“What!” I gasped, unable to contain my breath. “I’m your… Your… Mother!”
“Well, yes,” he says, tapping his perfectly chiseled chin. “that was my point.”
“Wait a minute,” I say catching air slowly. “wouldn’t killing me erase you from history?”
“In normality, yes.” Dr. Chandler said. “But since we have evolved into this certain era with you it wouldn’t matter.”
I couldn’t believe my very own son would do this to me. Even if I wasn’t his Mother yet this still pained me.
“Just to make it straight, what happened to your Father?”
“Oh, we’re still looking for him. Chances are that he may have the same dna as you.” Chandler said, gleefully, as though he was a dog with a jar of peanut butter.
“Now come,” he says. “I’ll take you to your jail cell.”
***
When Dr. Chandler takes me to my jail cell, I can expect nothing more. The jail cell’s interior is blotched white. White walls, floors, beds, toilet, door, everything. There are two places in my rooms where the guards can place my food. My bed is rectangular and long with a small practically featherless, white pillow on it.
Dr. Chandler pushes me in the cell and hands me some white pants and a white shirt with a small black blanket on the top.
“Wear your uniform, and sleep automatically. We need you energized for tomorrow’s blood test.” he pauses to say, “Nightie night, Mother.” he snickers as he says it than stalks away.
“Arrogant fool.” I mutter under my breath. “He has no respect.”
***
That night I lay there in my bed under the thin layered black, cotton blanket Dr. Chandler gave to me, shivering. My arm aches from the loss of blood and it feels as though it cannot move. I sit upright and peer out the window. The night is a glossy black color with stars dotting the sky like little light bulbs in a room. The brightness reflects off the light into my eyes and look away of the burning feeling. I don’t do anything else but stare at the crescent moon and it’s overlapping of the beautifully lit sky as the night swallows me whole.
***
I don’t know when it happened but I know it did. Waking up my arm feels sore just like it was the night before. They must have taken my blood as soon as they knew I had fallen asleep. I know I’m gonna die in this helpless prison helping the enemy when I’m not even trying to. Were they lying to me when they said that Camila was alive? Maybe they were. I mean the supposed to-be nice lady was a lie too, so I can see that Camila will be most likely dead but I will not give up on hope. Actually, maybe I will.
***
The next morning a hoarse voice awakens me and I soon figure out that the owner of the voice is my personal guard.
“We have a visitor for you, requested by Dr. Chandler.” he says craning his neck to peer more inside to check whether I was getting up.
“I’m coming.” I murmur as I walk to the metal bars, gripping my fingers tightly around them. The guard then takes some white handcuffs and locks my hands to his. God these people are obsessed with the color white! Where did they come from? Whitopia?
“There,” he says. “now you can’t escape.”
I follow him down a white hall which I pretty much expected to see until I reach a room pitch black of color. “Maybe they were obsessed with black as well.” I mutter. The guard glares at me.
“Anyway,” he says. “this is your stop.”
I peek into the cell. No one I can see is there. Then the lights beam on, reflecting off the white handcuffs. Then I see her. Her hair still in that ponytail and her mocha hair growing a nest for baby dandruff birdies.
“Camila…” I whisper. Her head cocks up and she runs towards me but something pulls her back.
“Where have you been?” her voice is rough like cactus thorns and I flinch.
“You know, looking for you.” I say. She smiles at that and I smile too. Then I see something in the dark. A moving shadow. Crimson leather skin appears with yellow stained nails.
“Camila!” I scream and the guard covers my mouth with his leather gloves, white as expected, keeping me from getting to her. I watch as she turns around and screams. She gets dragged into the dark as she claws at the ground for safety but she’s gone. The guard finally let’s go of me.
“What was that!” I scream of anger as I push him. “What was that!” I push him harder this time.
“It was a Grongula.” he replies calmly. “Her name is Scarlet.”
“What’s a Grongula?” I ask.
“It’s our newest species, a lizard that can chomp anything up if we want her to.”
“Are you saying she’s gonna eat my sister up!” I scream.
“As long as you follow the orders, your sister won’t die.” he says smirking now. “Not likely that’ll happen anyway, just don’t get your hopes up.”
***
The guard takes me back to my cell. Since I’ve left there has been a new blanket placed on the bed. It’s very thick and red and puffy like your eyes when you cry about something so sad like someone’s death. Next to the blanket is a silver tinted tray with three orange slices and a salad. They were probably trying to keep me healthy so I could have healthier blood. I decide not to eat. I hope they get some rotten blood that’s useless. I don’t want to help them wipe out the human race. I’ll just fix that destiny by turning it around.
***
Once the guards are all sleeping I reach into one of the guard’s pocket and take a pair of keys. I then quietly unlock the door and push it open with my finger tips and walk out. Who knew it would be that easy I think walking past the guard. As soon as I take one more step an alarm goes off. I quickly drop the keys rush back into my cell, close the door and pretend I’m sleeping. Once the remaining guards come to check they don’t even suspect me. They just blame the guard.
“Hey!” says one guy nudging the sleeping guard’s toe with his foot. “Why are you sleeping on a watch and more importantly, why are the keys on the ground?”
The sleeping guard wakes up and says in a groggy voice, “I’m sorry, it’s just you know they can’t be that smart so I just thought I’d take a nap.”
“Well you’re lucky they’re not or I would’ve hauled your dirty, tired butt out of here in a heartbeat. Understand.”
“Yes sir!” The man salutes, rising to his feet like flowers sprouting out of rich soil.
Then he walks into my cell.
“Now let’s see if you’re a smart one after all.”
***
When I wake up the next morning I feel different. I feel funny and jiggly like jell-o. I feel like I need a hug or a kiss. A chocolate one or a real one. I feel gooey at the thought. I probably need more cool air than anything else though. The guard from last night steps into the room and feels my forehead. His hand is cool and I feel like I’m in paradise. At least until he takes it away. Then I’m burning again like wearing one hundred layers on a eight hundred degree summer’s day.
“Gosh you’re burning.” he says worried. Then he picks up a phone and tells the doctors to come down immediately. As soon as I can blink twelve times rapidly, doctors appear. I am still in the guard’s hands when they come. I look at my fingers and see how pale they are. Like a light pink sky that rarely shows. I feel like I’m dead. Like I’m in Heaven where the angels fly and my whole family is there. Even Camila who died because of my death. What did we ever do wrong? I mean we set the future for these people and in return they give us death. I at least hope when I die that Chandler will be dragged along with me but not to Heaven.
***
Sometimes when I was little my Dad would take us to carnivals. Not those carnivals with the cheap pony rides and baby teacup carts. The ones with roller coasters and mega sized ferris wheels next to the snow cones and cotton candy stands. The one you have to wait in line for hours to get to. He would buy us treats and would go on all the rides with us. He would let us play games until we won a prize to make us feel like winners. That all changed once Mother died. She died on a Friday. The best day of the week in my opinion. The day we would have family game nights and have take out from Smash Burgers. Dad picked us up as usual since Mother would be doing work at home. When we arrived home though the lights were off. At first we thought she was sleeping. Then when we entered the house there was a hole blasted through her. It was like a piece of her body was taken out of her. Blood soaked her periwinkle blotched blouse and her mouth was open in a scream. In her hands she was clutching a picture of us. A picture of us together in a garden of fresh and bright orange tulips and simple, brown windmills in the background. We were on a stop from viking river cruises.
Dad had cried the most out of everyone since she was his first love and his ‘soul mate for life’. I wonder who I married, who my soul mate was. I wonder if I’ll ever know.