“A beginner.” I took over holding the cotton and bent my arm. “I don’t know how I feel about being experimented on by an amateur.”
She snorted. “I’m competent, I can assure you.”
“So you know everything there is to know about me, it’s only fair you at least tell me one thing.”
“What do you want to know?”
I asked and glances briefly at the camera. “Your name?”
“That’s not the way it works and you know it.”
“What is it they think I’m going to do?” I laughed under my breath. “Follow you home?” I gestured at my body. “As you can see, I’m definitely no threat to anyone.”
“It has happened before. Donors tend to think just because we …show more content…
“They still let me donate. Besides, you get to be the black widow here, without you, nobody could give.”
She laughed. “I guess you’re right. We all have our roles, don’t we? Now, close your eyes, Talen, and count backwards from twenty.”
I obeyed and focused on the girl beside me and not what was taking place: The sound of her raspy voice. How she smelled like a sweet pears ripened by the sun.
“That old saying” I mumbled, my face slack and weighted from the meds being pumped into my system. “Face your fears and you’ll conquer them? It’s a load of crap, Judy. It’s called torment... repeatedly subjecting yourself to your inner demons. No matter what you do, your fear is always there, waiting to come out--”
“You’re not counting, …show more content…
It made me smile before the nightmare took over and I forgot cute girls with pixie haircuts. I forget what lies ahead. I forget the safety of The Station. “Twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen…”
“Sh, Talen. Let the dream take you.”
It wasn’t a dream. It was real. “Fourteen...thirteen…”
When I was a child I had supernatural strength, but one day that all changed and my own body rebelled against me:
Look, I can fly,” I exclaimed, running with my arms spread like an airplane. I did doughnuts in a patch of bright sunlight making imaginary sounds of what I thought a superpower jet would sound like breaking the sound barrier. Spit flew from my vibrating lips as I envisioned my wing tipping and the clouds of smoke left in my wake.
I was tall for a second grader too, taller than most in my class. A giant. Not really but I was convinced. As I tipped a wing… Nearby my parents sat at a picnic table in the shade holding hands, they always held hands, to me holding hands was a normal thing parents did. Only later would I realize holding hands was my parent’s way of supporting each other through an emotional and difficult