Naomi sat peacefully with her blanket in her lap. She loved to sit and think for just a few minutes a day. There was something therapeutic about letting your imagination run wild. She looked above herself to see the floor waiting for her. She looked back at the hard surface of the ceiling, trying to decide how she was going to get down without falling on her head. She was sitting upside down on the ceiling, after all. She thought back to the day before. She found out that she could do this just a little while back, but never really tried to actually do it. Yesterday, she did it perfectly, but fell on her head. She screamed and she cried, and Genevieve marched in with her men as usual, did a quick concussion check, scribbled notes down on her clipboard and then left again. She sighed as she fell, this time making sure to fall on her feet. Suddenly, she heard a beautiful melody.
She walked over to her bed. Resting peacefully on her pillow was a little wooden music box with the name "Alma" engraved on the top. She smiled and closed it. She turned around to see the girl she saw at the playground standing just a foot away from her. She made her jump and she practically dropped the music box. They stood in silence momentarily. Finally, Alma held out her hand to her, just like she did back at the playground. Naomi put the music box down and began to reach out to her hand. Hesitantly, her finger tips met her palm. Suddenly, a bolt of electricity shot down her entire body. She collapsed on the ground, feeling as if she had just been stabbed in the skull. That is when the visions came.
My baby! Please don't take my baby!
Blackness.
She slowly opened her eyes to see her in a surgery room, filled with doctors rushing right and left, screaming for different tools to keep her stable.
Blackness.
She barely opened her eyes to see Genevieve talking to a man in a white lab coat.
"Do you think that she will still be okay to use?" Genevieve asked the man.
"I am not sure, ma'am. She is very-"
"Her health! Is she healthy?"
"She is healthy."
"Excellent. The project continues as soon as possible."
Blackness.
"Darling, wake up dear. I need you to open your eyes."
Groggy and disoriented, Naomi did as she was told. She saw Genevieve sitting next to her.
"Good morning, sleepy head." Naomi looked at her, confused. "Can you lift your right hand for me?" Naomi complied. "Now the other." She complied once again. "How old are you, Naomi?"
"Six."
"I am afraid that you are incorrect, my dear. You are nine." Naomi gave her a confused look. "You have taken a very long nap. You have been asleep for the better part of three years. But, you are well rested, healthy, and safe from…what happened. That girl you met is not your friend, nor your enemy. She doesn't exist. Would you like to know more about yourself?" She nodded as she slowly sat up, somewhat worried. "Your entire purpose for being here is Paxton Fettel. Do you remember him?" She nodded. "He is your only friend, but soon he will be much more than that. You have an undying love for him, as he does you. One day, when you are much older, you will prove to him your undying love." She nodded, believing everything coming out of her mouth. "You are destined to do great things, Naomi Black," she said with a smile as she brushed the hair out of her face. "But for now, you must rest. Tomorrow, you will see Paxton once again." With that, Genevieve left the room.
Naomi let her head fall hard against her pillow, letting the events of today soak in. She thought back to the girl she saw three years earlier. She was just a figment of her imagination. She looked over to the corner she resided in. She was standing there once again, watching her. She rolled over to her side, trying to ignore her.
You don't exist, Naomi thought to herself, terrified. You don't exist.