Chapter Three

Zanna's POV

I walked into my house, absentmindedly putting my jacket on the coat hanger and dropping my bag on the ground. I went to the fridge and grabbed an apple and attempted to start on homework.

I looked at my math homework, the letters and numbers looking like gibberish. Normally, I am pretty good at math (as well as just about every other subject), but today my mind was elsewhere. I recalled the conversation I had held earlier with that girl, Max, and the other two people with her. What were their names? Angel, that was the little girl's name, but the guy's name still escaped me. I remembered it was unusual, even by my standards. Fang. That was it. But their names were probably the most the least unusual part of our conversation.

I recalled everything they told me. That this company called Itex (a name I recognize but can't quite place) has done experiments. Experiments with DNA. On humans. That Itex had created viable human hybrids with other species; namely birds and wolves. I thought it was a joke at first, and I am still not sure if it is. Come on, a person part bird part human? It sounded like a mad scientists delusions, not something actually credible. But that wasn't the oddest part of the conversation.

They thought I was an experiment of Itex. Max was going to go into more detail, but I cut her off. It was okay when they were telling me their delusions, but when their delusions included me; well, that's where I drew the line. But the words spoken when I left still chilled my bones.

(Flashback)

"This is ridiculous," I finally said. There were no mad scientists experimenting with DNA. I was listening before, but when their story started to involve me, I had enough. I was a regular human being, no genetically enhanced DNA or anything like that.

"I know it sounds crazy," Max said, looking slightly annoyed, "but it is true."

"Yeah, and pigs fly," I said, walking away.

"Well actually..." Max started before I could cut her off.

"No. No. I do not want to hear about it," I said, getting 'tweed off. I knew Max was going to say something about scientists playing with pig and bird DNA. If this was a joke, it was a really bad one.

"Wait," the guy named Fang said. I stopped. He had only spoken a word or two so far. I was just about to just ignore him and continue home, but he spoke again. "This is insane, believe me, I know. But you have to listen."

I spun around, looking him in the eyes. "I don't have to listen," I said icily. "I was playing around with your little joke before, but not anymore." I was irate; I hated it when people told me what to do. I don't know why, but that is one thing that absolutely bothers me. Fang just stared at me, his face still expressionless.

"Okay, you don't have to listen, but you really should," Fang continued in placating tone.

"Give me one reason," I said with my eyes narrowed. A part of me wanted just wanted to go home and forget about this odd conversation, but another part of me wanted to hear what Max and Fang had to say. They were persistent, and I thought if it was a joke they would have dropped the act long ago.

"Because you are curious. Because a part of you knows that what we are saying is true. Because you knew something was different about you, but you couldn't quite place it." I stared at Fang. Not because I was about to snap at him, but because what he had said was true. He was right, I have long thought something was different about me, but I have always disregarded it. But now…

But there was still no way I was going to listen to them. I hadn't decided if I believed them or not; they just might be playing me. Besides, the part of me that was thinking logically thought that they had no proof. If they had some sort of proof, maybe I would believe them. Maybe.

Then the little girl named Angel spoke directly to me. "Go home, Zanna. Go in your parents' room and search. You'll find the proof you need."

I was surprised at what Angel said. It was almost like she knew I wanted proof. I pushed that thought away, it was silly, even under the circumstances. Besides, I wouldn't go sneaking in my parents' room. We respected each other's privacy. My parents did not go in my room, and I didn't go in theirs. Snooping around in their room would be betraying their trust or something. I sound goody-goody, I know, but it's just how things are done at my house.

"They are not your real parents," Angel said. I saw the sadness in her eyes, and I knew she must have thought that was true. But it wasn't true, was it? How could my parents not be my real parents? Did Angel mean I was adopted? But neither of my parents had ever hinted about me being adopted. It wasn't true, it just wasn't…

"Meet us at Starbucks at five if you find something," Max said. I was about to say something, but they were already leaving. I don't know how long I stood there, trying to process everything. When I finally did realize I was just standing in the middle of the sidewalk looking stupid, I started home, trying really hard to forget everything Max, Fang, and Angel had said.

I headed upstairs to my room, since I knew I was not going to get any homework done. I was still thinking of what Angel had told me, that my parents were not my real parents. And everything else those three had said. I couldn't tell if it was joke. I still half expected some cameras to pop out saying, "Gotcha you!" for some weird reality TV show. But then again, this was way too original for some silly joke, and plus I could think of many things that would be much funnier than this. Gradually, I started to consider that what Max, Fang, and Angel had said could be true. But even if it was true what could I do?

I found myself right by my parents' room. The door was closed. I hesitantly put my hand to the doorknob, but only to take it back off as if it was burning hot. I mentally argued what I should do. I could just go along my way and forget about Max, Fang, and Angel. But I knew I couldn't do that. I was curious; very, very curious. And the more I thought about it, something about my life, about me, felt wrong.

I knew I was going to look in my parents' room. Besides, I reasoned to myself, if what Max said was true, then these people weren't my parents. So I shouldn't feel bad about sneaking into some stranger's room, right? And if the people I have spent my whole life with (well, as long as I can remember) weren't my parents, than I think I had bigger problems to worry about besides being caught snooping in my parents' room. I still didn't know what to call the people I thought were my parents. I decided on using innocent until proven guilty as my reason for still calling Marissa and Benjamin my parents. And if this was a joke or something, and Marissa and Benjamin were my real parents, then I don't think they would be too mad under the circumstances. At the worst, I would be grounded for a couple weeks.

Overall, the most rational choice was to look in my parents' room. So that was the choice I made. I put my hand to the doorknob again, but this time grasping it and opening the door. I felt almost excieted, as weird as it may seem. I have always been one to go by the rules (okay, for the most part; I would occasionally toe the line, but I never crossed it). But now it felt like I was crossing one of those police tape thingies that say "Caution: Do Not Cross. Violators Will Be Prosecuted" or something like that. I guess it was just my teenage rebelliousness kicking in.

My parents' room was plain, like the rest of the house (excluding my room). It was kept just as tidy as usual, and everything in its place. Not even a single penny lay on the ground, breaking out of its assigned space. I first went to filing cabinet-type thing where I knew my parents kept some of their personal important papers that weren't in the study. I skimmed through the papers, finding nothing of interest. Old bills, report cards, social security information, and other odds and ends were in the cabinet; nothing that gave Max any proof of their argument.

But then I spotted something. It looked like there was a little, teeny-tiny button in one of the drawers. I couldn't just press it with my fingers, so I grabbed a pen from the desk. I pushed the pen onto the little button, and pop, a secret compartment was reviled.

Tentatively, I grabbed the papers. There weren't as many as in the non-secret drawers. One in particular caught my interest. It was a binder, a color purple almost similar to my eyes. It was titled "Susanna Violet Morrison". It was my name. There were also a series of numbers on the binder, but I wasn't sure of the significance of them. I opened up the binder with sound of my rapidly beating heart.

I gasped when I opened to some random page. There were notes. Notes about my behavior. Notes about how I was doing academically, physically, and mentally. Most of the writing was typed, but there were a few handwritten notes scrawled on the side. I recognized the handwriting immediately. My mother's. Or, Marissa, I guess she really was to me now. I closed the binder, and looked at the other papers. There were two IDs. The names I hadn't heard of, but the faces I knew well. Angel was telling my truth. My parents aren't even my real parents. I didn't even know them by their real names!

So many emotions flowed through me. Shock. Anger. Sadness. Relief. Fear. Disappointment. Rage. It was overpowering. I don't ever remember feeling so many things at the same time. The emotions were so powerful; I had no clue what I would do if my so-called-parents walked into the room right now. I pushed those emotions out of my head. I couldn't deal with them now.

I glanced around the room. The laptop. I could see if there is any important information on the computer. I carefully put the papers back. One paper fell to the ground. I picked it up, and skimmed it. Tears started streaming down my face. It was a certificate of adoption. This proved everything was Max, Fang, and Angel had said was true. It proved my life was nothing but a lie. I read it carefully, seeing if I could find the names of my real, birth parents, but it didn't mention their names. I decided to keep this paper with me. I carefully folded the paper and put it into my pocket.

I wiped the tears from my eyes, gaining self control once again. I went to the laptop, and turned it on. It wasn't completely off, just in hibernation. I didn't know the password, but I was able to figure it out fairly quickly. I was pretty good with computers. When the computer loaded, I found that a program was already running. I didn't recognize the program, but I t looked high tech as far as websites go. I wasn't sure if I would be able to hack into it like I had with my-so-called-parents' laptop.

Luckily, though, I didn't have to. Someone was already signed on. I looked at what one of my-so-called-parents were up to before they left. On the top of the page it said in big, bold letters, "The Perfect Human Project". I read on for more information.

According to whatever program this was, "The Perfect Human Project" was an experiment to create a perfect human. I thought it was crazy. A perfect human? I recalled something I had heard once before. "If people were meant to be perfect, they wouldn't make pencils with erasers." That brought a tiny smile to my face.

I read on, soaking up as much information as I could. Most of the scientific stuff I didn't understand. But I understood enough. At a place called the School, scientists were attempting to create a superior human being. The School rang a bell, though. Oh, Max briefly mentioned it. I kept on reading. Pretty much what I got from those pages I read was this: A group of crazy, mad scientists are trying to engineer a perfect human. Such a perfect human would be superior to the current humans in pretty much every way. Their senses would be enhanced, their muscles stronger, their bones lighter and firmer, their organs more efficient, their brains much more evolved, and their intelligence much higher. It even mentioned that some of those perfect humans would have special abilities. Very special abilities, like ESP (extra sensorial perception for those of who aren't science geeks like me). Those perfect humans might be able to read minds, move objects, control forms of energy, heal themselves, and much, much more. I am not entirely sure how they would do this, but I do know that it all has to do with genetic engineering, and not the kind with plants. I guess the scientists would take out the certain genetic traits of other species and mix it with human DNA. So these "perfect humans" aren't even entirely human! And it said that the human DNA was much more evolved than regular homo sapiens (that's the scientific term for modern day humans). It seemed like these perfect humans would be like what Neanderthals are to us; just a stupid, less evolved species that will one day fade from the planet. I don't know about you, but I didn't think it was too smart of those scientists to create evolved humans. What if they wiped out all the humans that weren't as evolved as them?

I clicked on a link that said "See List Experiments". What I saw on that page shocked me more than anything I had seen so far that day, even my adoption certificate.

I saw some numbers followed by an A.K.A. Susanna Violet Morrison with a picture of me next to it. A picture of me, I feel inclined to add, which wasn't very good. If they were going to post a picture of me on this program, couldn't they have chosen a better one? I smiled, at the thought. Even though I was in a horrible identity crisis, I still managed to keep a sense of humor and a sense of style.

Of course I clicked on my name. I didn't even bother to read any of the other names on the list. At the moment I was more interested in what it had to say about me. As the screen uploaded, I saw my name and those numbers again, as well as that horrible picture. There was a little summary at the top. I didn't understand practically any of it.

I scrolled down, stopping at random places. There was a picture of me, around five years old. There was all sorts of technical stuff written on the pages, I understood only very little of it. There was a record of how I did during various tests; tests I don't even remember taking. I skipped to another page. There were diagrams which I had no clue were about. On another page were details about my DNA (or at least that's what it looked like).

I didn't understand much of anything that I read. But one thing I understood all too well. I was an experiment. I wasn't even human. I was created to be a perfect human. I didn't understand how I couldn't have known before, but it made sense. Too much sense.

I glanced at the time. It was quarter past four already. Max said to meet them at Starbucks at five if I found something. I printed some of the pages that seemed important, and put the computer back on the same screen I found it. I scanned the room, making sure there I left no evidence that I had been in there. I walked out of the room and closed the door. I went into my room.

I decided that I should prepare a bag or something in case I needed to leave quickly. Marissa and Benjamin were no doubt working for those scientists. I wanted to make sure I had some things in order in case they came to get me or something. I wasn't sure if I was just being paranoid, but better safe than sorry, I thought.

I started searching for a bag of some sort, a bag that would be big enough put clothes and stuff, but still easy to carry if I was on the run. I found an old bag I took camping years ago. That would do just fine.

I opened my closet, thinking of what clothes to put in the bag. When I looked at my big closet, I wasn't sure what clothes to throw in there. The bag was fairly big for a bag, but compared to the closet it was tiny. I wanted to pack some of my favorite outfits, but I decided against it. I would need clothes that were practical. So in the end I packed two pairs of jeans, a pair of sweat pants, and a pair of shorts, with four shirts, plus socks, underwear, and a bra. I tossed in an extra brush and other supplies. I found a lighter in the house, and put that in the bag too. It might be useful. I had my credit card, but I didn't want to depend on it. Just a single call and I could be cut off. So I grabbed most of my cash, around a hundred dollars or so. I knew my father kept some extra money in a place he thought only he knew about, so I grabbed another hundred fifty plus there. There was still a little room in the bag, so I put a sweatshirt. I would have my jacket with me now, so I didn't have to worry about that.

I looked at a clock for the time. It was four thirty five. Wow, I didn't know I could pack that quickly! Usually, when I would go somewhere it would take me hours to figure out what to pack. But I guess since I wasn't packing for a vacation or a sleepover, but for what may turn out to be running for my life, I was able to concentrate on what I really did need. I quickly changed into my favorite pair of jeans and a simple shirt with a hoodie over it, just in case.

I grabbed the bag I had packed and headed downstairs. Surprisingly, it wasn't heavy at all. I set down the bag and put on my jacket. I grabbed the bag again as well as my purse (I had put the papers I printed in there). I thought it would be a good idea to hide it somewhere, just in case I couldn't even go home for some reason. I knew of the perfect, secret place to hide the bag. You are probably wondering, where, where? But the point is to hide the bag in a secret place, and the place wouldn't be secret if you knew where it was and if you knew where the place was the bag wouldn't be hidden. See? I could be very logical even during times like this (although I'm not sure what I mean by "times like this").

After safely hiding the bag, I headed towards Starbucks. It was only a few blocks away, but I would make it on time. I spent the walk thinking everything through. I was still trying to digest everything. It was hard, especially because so many feelings kept popping through the emotional barrier I was trying to make. I didn't have time to think about my feelings. I couldn't think that my life was a lie. That I wasn't even entirely human…

I arrived at Starbucks practically right on time. I took a deep breath, and walked in. There was no telling what would happen next…

I hope you liked it.... Last night I was multitasking writing this and I watching "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" with my little sisters. Awww. I love this movie. It's so cute. But I do understand the Grinch (call me a Sroodge if you wish), the Who's singing is annoying after awhile. Now I'll get to listen to my sistsers singing those songs for who knows how long. But still, it's gotta be better than "Fly On The Wall". I have heard this song over and over and over and over etc. today alone. I don't know if I actually be able to write the next chapter anytime soon 'cause I'm going to have a private concert with my sisters singing thier fave songs. Happy December! (Reviews are greatly appreciated... Hint. Hint.)