreads his arms, inviting Morte to join him.
Morte shuffles to the front of the lounge, his eyes almost animalistic as they dart from corner to corner of the room. "What is this about, Rubenstin?"
The severe man, whose name doesn't even glint my brain for recognition, "This is about one of your patients escaping." He turns to face us all, "this is about explaining to these children that we don't only punish their kind. This is a lesson in not doing as you are told."
With that he snaps his fingers and two guards on either side of Morte step forward. The guard closer to Rubenstin hands him what appears to be a very small gun. He holds it in his grip, stroking and rotating it like a prize. "This, children, is known as a Sleeping Gun. It is what we use when an Awakening occurs." He begins to walk the room, weaving between our individual seats. "With one press of the trigger the holder can kill any person."
He stops his weaving process adjacent to Morte, smiling with only his mouth; no part of his face ever indicating anything but arrogant confidence. "I know you children view us as monsters, grim reapers for the mutant kind. But we are more fair than you assume; normal people make mistakes too and they deserve equal treatment."
He points the Sleep Gun at Morte, "A mutant child Awoke, under your watch, and somehow escaped. For that Edward Morte, I cannot allow you to leave." With no further fanfare, Rubenstin pulled the trigger; Morte having no more time than a breath to react. The room let out a collective gasp as Morte's body hit the floor.
This was the punishment. For all of us, for Clarice getting herself out. We all got to witness the death of Morte, we all received a warning. For this was more than a simple statement about Morte not doing his job; this was a clear and vibrant threat. For if we attempted to join Clarice, or do what she did, we will end up like Morte.
It was in this moment I've decided, I will escape the facility. Whether I end up like Clarice or Morte, I will no longer be held here.