My hair is jumbled in knots. I haven’t had a decent comb since the people of the future came. These days my hair gets stuck to everything. Cell bars. Beds. Food, talk about disgusting! Cathy said that she had an offer on the table for me. She said she would get me a brush if I got Camilla to give up her blood. I was astonished by Cathy’s unfair deal. I mean would Camilla’s blood even be useful to them and was Cathy testing my instincts or was Camilla’s blood more powerful and the dawn of the people from the past would be over? I was feeling a pendulum of emotions. Cathy stands in front of me now, with a beautiful shiny bronze colored hair brush. Was I really giving up my sister for a hair brush?
“I know you want the hair brush Bree, so come and take it.” Cathy hisses. I don’t move. “Why don’t you just take the freaking hair brush Bree?” Cathy’s voice rises now. “I said why don’t you take the hair brush and give me Camilla!?” She screams and her voice is like rough sandpaper against my throat.
“How do I know whether Camilla is useful to you or not?” I ask.
“So you will give up your sister but only is she’s not useful?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you did.” Cathy chuckles. “Oh Bree. Don’t worry I would have done the same.” She throws the bronze hair brush into my lap.
“Thanks Hon!” She says, walking straight out the cell’s doorway.
***
I am confused. Did I really say yes to Cathy and just gave my sister away? Like that!? Camilla would never do that. I regret my decision. Camilla was more useful than me any day. Plus she’s my sister and sisters don’t leave each other to dust. Unless they are like you know Rose and Maggie. Or Mary and Anne Boleyn.
***
For a while I thought I would never see that Linc again but here he is. Taking me to visit my sister. AGAIN. Camilla is in a test tube when I get into the room she stays in. The hospital room.
“What’s going on?” I mumble to myself, knowing no one will here. I inspect the room. Vials and test tubes filled to the brim with blue, green, and purple liquids stock the shelf to the left side with a sign stating; INJECTION. On the right side shelves stocked with red, clear, and black liquids are barely to be seen with the label: RADIOACTIVE. I see some men dressed in purple lab coats pour the purple liquid into the large test tube that Camilla floats in like a helpless doll, her eyes closed, like she’s sleeping. The purple lab coated men step back and the white lab coated women step forwards with clear liquid. I look to the right shelves. Radioactive I think. What have I done? The white lab coated women pour the clear liquid in and step back. Camilla’s eyes pry open and her cocoa brown eyes bore into my skull, flashing a mediterranean sea blue color. Her skin lumps up, in a pale white color and spikes rise up her back. She roars in fury. Pounding herself against the wall, trying to escape.
“How do you like it.” I turn around. Cathy’s voice had interrupted my thoughts. “Beautiful isn’t it.” She sighs.
“What did you do to her?”
“Didn’t you know? She’s the new and improved Grongula. With her skills… Well she’s unstoppable.” Cathy cackles. “You know I lied earlier. I wouldn’t trade my sister for a comb. But my sister would. I mean I should know better. My sister traded me for a bagel after all.”
***
In one way I feel bad for Cathy. I mean if her sister didn’t give her up for a bagel Camilla would still be Camilla. They had to inject some of that green liquid in the INJECT pile into me because I knocked out Linc for not saving Camilla and gave Cathy a bloody nose from my foot. I think the green one is supposed to bring me to a calm state. Not that I know of any calm state consisted with in me. Nada. Nothing. Linc woke up like ten minutes after I knocked him out. Impressive for a girl like me but not for him. He said that his sister, Veronica, once knocked him out for back talking to her best friend Ross. He woke up an hour later.
I wish I was Veronica.
***
I throw the bronze shiny comb away. It’s useless. Doesn’t even make as a good suicidal tool but my pens and pencils along with my notepad are the perfect ingredients to make the perfect suicidal note. Not that my brain can think of something good. I haven’t eaten ever since Camilla turned into that… that… thing. It’s as though she is dead to me now. My stomach grumbles.
“You can’t starve yourself to death.” Cathy had said the day before. “Trust me. I tried. A minute later and I was back to eating potato chips.”
I don’t think that really counts as starving yourself to death if all you do is stop eating for a minute. If that’s the longest Cathy has gone how come she was as frail as braille?
***
I think I got Cathy’s words all wrong. It’s a brain tweezer. Don’t think that’s a thing though.
***
I decide that I should eat. Maybe just a little though. But as soon as I set my eyes on that creme brulee I knew a little wasn’t gonna happen. I savor every bite of the delicious sweet. The first thing I’ve had that was sweet ever since the invasion of the future. I see window pains slick and clean. Everything around me is ineffable. Camilla would love this. Then reality hits me. I am not where I think I am. I am not in a safe place and Camilla is not Camilla. Well she is but she’s not who she used to be. She’s a different person now. Not even a person to be exact.
***
Now that I think about it I didn’t give Camilla up. I just got something out of it. I mean even if I said no Cathy would still take control over Camilla. I think. If I’m wrong… what have I done?
***
I stare at my reflection off the metallic cells. My hair is shiny and silky and not to mention straight. What’s the whole point of having nice hair anyway. It keeps you off track. So I asked Cathy for something. For scissors. And that’s exactly what I got.
***
Cathy knows me better than a lot of people. She got me hi-tech scissors that cannot pierce human tissue along with bone but can get rid of things more fragile. Trust me I tried sticking the blade a bit through my finger tip. I was just experimenting. Nothing happened but a little ticklish feeling. On to work, I think. I take a lock of my hair and clutch it in my fist. I then take the scissors and chop it off. I do that to every lock until all I have left of my hair is the sum up to my neck. I peer down on the floor. Ringlets of my dirty blonde hair circle around me like a queen. Short hair was trending after all in the future’s style.
