July 31st, 1984.
13
I am getting better. I always do good in the bath, telling Papa the words. I sit at the table in the white room, tapping my fingers on the surface. I can tap them in the same way over and over again and it sounds nice. Soothing.
"Eleven." Papa enters the room and I stop. He might think it's annoying.
"Eleven, I have a special job for you today."
"Yes, Papa?" I sit up straight.
"There is a man here. A very important man. You have to show him how good you are. How obedient. Can you do that for me?"
Papa wants me to help him. I can do that.
"Yes." I tell him. Papa smiles, but the worried look stays around his mouth and eyes. That is not good. This must be a very important man.
"He's here." A voice speaks through the black box hung in the corner of the room. Papa adjusts his jacket before replying.
"Send him in." The door opens and a large old man with hair the color of Papa's-though he has much less of it- and glasses walks in.
"Brenner." The man's voice has a nasty edge to it, like someone served him a sour lemon. I had a lemon once. It was good, but a bit too sour at first. Maybe this man had his first lemon just now.
"Mr. Cull. It's an honor to have you here." Papa smiles at the man, but the lines are still there around his mouth.
"Sit down Brenner. I want results, not flattery." Cull heaves himself into the chair opposite me and squints into my eyes. I try to look back into his eyes, but his face is distracting. There's so much of it.
"Of course." Papa sits next to Mr. Cull.
"This is Experiment Eleven?"
"Yes."
"You say she's gonna be some super soldier or shit?" The man pulls out a large brown tube- a cigar, I think it's called- and bites down onto it.
"We believe that she could be of use to the country, yes." Papa shifts somewhat in his chair and I squeeze my hands together under the table.
"She don't look like much." I frown a little at that comment. I am very good. I can do lots. I'm special.
"Eleven." Papa's voice is sharp and I look at him immediately. "Show this nice man what you can do."
A scientist enters and places a soda can on the table. I begin to feel more confident. This is easy. I concentrate on the can and crush it without any trouble.
The man's mouth opens slightly before shutting once more. "Hm. A crushed can ain't gonna help us against the Commies." He leans back in his chair.
The scientist sets a small hamster on the table. Oh no. They want me to kill it.
"Papa." I whisper, pleading with my eyes at him. I can do other things. Help Papa hear what the men say, float things, turn off the lights. But I don't want to kill this creature. It's small and fluffy and squeaks in its confinement, darting around the edges of its cage.
"Kill it." Papa commands coolly. Looking into his steely blue eyes I know he won't change his mind. I focus on the squirming hamster. My eyes tighten and I feel the familiar throbbing start in my head. I concentrate on darkness, death, ending. The animal squeaks and I let out a whimper before it collapses.
I feel that familiar warmth trickling down my nose and feel faint as I wipe at my bloody nose.
"But how do we know she'll be obedient?" Mr. Cull persists. I rest my head on the back of the chair, closing my eyes. I'm tired. So, so tired.
"Trust me, she'll do anything I tell her to." Papa reassures him.
"Anything?" There is something hidden under his words, a subtext that makes me prickle all over.
"Anything." Papa confirms. "Eleven, do you remember what I taught you last week? I want you to do that for Mr. Cull now. Make him feel good."
"Papa-" I pull my head up and look at him, resolutely avoiding the greedy eyes of Mr. Cull.
"Do it Eleven." Papa gestures to me and I reluctantly pull my gown off as I approach Mr. Cull.
"This seems like a very fruitful project, indeed." He chuckles as I kneel in front of him.
Their laughter stings in my ears.