Chapter 1

Solitude.

Noun.

The state or situation of being alone.

The word solitude and its definition...is all I've ever known. It was like an iron chain I was tied to, being dragged by it down a bottomless pit I could never escape from. Solitude. There it was on the big flat screen tv, right in front of me. The font, big and bold, the definition cruel, and relative. Solitude.

"Ms. Packston, please give me the definition of solitude," said the flying drone next to the television.

I hesitated, feeling my throat dry and my fist tighten. Solitude. Out of all the words in this galaxy, it's the one word I detest the most. Being alone is what I hate the most, the thought of dying alone, and not having a single companion, is what I fear most in the world. And that fear has already become a reality, since the moment I was born.

"Solitude, noun, state or situation of being alone,"

"Thank you, next word, decease,"

The screen flickers to the next word.

"Decease, noun, another word for death,"

"Thank you, next word, conflict,"

"Conflict, noun, a serious disagreement or argument,"

"Thank you, next word, leadership,"

"Leadership, noun, the action of leading a group of people or an organization,"

"Thank you, next word, war,"

"War, noun, a state of armed conflict between different nations or different groups within a nation or group,"

"Thank you, next word, destruction,"

"Destruction, noun, the action of causing so much damage to something that it can no longer exist, and can never be repaired,"

"Thank you, final word, homicide,"

"Homicide, noun, the deliberate killing of one person by another...in other words murder,"

"Correct, well done Ms. Packston, we will be reviewing these 7 words tomorrow for our History session, that will be all for today, please report back to the drone and wait for your further instructions,"

*beep

The flat-screen went black, and the flying drone's red light turned off, landing on the ground in a white square pod, recharging. I turned around to see another flying drone next to the glass door, it was as if it was just standing there the whole time.

It started hovering over to me, it was built like every other one hundred drones in this place. Circular, coated in white, light blue strips, had a small rectangular black screen that showed a pixel smile. The red light on the top of its head, beeping.

"Ms.Packston follow me to the lab," it said.

Oh no.

Experimentation.

Noun.

The process of performing a scientific procedure, especially in a laboratory, to determine something.

I don't know the word to explain the emotion I have towards it. I don't know how I feel about it.

I got up from my seat, and silently nodded at the drone. The drone hovering over to the glass door leaving the classroom, barely a classroom really. It was just a one hundred square room, with glass walls, with a tv, and a small desk and chair as its furniture. That was my classroom. I followed the drone down the hallway, it was a narrow hallway with white walls and marble floors. Everything in this building was white, glass, marble, bright, monitored, suffocating. The walls, the floor, the flickering lights, my uniform, the drones, it was all suffocating.

The drone stopped, we were in front of an iron door with no handle. There was a sign attached above the door, saying "danger".

Danger.

Noun.

The possibility of something unwelcome or unpleasant.

Unpleasant, there is it, that's the word, that's how I feel about experimentation.

The drone turns to me, hovers next to me, telling me to go inside and wait for the instructor, like I usually do. Its voice was raspy, robotic, just like every other drone. No human emotion.

I nodded, and it hovered away down the hall. The iron door opened, and I put my cold hands in my uniform pocket. I was wearing a white hospital uniform, the ones the nurses usually wear, which is weird, I was also bare feet. It was rather comfy and fairly decent, and it had pockets.

Pockets.

Noun.

A small bag is sewn into or on clothing so as to form part of it, used for carrying small articles.

I don't use it to carry anything, but it's useful for warming my hands. The temperature in this building is like living in an icy cold land with just your undergarments, and the only thing keeping you from freezing to death were these thick gloves, that are so warm.

As I walked inside the laboratory, there it was. The brown wooden chair with straps and two white earbuds on the seat, standing in the middle of the three hundred square room. White walls and marble floors. The usual. You couldn't really call it a laboratory, according to the books, there should be tables, experimenting tools, and chemicals all in different colors, but that's what they called it anyway.

I walked up in front of the seat and put the earplugs on, and then sat down strapping myself to the chair. I fiddled with my hands, my throat hurting more than usual. I'm used to this. It happens all the time. Every day, at this same hour. They experiment on me, those people. It's only for a short while, maybe about 2 to 3 minutes, so I shouldn't be scared. In this room, there's a big rectangular window at the top of the iron door. I can't see who it is because on my side it's black, but I know they can see me.

"Are you ready Viana," they said on a loudspeaker. It was muffled because of the earbuds, but I could tell it was a man's voice.

I nodded.

Terrified.

Verb.

Cause to feel extreme fear.

I was terrified, I always have been. These experiments were always unpleasant for me, but they were also terrifying. Terror was all I knew and got from them. From the people who lied to me and the ones that say it's to help me, but they're lying, they're all liars. They fear me and keep me locked up in here because they're terrified of me, and what I'd do to the society that so casted me out. But I was just like them, I was terrified of looking at the demon inside of me.

Demon.

Noun.

An evil spirit.

That's right, I'm an evil spirit.

An area of the floor opened up right in front of me. Pulling up a rectangular mirror right in front of me. I looked at my reflection as I sat down. Curly brown-black hair that was tied into a messy bun, skin a warm undertone of chestnut, jawline defined, cheeks chubby, face pale, eyes swollen and tired, and most of all that stood out, eyes the richest color of purple.

I used to know a person that called me beautiful, would brush my hair, would cup my chubby cheeks, and smile at me as if I was the prettiest girl in the world. But my memory fails me like it always does, and I can't seem to remember but tiny little memories of someone brushing my hair, of someone pulling me into a tight hug, it was warm, nice, comfortable, and it felt...safe.

Safe.

Adjective.

Protected from or not exposed to danger or risk

I looked at my reflection, ready to endure the torture I was gonna face. I closed my eyes, breathing in and out slowly, making my thoughts drift.

"Countdown is starting,"

I'm hungry, I wonder what's for dinner.

"3"

I hate the white walls, it's so blinding, it's like staring directly into the sun. Not that I have in a long time.

"2"

My eyes are so swollen, I should try sleeping, instead of looking at the ceiling all night.

"1"

I wonder if I could be a normal human like the female heroines in storybooks.

"Now"

"AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH,"

I started screaming, the pain is unbearable, the amount of energy there amplifying in my brain is impeccable. I stare into the mirror as my entire body fills with pain, and there I see it. The evil spirit. The black monstrous shadow forming from within my body, it's pushing itself out of me, creating this squeaky noise that can make one's ears bleed to death. The earbuds aren't just for brain amplification, but to also help me from the squeaky noise. The black shadow is screaming, I'm screaming, we both are. I looked up to the window, shouting stop, I couldn't move, I was strapped to the chair, and the chair was embedded to the floor, escaping this was impossible.

"STOP PLEASE"

The noise, the pain, the suffocation, it was terrible. All of it I'm so used to but I hate.

I looked back at my reflection, looking at the black shadow that was struggling to come out of my body like it was stuck like it was impossible. "Get out" I want to say to it, "please get out" I want to say," Get out and stop making my life so miserable" "Get out and run far away". I felt the tears come down my face, and the rage and pain coming out of my screams.

Till suddenly it all stopped.

The pain, the noise, it all stopped, I looked at my reflection, seeing the spirit go back in my body.

It's over.

A small piece of the ground opened up again, and the mirror went back inside. The iron door opened and hovered a much bigger drone, this one with hands, it hovered over to my chair, unstrapping me.

"Experimentations have ended, you may report back to your room to do your homework, and then have dinner, follow me,"

Classic, those people behind that window didn't even care to make sure I was ok. But then again it isn't new, I should be used to it.

I got up from the chair while whipping my tears with my bare hands and nodded. I started following the drone until it suddenly stopped.

"Also Ms.Packston, there's good news that came from the commander, you'll be having a classmate."