Chapter Three: Book One: Unlucky
It was late that I awoke. I tried to move, but I felt metal holding my body down to a hospital bed. I opened my eyes and I realized that I was not in my crate, I was in a room on the 2nd floor, the medical floor, where experiments are taken for medical tests or if something goes horribly wrong. And that means horribly wrong.
Sounds of heart monitors and other gadgets echoed in my ears. The walls on the right of me are glass, but I know that I wouldn't be able to break out. The glass is probably too thick for me to manage to crack it. I turn my head, examining the room. The wall in front of me is also glass, but no White Coats are in that room, so I guess that is the room they watch me in. The ceiling is pure white, and it makes me sick just looking at it. The only white I want to see is on the clouds I saw. The floor is black tile and the walls to my left are both black. I let out a small grunt, not willing to speak. A bunch of machines are connected to various parts of my body, even one cord is hooked into my right wing, and they all make annoying noises. I hear footsteps and I go limp. I see walking into my room. He sits on a chair beside of my bed. I frown, wondering what he is here for.
"Are you okay?" He asks. I almost say yes, but I feel a shooting pain coming from my wings to the rest of my body.
"No," is all I can say. He nods and goes to work, mumbling about how he never should have done this. I want to roll onto my side and sleep, but I cannot because I am forced down by the metal bars around my legs, wings, and arms. I want to escape from this room and go back to Night, Zeb, and Rovi, but I can't. My entire body aches even more than normal as I try to move my head around. I wished for their comfort. Sadly, all I had was the human that had put me through all this in the first place.
"There, that should keep you alive for now. However, you are going to have to stay in an observation room for a little bit. I think it might be a bit big, actually," he said, and I listened intently. Then, he starts turning to a bunch of other machines and starts mumbling about how my wings malfunctioned when something I cannot properly spell was injected in between of my shoulder blades.
"Why?" I asked him in a soft voice. He barely turns his head. I feel adrenaline start coming back to me. I feel it pumping through my veins, something I missed. "Why me?"
I keep asking him and asking him, not knowing why. I ask him again, shouting this time. He turns his head, worried. He still does not answer me. This makes me mad. I scream this time, "Why me?"
"You are very special. You are a survivor. You do not know what you are, but you are very, very special," he said and that leaves me angrier. I shout at him and try to break out of the metal bars, but he quickly presses a button and I feel myself growing tired quickly. I keep thrashing around, but I have no more strength. Soon, I am nearing unconsciousness. But the question remains: Why keep me alive? He starts punching in numbers on his fancy little computers that control the machines keeping me alive. I cock my head, even though it hurts to move, and think. Why is he keeping me alive? He could just kill me now and it would be over. He could mess with my friends all he wanted and I wouldn't be around to care. So, why keep me?
"Why?" I mutter, realizing the medication might be making me go a little crazy since I am so tired. Dr. Allakaina glances at me with a concerned expression, still typing on the computers. I cannot help feeling like I am useful to them. Why else would I still be alive? I remember hearing about a girl called Maximum Ride. The girl gave me hope, hope that we would all get out someday, but now I have less hope. The thoughts echoed through my brain and I frowned. "Just... Why?"
But Dr. Allakaina stays silent, working on the computers for a long time. I can't help but feel hat he wants to keep me alive. I mentally shake my head. No. No scientist has ever been kind to one of us. But maybe he was the one. I mentally shook my head again, and instead focused on wondering what he was doing. I can't help but thinking he is trying to help me become better in his own, evil way. Sure, scientists are insane wackjobs my group and I vowed to never trust but maybe sometimes they were trying to make us be... I don't know, better.