Friday, September 16, 2011

Let's just call it The Experiment for now

I got inspiration from the movie Limitless (I watched it for the first time today).  Tell me what you think.



Desperate.  Quite desperate.  I’ve never know such desperation such as this.  I’ve got to get out of here.  Chuck some clothes into a bag and split.  It’s too dangerous.  Things have made this too dangerous.  I’ve made this too dangerous.  I need to get out.  I need to get gone.

Where the hell am I?

I’m in the street.  Running.  Someone’s following, but I can’t look back.  Looking back only gives him the advantage.  The second wave of adrenaline hits.

I’m flying.  Really flying.  How did I get up here?  My body feels light.  Lighter than air.  I could fly to the moon if I wanted.  I could go anywhere.  Paris.  That’s where I need to go.  Not want, but I need to go there.  He’s there.  Waiting for me.  He’s been waiting a long time.  I don’t know if he will wait much longer.

Now, I can feel gravity coming back.  It’s pulling me down to Earth.  Pulling to the ground.  I let it come.  Slowly because I don’t want to burn up in the entry.  I imagine fading into the clouds, disappearing with the wind.  My hands are gone, and I can feel the moisture of the clouds as they pass through me.  I give the world an impish grin.  I’m completely invisible and penetrable.  The world can’t see me, but I can see it.  I can see everything.

Superman’s got nothing on me.

I glide through the last wall of thick, puffy clouds and see the lights of London sparkle like old glitter on black paper, dazzling but dull to the eyes.  I was lucky to be this close.  Maybe, I should stop and take a break.  My stomach started complaining an hour ago.  No, I can’t.  He’s waiting.  For me.  I start falling.  My resistance is fading.  Dark shadows border my vision.  He will have to wait for just a little longer.  He wouldn’t want me to die.  He would be sad if I died.  He’d tell me to land, to eat.  I can’t die.  I gather up the remainder of my reserves and slow my fall.  The lights are getting bigger and brighter.  I tilt to the left to avoid a building and drop the last fifty feet or so into some rose bushes.  My visibility comes back, and I can feel the pain of the thorns imbedding into my skin.  I’m quite glad I decided to wear sunglasses.  This could have easily blinded me.  I don’t have time to lose my vision today.  It would only inconvenience me.

The pain begins to subside, and I watch the wounds gradually heal, leaving tiny holes in my clothes.  I scowl.  I had grown to like this light blue shirt.  It was snug.  It didn’t drape or flutter in the wind.  I could slip away without getting snagged.  This light blue shirt was like a second skin.  Maybe I could find another one and a pair of jeans.  The thorns are caught within the seams, scratching up and down my legs.  I stumble out of the bushes, brushing the loose thorns off my ruined shirt.  Tiny specks of red make the shirt and my arms seem polka dotted.  An old homeless man across the cracking sidewalk looks my way.  His eyes are glassy with a thick layer of film.  I breathe a sigh of relief.  Blindness has its advantages.  The man reaches out with one hand, groping the air.  I know his helplessness.  I was blind once.  One of those drugs they gave me made me blind.  I walk over to the man and grasp his hand.  He gasps as the film in his eyes recedes.  I merge into the wind and leave the man wondering in awe.  I can’t take it away forever, but maybe he can find himself before it comes back.  Maybe he will appreciate a second chance.  Or maybe he’ll be like some of the others and try to find me.  Try to make me cure the problem, the disease, every time it comes back.  I can’t take it away, not that I would want to.  People have no gratitude for a second life.

I didn’t even have a first chance.  They took him away and dragged me into a black van.  He kept saying he was sorry, screaming as they plunged the first needle in my neck.  My adrenaline was pumping, racing the filthy concoction through my veins.  Penetrating the very barriers of my cells.  The drug was changing me.  I could feel it morphing my DNA, changing it.  I gasped like that homeless man, at first.  Then blood curdling screams burned in my throat.  The searing pain felt like white lightning attacking every particle of my being.  I wanted to move, but even the slightest twitch sent an eruption of flame that was beyond imagination.  Pain I never thought possible to bare.  Pain that slowly, inched its way behind my eyes and swallowed my vision in a veil of white.  I wanted to claw them out.  Anything to make the pain go away.  I could hear him desperately shouting, telling them to stop, to let me go.  They wanted him to see me suffer.  The last thing I heard was a door slam, and a car roaring to life before I blacked out.

But, I am no longer just some naïve little girl.  Sometimes, I feel barely human.  My heart can barely feel at all unless I think about him, which is always.  He keeps me here, in the moment.  The thought of him has kept me alive.  I would lose myself if he was gone.  But, I can’t think about that.  I’ll become the monster that they want me to be.  I’ll become an emotionless shell of a human, fighting but never feeling.  Tearing cities apart but never tearing up.  But, I refuse.  I can make my own destiny.  I will find him.  I swear on my life.  I know he is out there.  He has to be.  My brother is all I have.  I will find him.  I pull on the new black shirt and jeans that I swiped from some too big, too understaffed store.  The shirt fits tighter to my supermodel body than the other one, and this one is long sleeved.  It doesn’t matter though.  The jeans fit perfectly, which is a first.  Maybe, I should go back.  No, the British police will be arriving soon.  I have to keep going, or the Doc will locate me again.  His spies are everywhere, so I can’t stay long.  My stomach grows, louder.  I look around and spot a vendor who’s distracted by the wailing sirens of the police.  I disappear, just in case, and snatch the two trays of fish and chips from the cart.  It’s not enough, but it will get me closer to Paris.  The food is gone in seconds.  I brush off any remaining crumbs, crack my knuckles, and take off down the road, surpassing speeds even Flash couldn’t reach.  I will find him.  I will find my brother.  I swear on my life.  I will find Collin.

1 comment:

  1. Very well written. (: I hope you decide you further this idea it seems very interesting, indeed. :D

    ReplyDelete

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