Coeur

From the blackness of her position she opened her eyes.  She couldn’t see anything to know that she had opened her eyes but she knew she had done so because of the effort it took her to do so.  Blackness swam all around her.  The area she was in contained nothing, no sound, no light nothing.  She was in a “think tank” as her mind knew it was called.  She was aware of nothing around her but her mind functioned like a well oiled machine.  She could almost hear the audible clicking of her brains gears as she thought with rapid fire about many things all at once.  1

She wondered if the shower was coming soon.  Occasionally she would be granted an electric shower.  She called it that in her mind because following a small sigh of the water as it parted to allow an instrument in…the water would tingle and she would not be in control of her body as it jerked and spasmed in the darkness.  During her showers, she kept her eyes closed and waited for it to end, which, was unfortunately not for a long time.  Even as much as she was aware that she hated those showers, she realized that not only were they keeping her muscles from atrophying, but also she was aware that she was being fed knowledge.  After her shower was a glorious time full of mental images of knowledge.  That knowledge contained volumes of books, faint musical strains of tunes she had never heard but knew as if she composed them, and exotic places she had never seen that came to her as if she had been there standing in the sunlight she never saw while in the “tank”.  2

The only constant besides the darkened interior was the apparatus that fed her oxygen.  It made no noise but she was aware of it as it extended into her nose feeding her life giving oxygen.  The mask that contained it covered only a small area of her face but it was enough to be the only tangible in this watery cell.  3

In subtle tones the mellow voice came to her in her mind.  Even as she couldn’t see him, she still jerked her head first to the right and to the left to see if he would just once reveal his face.  She called him “father”, though she had no idea of her birth.  She became aware merely yesterday, it seemed.  Though if you were to ask father he never answered but said she was always aware.  For him, she always existed.  She was his perfection, the apple of his eye, and his love.4

“I love you 8” the voice floated off her mind caressing her loneliness even as it made her painfully aware that there had been a previous 7 before her.  This loneliness however, was not a companion to her at all times... only when the voice came did she sense the pangs of her heart desiring the elusive companionship and freedom from her cell.5

Closing her eyes she accepted the thought and the subsequent telepathic image of a hug he sent.6

“And I love you father” she sent back to him.7

“You know I don’t like when you call me father” his tone was only mildly irritated, and she hated that she had caused it… 8

“I’m sorry father” 9

She had no sense of social etiquette, only what would be programmed right and wrong.  There was no gray for her, only the black and white of programmed choice.  And yet, in some small measure she had begun to develop feelings.  These she kept secret from father.  Her fear irrational as it may seem was tempered with the knowledge that she was an experiment.  Experiments have an end, and she hoped that hers would come with freedom into the light she dreamed of.  But if she showed emotion she knew her end would come with an electric shower, which would cause her heart to fail. 10

“What would you like me to call you?” she asked in her monotone telepathic voice11

His answer was swift “Creator… you may call me creator”.  12

Click, click the gears shifted again in her brain.  This argument they have had many times and she knew her next response.13

“Would you not then be call Father if you are the creator? She asked 14

“I would be called Father if you had been created in love” he stated, but he continued “and while I love you, you were not created in the pairing of two in love.  You were created from the love of perfection”15

Monetarily sad as this discussion always made her, she still responded back with her programmed response16

“I understand creator, I will not slip again”17

“Then you will be fed today, and I will use your mind later...” He sent her an image of a hug again as he withdrew from her mind, thinking his use of her mind would make her feel loved as his nature would make creator think.  She hated when he used her mind, but she was his creation and would do his bidding even if it meant he had her be his eyes and spy on the victims he would take as well.18

She knew now the shower would begin.  Closing her eyes again she thought of the landscape image in Italy that she had been fed earlier.  As the soft sigh of the water parting began, she hurriedly placed her presence in the scene, preferring to walk the brick walkways and run her hands through the ivy that covered the walls of the sunset ridge, then feel the electricity coursing through her reminding her of the fact that she was just… an experiment.19

(End Chapter 1)20