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My eyes opened to a warm light shining upon my face. I reached out for it, realizing I was lying on my back. I reached further, trying to sit up but couldn’t. The light shone brighter, blinding me… as the light faded slowly and my vision returned I looked around me. All around me were televisions, each showing something different. One showed children running and laughing, another showed soldiers shooting and people screaming. So many scenes… I closed my eyes tightly and opened them again, hoping it all disappeared. Suddenly the light disappeared again. It was pitch-black and suddenly my heart began to race. I tried pushing myself up but I couldn’t even move my arms, I screamed out.
Nothing came to my rescue. It felt like hours I had lied there in the dark. I screamed until I lost my voice, I begged for whoever had me to let me go and I fought with the things holding me down. As my eyes drooped and my breaths slowed, music started to play. The music was like nothing I have ever heard, it was slow and it twisted my thoughts.
I screamed out one last time… I had no more words or strength to save myself. I felt like dying would be better.
A flash of light blinded me once more, the televisions all turned on at once. It was me… I was looking at everything surrounding me. I looked up at the camera watching me; it moved to get a better view. I turned back to a television and saw myself strapped to a torture bed-looking device. There was a table next to me. I stared at it, it held knives, sheers, pens, bloody gloves, pill bottles and shots with liquid bottles next to them but that wasn’t what scared me. The thing that scared me the most was the paper next to it with my name on it, my age, eye color, natural hair color and even my height and weight. Suddenly I felt nauseous and weak; tears rolled down my cheeks as I screamed louder and louder. I begged God to save me; I demanded where I was and who was holding me.
“Young child, your screams are worthless and no use fighting. You are not here to be tormented or hurt in anyway. You are just here for testing.” A voice came from all sides.
“Testing for what?” I sobbed.
“Testing how you react to the truth.”
“Why not someone else and not me?” I whispered
“You are special. Usually we test people since all humans are different and we return them before they realize they are missing… You get to stay here.”
“For how long?” I yelled.
I fought against the straps that held me and cursed and screamed. Suddenly people in masks came in through a door; they had hidden faces and bloody gloves on. I screamed in terror and cried as they grabbed my limbs and started injecting the shots into me.
I couldn’t speak, my breaths forcefully slowed and I became tired. As the world around me spiraled a woman took off her gloves and mask.
“Don’t!” one of the others said.
“She is just a frightened child; she deserves at least some answers.” The woman snapped back, she turned to me and stroked my hair.
I mumbled the words, “Why can’t I go home?”
She smiled sadly, “This is your home and I will protect you. Now sleep, child.”
As I tried to open my mouth blackness consumed me.