Jersey Devil Press Issue Thirteen, October 2010

‚I remember the other kids,‛ I said. ‚That one little boy who died soon after we got to the facility. His dad came to see him, and he sneered at him, like he was mad that he hadn’t been stronger.

When we asked him why he wasn’t crying, the dad said something like, why grieve for a test-tube baby?‛ After a pause, I added: ‚I don’t dream, Utah. I just remember.‛ ‚I don’t see the difference.‛ ‚You wouldn’t,‛ I said quietly. ‚I wish I were you.‛ ‚What do you mean?‛ Utah placed her hand on my chest.

Pushing her away, I said, ‚It’s as if you were never starved.

Bad stuff happened to us, Utah! And when we thought we’d be safe, we were hurt even more. Even after we left the facility< Look at us. We’re like rats avoiding the exterminator.‛ ‚It wasn’t that bad. Some of us were getting stronger.‛ ‚And those were the ones who stopped being human. Don’t you remember how their skin smelled? As if it was burning. And what did they do? They sat in a corner eating uncooked rice ’til they died.‛ The drugs they’d given us had been designed to make us stronger; after each treatment, our abilities were supposed to be enhanced. Some of us became faster, or could see better in the dark. Others rejected the drug every time, till their bodies slowly decayed. Regardless of the results we watched all of them slowly burn from the inside, knowing we couldn’t help them. ‚We didn’t have to look over our shoulders all the time.‛ ‚Why look over your shoulder when you know what’s going to happen—when you’re only gonna get hurt?‛ ‚We should go back and turn ourselves in,‛ she insisted. ‚Are you insane? Anyway, if you liked it so much, why did you even leave?‛ ‚Because all of you wanted to go, and I didn’t want to be left behind.‛ I kicked the sheets aside and got up.

October 2010 - 43