I woke up early in the morning. In front of me was the vast expanse of London and I wanted to enjoy the peace. I was sitting on the edge of the Ben Clock Tower. It was the first time that I was able to see London, so I couldn’t help but want to be everywhere all at once. This was a rare moment where I was able to look outside.

 

The skies were still a pale dismal blue, and the streets were still empty. It hasn’t been long since the sun rose. 

 

The emptiness of the morning felt a bit lonely. But that was alright. My feet dangled in the air, the wind blowing them too and fro. I was floating above everything, up in the skies with the clouds. I felt like I was larger than the streets below me. I stood above everything. I felt powerful. Nobody could touch me up here. Nobody knew I was here. 

 

I was like a bird.

 

I could play the role of an observer without concern. I spied at the families walking on the street. I regarded them as they went about their lives. How envious.

 

It was peaceful moments like this, that I could almost imagine myself escaping. Escape from here, go into the world on my own. Never return to the lab where Abeni was waiting. But I knew that I would be killed if I tried. Honor was everything to the Memoir. And I was a pawn. An obedient one. They had no need for disobedience. I turned my head away from the streets and peered into my reflection on the glass ornament on the pillar. My blue eyes peered back at me. My face was a bit haggard. Putting on a small saccharine smile, I stood up and headed to the stairs. 

 

It was the first time in a while that I could really stop and process what was going on. 

 

But my thoughts kept running in circles, without a tangible ending. I had to pull myself away. 

As per usual, I was strapped into the chair. It was meaningless. I had grown accustomed to the experiments but the researchers were particular about it. 

 

Their stone cold eyes took glances at my direction. The dark brunette one smiled at me as she went about the preparation. Her movements were as gentle as usual. Even though her gaze said otherwise. 

 

They weren’t particularly interested in people. Not that I was a human to them. I was an object to fulfill their thirst for knowledge. 

 

I heard the door creak. I was in a room of white walls. The door blended with the rest of my background as a figure slipped through the entrance. 

 

I could hear the clicking of heels. The sound approached me from my back. I couldn’t see them, but my heart filled with dread. I knew who it was. 

 

It was someone I hated. But someone I couldn’t help but fear. I didn’t know when I started gritting my teeth but I did my best to stop.

They were in front of me now. I tried to keep my face calm but I couldn’t control my shaking pupils. My vision was hazy but I kept  my eyes open as I peaked at my visitor.

 

Abeni’s hair was a pure silver color that blended with the room around us. Her eyes were the same color. Her skin was bleach white, and she had a lighthearted smile on her face. If it wasn’t for the obsessive gaze I might’ve mistaken her for someone who was pure and youthful. But I knew that inside her delicate exterior was a psychopathic bitch who lived for too long. She brushed her hand across my shoulder. It tickled my collarbone and caused me to shiver.

 

“Did you miss me? Pika.”

 

She had the same grating tone as usual. She sounded as though we were close, as if she genuinely cared about what I’d say.

 

I responded with a light smile and desperately kept my face neutral. My face would’ve contorted in disgust. Or admittedly fear if I didn’t.

 

“I did. I missed your experiments, Abeni.”

 

I did not. But I knew better than to respond as I did the first time Abeni asked.

 

Abeni clapped her hands together lovingly. Her head was tilted to the side as she fiddled with her blood red lips.

“I did too! Pika, let's have a lot of fun today. We’ll be researching the effect of your visionary senses on mate tracking and bond formation. As continued from last time. This time though, it’ll be your meibomian gland secretions that we’ll be analyzing. Once again I hope you’ll give beautiful results.”

She looked to her right where an assistant stood.

 

 Anne, give me my files on patient 5671. Oh, and a blindfold too!”

 

Once again she drew out the clipboard and looked over the data. She could’ve sat down in comfort outside the walls. But she stood in front of me. Trying to squeeze a reaction from me. Getting me to pay attention to her. As her experiment. 

 

I squeezed out a dry response that incited her to widen her smile. My head was ringing. Abeni was hasty. She wouldn’t talk for long before she began. 

 

My throat was dry. I felt the measly grains of hatred that I answered to die down as I continued acting in front of her. It was there. But I planned on keeping that can of worms shut for as long as I could afford to.

 

“Alrighty. It seems like I’m done here. Anne, tell Jakobe that patient 5671 will be managed ‘fairly’ under his jurisdiction.”

 

My pleasantries paid off. I sighed in relief but was careful not to let it show.

“I’ll be looking forward to seeing you next time.”

 

Another lie I was willing to make.

 

“Pika, remember to be extra kind to Ilari, alright? See you around!”

 

She turned around and went around my back. Her assistants flocked to her side and soon disappeared from my vision.

I was a bit confused. Ilari was visiting today, but I wasn’t sure what relationship he had with Abeni. I couldn’t make sense of it so I dismissed it.

 

I felt the tension leave my shoulders. I didn’t know it was there until she left. 

 

I successfully evaded her experiment again. I didn’t want to relive those memories. I was desperate.

 

I didn’t know how long I could put it off. But that was okay. I was okay. It wouldn’t happen. At least for a while. As long as Abeni was confident I was obedient. That I was willing to bend to her words. I heard the familiar sound of the sound system. A monotone voice cleared its throat before it succinctly made its announcements. 

 

“Patient 5671. Prepare yourself now.”

 

Patient 5671. It was like I was getting treatment. I smiled bitterly at the irony.

 

A black haired researcher with a cold gaze approached me. I felt the familiar sting of a needle in my arm.

Another researcher approached. They had a scalpel in their hands, and a variety of other medical tools on a portable cart they dragged with them. I saw the sheen of light pass through on the delicate blade. It was headed towards my eyes. 

 

Their hands covered in gloves drew closer to my face. I felt a familiar sense of tiredness and numbness as I resigned myself to my fate. 

I was tired of fighting.