To Grow

Chapter 13: Chapter 11


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The faceless two-legs didn't return anymore after they had sucked some of my blood with that stinger. The room continued to stay bright white, and the food was continuously delivered. I didn't like this at all. The lack of the sun, moon, and stars unsettled me. The lack of the bubbling water, the distant calls, and the motion of the swaying branches put me at edge. There was no way they can take away all sound. I need to get out of here. I need to get out of here. I do not belong here. I need to return to my home and den.

Then, at one point, a faceless two-leg walked in, dropped a rectangular white thing in front of me, and left. 

What am I supposed to do? 

I kicked it. Then punched it. Scratched it. Everything I did only hurt myself. The white thing didn't move nor make a single sound. 

I moved back into my corner, unused to my slow healing speed and the pain. Suddenly, I heard a whirring sound. I looked toward the source, and saw that the white thing had followed me. Was it alive after all?

I tried growling at it, but after the sparse meals I've had, I just couldn't put enough strength into it. 

Something on the white thing flipped, and a black rectangular shiny surface was now shown to me. A two-leg suddenly showed up on it, and started saying one phrase, "A is for Apple."

How did that two-leg fit in there? Is she that small? Or is it a he? Without their scent, I can't figure out if the two-leg on the screen was female or male. Maybe it is both? Like some trees and bushes? 

I tried to ignore the white thing with the two-leg inside, but it just kept repeating the sound. "A is for Apple. A is for Apple. A is for Apple. A is for Apple. A is for ..." 

What did it want me to do?! 

"A-a is for Apple." I growled back at it. Maybe that will make it stop saying the same sounds? Then, it said another series of sounds.

"B is for Banana. B is for Banana. B is for Banana. B is for ..." 

"B is for banannana," I tried.

"B is for banana. B is for Banana. B is for ..."

"B is for Bana...na."

"C is for Cat. C is for..."

The process repeated until I got to 'Z is for Zebra.' Then it began teaching me how the letters sound. And which letters go together. And how different combinations will make different letters sound different. And how the 'gh' in 'though' is silent, it's pronounced 'g' in 'ghost'. 

The white thing continued to teach me new words. And letters. Vocabulary. Proper grammar. I have no idea how long the time has passed, but I've eaten maybe...by estimate... 70 meals? 80? The white thing had recently been teaching me how to count. I don't think I've been sleeping at all since I got here, and the white faceless two-legs haven't entered my cell yet. I've been just excreting in the farthest corner away from my corner. Excreting. Sounds so fancy. Haha.

The white thing, which I have learned is called a Teaching Assistant, and the black shiny surface is called a screen. I have also learned that no, the tiny two-leg did not actually fit in there. It -no, she- was actually just a pre-recorded projection, using something called electricity to power the screen, and shoots something called electrons onto the back of the screen. Or something like that.

The Teaching Assistant has been holding conversations with me. We have been discussing the weather. Or at least what the weather would be if I was out of this fucking cell. It also taught me swear words. And how to not use them. But I find them useful in expressing my discontentment towards my treatment, which I have learned is inhumane. I have also learned that learning the things I know now is only detrimental to the people keeping me in here. I am also known as being -instead of a homo sapien- a homo potentia. I think whomever had named the slightly mutated people that way had been lazy. 

Two-legs are actually called humans, people, homo sapiens, and others. The forms I have been shifting into -or at least had been- were the forms of a mutated lynx and mutated wolf. I had been living in the Fingard forest, known for where the humans from past had just driven all the mutated animals from the rest of the area into the vast forest, spanning thousands of miles.

But at one point, the Teaching Assistant stopped teaching, and laid dormant, the screen black.

I want to get out. 

"Wall, isn't it so exciting to finally talk to each other?" I asked the wall conversationally. I had been informed by the Teaching Assistant that no, walls can't talk, but how would humans know? After all, they had no idea that the golden toad -which they thought extinct- had actually been living in the Fingard forest, just bigger. And poisonous. And has hydrokinesis. I had actually seen a few of them before, when I had strayed too near the inner section of the forest.

"Perhaps I should call you Mr. Wall?" I asked politely to Mr. Wall.

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"And hello to you too, Mrs. Wall. How're your kids?" 

"Oh? And what about little Wallette?"

"Hm. I can emphasize." 

"Mhm, mhm."

The slot opened in my cell, and a tray of food was pushed in. I immediately ate everything on the tray, and finally stopped when all the crumbs had been eaten, unsatisfied. 

I looked down at my cuffs. If I could take them off, I could try and get my claws under the slot and into the tiny gap. Then I could pry it open, and with a lot of time and concentration, I can shift into a bee, and fly out. 

They were probably watching me, though. They probably always were.

I tried to take off the cuff, my hands scrabbling for purchase on the smooth and shiny surface of it. If might've shifted slightly, but was stuck again on my wrist bone. I banged my cuff against the wall, but only succeeded in hurting myself. 

I wanted the cuff off. I wanted it off. I wanted it OFF.

I hit my cuff harder and harder against the hard wall. My fingers were bleeding now. I think one bone might be broken. But I wanted it off, and nothing can stop me from TAKING IT OFF. 

They should've made this padded like they do sometimes at the asylum. 

I hit my hand repeatedly, and then began scratching the skin on my hand away. Perhaps this way, I can make my hand thinner, so that the cuff would slide off perfectly?

I began scratching manically at my wrist and hand, using my long and ragged nails to do so, taking off chunks of flesh if I was lucky. I had washed my nails before doing it, so it wouldn't be bringing in germs and such to infect my wound.

Laughter echoed around the room, and at some point, I noticed that it was coming from me. I could see the barest hint of bone now, though the blood was annoying, since it blocked my sight.

Between scratches, I would tug the cuff down my wrist, to see if it was moving. And it moved! Just a tiny bit, yes, but that means my plan worked! I took breaks sometimes, when I got tired from scratching, and talk to Mr. and Mrs. Wall. 

Then, the cuff slid down my hand, and off it! I grinned widely (at least, I think I grinned).

Suddenly, the door banged open, and three men in army fatigues. 

"Sir, there is a girl in the room!" the one in the middle yelled to something. Probably a transmitter of some sort.

I stopped my scratching, surprised that they had entered my room.

"The girl is wearing banned power dampeners, type 37. There are two on her ankles, and one on her right wrist. The one on her left wrist has been removed by the girl through- through mutilating herself."

The room grew quiet as the man in the middle listened to his earpiece.

Abruptly, he dropped his big, heavy gun, and drew a smaller and more compact one, similar to the one the teacher had drawn. I stood up, adn backed away uneasily from him. I tried shifting, but only managed to shift that one hand. I can't be hit, can't be hit, can't be hit or terrible things will happen and I will be locked away from my trees and Mr. and Mrs. Wall and I need-

Everything turned black.

 

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