October 28th, 1984.

13

I am going 'outside' today. The doctor men told Papa that I should for my health. I don't really know what that means, but apparently it has something to do with how my skin is much lighter than everyone else's and how small I am.

My hair is getting longer though. That is a good thing. And I am getting better in my training. Instead of just Mike and Troy, I now have two other teachers, Chief Hopper and Ms. Max.

Hopper teaches me how to lie. Lying is when you say one thing, but you mean another. Papa called it acting, but Hopper told me that acting is just lying with you whole body, and not only your mouth.

We play a lot of poker.

Ms. Max teaches me 'people skills'. Apparently, my 'people skills' are rusty. She shows me how to make people laugh, how to move gracefully, how to dance, and even how to eat the right way. And she is funny. But she has hard edges under her grace and humor.

She knows how to make someone hurt. But she doesn't make herself proud of it. Its just a fact of her existence. She is warm to me. And I know I can trust her.

I know many words now. I can read the signs I see in the rooms, I can write my own stories about me and Papa, and I can read Mike's nametag. He is sitting on the chair in my room. I am on my cot. We are waiting for Papa to go outside. Mike is sort of my protector now. Papa likes him. Thinks he's real smart.

"Mike…Mike-hull. Wheel-er." I whisper as I make out the letters. "Joon-yur sci-ence-test." I look up to see if I did it right. A smile lights up his face and I feel a trembling in my stomach. That's another thing I've learned. When I do something right and Mike is proud of me, I get this funny feeling in my stomach. Like there are little mice running around inside me.

It doesn't just happen when he's proud of me. Sometimes it comes just when his hair looks very fluffy, or he wears that blue shirt I like, and quite often during my bleeding time, for no apparent reason. I have not had a bleeding for two months though, for which I am glad.

And I am getting fatter. The doctors say that is a good thing. I just notice that my chest lumps are round now, instead of just being pokey. It's an improvement. Well, except for the fact that Papa touches them more now. Touches me more. But that's okay. It's just my body. And anyway, he's my Papa. My Papa loves me. That's why he does everything. For me. And the country, whoever that is.

"Good job!" Mike congratulates me. "Your reading is getting great." I duck my head at the praise.

"Wheeler. Eleven. Come." Papa gestures to us. I slip on a pair of flat shoes to go with my loose gray jumpsuit and follow him. The protection men surround us. Papa says they're here for my safety, but I feel scared nonetheless. They are so big. Mike, Papa, and all the scientists are skinny, but these men are large and spread out. Like the yellow paste I smear on my bread for breakfast. They feel rough.

Papa walks briskly through white hallway after white hallway, the doors getting progressively thicker as I shuffle after him. The last door takes a code and a swipe from a key card. Then Papa takes a strange square device and holds it behind my ear, where I feel a stranger buzzing.

"What's that, Papa?" I inquire gently. He doesn't reply and I don't press it. I want to see the outside.

One of the big men pulls the door open and I follow Papa out of it, Mike trailing behind us, scribbling something onto a notepad.

Then I am blinded. A sudden rush of cold greets my skin and I gasp, squeezing my eyes shut. I open them a few seconds later because I desperately wish to know where I am. It doesn't seem spectacular at first. I stand in a gray rectangle, white building on three sides, and several rows of barbed wire fencing on the other. There is some green far beyond the wire. That is interesting, but not amazing.

Then I look up. A blue sheet seems to have been thrown over the top of the world. White swirls flow through the sheet, looking soft and comfortable. In the corner, reigning supreme, is a massive yellow-white sphere. I glance at it for a moment, then cover my eyes when it hurts. It is beautiful.

"Eleven. Walk some laps." Troy barks from where he has appeared at Papa's side. I obey, eyes trained on the top-the sky, I remember Mike calling it- as I go. I want to spend forever in this cool blue swirl. Forever.