Subject 23-Z

Frank pov


I truly never thought my life would end up like this, locked away in a tortuous 'prison-like' cell, being tested on like an animal. I never thought my life had gotten so low I had to resort to this. I guess calling the room 'prison-like' isn't really fair because the room isn't terrible surprisingly.

It's actually got a nice twin sized bed with a thick blue blanket on top of it. The blanket seems to have been washed recently or at least within the last month so it can't be too bad and there's a sturdy wooden nightstand standing next to the bed. On top of the nightstand is a lamp, the base a black color and the shade an off shade of white. There's also a separate room connecting to the main room. It's not a big room by any means, but it's nice because having two rooms makes the room seem that much bigger.

The main room isn't large either, but the doorway leading to the bathroom area makes it seem more open. In the bathroom, there is a white toilet, with a small white sink with a thin base and an extremely small shower sitting in the corner of the room. The shower has an ugly army green shade to it, but who am I to judge? Obviously they didn't choose the furniture for style, it's more just for a purpose.

I walk out of the bathroom and plop down onto the bed, waiting for the next doctor to come in and check on me like they've been doing so frequently. I feel like they think that if they leave me alone for too long, im going to escape somehow, or do something to myself so they can't test on me and then their whole experiment will be ruined. I doubt they'll even care about me, just about my blood.

It's all my bloods fault anyway, I just HAD to be born with a new kind of blood type. I don't even know how I got this type of blood. I wonder if I was just born with it or something happened? I mean I guess I'll never know since my mom wasn't very...aware I guess you could say, during my childhood. I didn't have the greatest childhood because my mom was always working and my dad left her before I was even born.
My mom was constantly out working from five to midnight so I hardly ever got to see her, and I was usually home alone. When I was too young to stay home alone, I always went over to my neighbors house, the Weston's. I always thought if them as my real family because they were the only ones ever there for me really. My mom was always gone, so Mrs. Weston was the one telling me bed-time stories and tucking me in at night. She was the real mother I had always wanted, and even though I knew my real mom was a great mom, she just couldn't be there for me and it wasn't her fault. She was doing everything she could to help me.

When Mrs. Weston died Mr. Weston moved by himself and we never saw them again. It was devastating for me since it was like my mother had died, and I basically lived like an orphan. Luckily though, when Mrs. Weston died I was old enough to be home alone so my mother didn't have to pay extra money from her paycheck to hire someone to watch me while she worked.

From then on, I stayed home alone for most days, except for when i wasn't in school. I wasn't the greatest student grade wise, but I was always one of the quietest kids, so the teachers at least had some respect for me. The kids, not so much. It started in third grade when I began to become ignored. One day, all of the kids started conversations with me, and then the next they all acted like I never existed. Like I had vanished from existence. It was traumatizing for the first few days, and then i just began to become used to it. It was now in my routine to walk through the hallways without so much As a glance in my direction. I started sitting in the back of classrooms, and the teachers never called on me. Sometimes they even forgot to hand out tests to me so I sat there without taking the test and just stared at the wall or the back of the kid in front of me's head.

When I got to middle school, I began to get fed up with all of the ignoring, so I finally said something. I got up in front of the whole school and said only a few simple words.

"I'm still here."

I still remember that day, every detail. I remember I couldn't take it anymore. The thing that truly crushed my heart, pulverized it, was after I said something, people just carried on with their days. They didn't say anything to me, they just acted like the ph did before again. After that I gave up, I embraced the fact that I was ignored and I lived like that until now. This is the first time I've been recognized, and it's a weird feeling for me. Hearing all of these new things like,

"You're special."

I'm just not used to it so I deny the fact that they think that if me. I'm not used to being cared about in any way. I'm not used to people caring about what I do, or say. It's all new to me and I know that deep in the back of my mind, I enjoy it, even if it's just a little bit.

That's why my mom never took me to the doctor before though. She was just too busy. I'm kind of glad she didn't bring me earlier though because then this would be happening so much sooner, and I don't know if I could've spent my whole life locked in here. It would of slowly driven me mad. I probably would be insane if she brought me sooner, so I guess that was one positive thing.

"Frank?" I voice says from outside of the door and im brought out of my deep thoughts. The door swings open surely after and im met with the face of a female doctor holding a clipboard.

"We're going to begin your testing tomorrow," She says. "I suggest you get some sleep because we will begin very early." She says, and I nod. Walking over to the door, she shuts it behind her and flicks off the light.

"Guess I'm going to bed," I whisper to myself. "I've got a long day ahead of me tomorrow." I say to myself, a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

This is it, this is what starts as my new life of torture.

Notes

Sorry bout the short chapter, I just felt like there needed to be a little bit more of an explanation on Franks past. I hope ya like it!


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