The Girl with Ginger Hair

Every day is the same.

The same blaring lights. The same cold tile floors. The same screams that pierce through the walls.

Drystan almost felt bad for complaining about his repetitive and dull schedule. It could be worse for all he knew. He wasn't being cut open and having his organs taken out.

At least, that was what it sounded like to Drystan. Fortunately, he had never actually seen these horrifying operations take place. But the noises always painted a grotesque picture in his mind.

He had spent the past thirty minutes lying on top of his bedsheets, staring at the ceiling while he waited for his dinner to arrive.

There wasn't much to do between testing sections in this small bedroom of his. They have given him a Rubik's cube to solve, and while he can probably solve it easily if he tries, he doesn't want to give them the satisfaction of getting any more data about how high his IQ is or how his brain works.

'It seems like they're not only after my eyes here. Perhaps, this also why they haven't sold me off yet. But then again, since they're already keeping me captive, they might as well make use of me as much as they want to.'

Drystan had lived out the past month in a simple white room.

There's a bed pushed against the wall, a bathroom, and a study table. Keeping him in is a sliding metal door that can only be opened using a special code that he is unaware of. Every few hours, someone would punch in the numbers and lead him to a room where he would be hooked up to some sort of machine.

'It wasn't fun, but I much rather would have them study me by giving me math problems than slicing my head open and taking a look at my brain.'

The metal door let out a high-toned beep as it slid open.

Drystan turns to see who stepped in. To his surprise, instead of one of the scientists or the guards, it was the girl with ginger hair that he had once seen in the hall before. Now that he's looking at her closely, she really does seem like a thirteen-year-old - perhaps, a bit younger.

She's wearing a red plaid skirt that matches the tie that's adorning her black button-down shirt. On top of that shirt is a rather formal-looking white blazer.

She quietly walks over to the table where he eats and sets down his tray. That's when she meets his gaze. Her eyes widen in awe and surprise as soon as they lay on his.

Drystan didn't move from his bed nor say anything.

'I guess she's not going to leave until I come eat.'

He got up and began eating. It was the same dinner as every other night - a slice of bread, some dry flavorless chicken, and a cup of water. Also, a paper cup filled with pills. That's the one thing that switched up from day to day.

Some days there were no pills in the cup, some days there were twenty. Some days there were white chalky ones, some days there were in all different colors.

'Just what hell are they making me swallow this whole time?'

Drystan looks up from his plate.

She is still there, staring at him. It makes his insides recoil. Her presence is distracting, her attention unsettling.

'What does she want from me? Is she waiting until I finish eating so she can take me out to be experimented again?'

Though Drystan curses the monotony, he knows that if things change, they will only be for the worse. So, he is already fine with sitting in this tiny room, taking tests everyday, and swallowing mysterious pills instead of becoming just another scream in the night.

"You're 91408, right?"

It felt weird to be addressed like that instead of his actual name. It just proved to him that he wasn't a person - but another lab rat to be tested on. As much as he wanted to protest and say that he's not a string of numbers, he knew it wouldn't be worth it.

So, Drystan simply nods instead.

"My dad said you're one of the smartest children we've had here in years. Heck, even smarter than a lot of the adults here."

Silence falls between them.

While any ordinary boys would have blushed at the prospect of such a pretty girl calling them smart, they both knew that it was far from a compliment. Her telling him 'You're smart' basically translates to 'You'll be sold off to a rich foreigner at some fancy dinner party'.

She soon realized that the longer she stayed, the more awkward she made things. With that, she walks away and takes her leave. Through the corner of her eyes, she saw him reaching for the paper cup to grab a few pills.

"You're not really going to drink those, are you?" she asked as she turned to look back at him from the metal door.

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked back dryly.

"You do know those pills aren't to help your weak bones or whatever bullshit of an excuse that they gave you for taking them, right?"

"Well, obviously. I'm not dumb. But it's not like I really have much of a choice."

She looks at Drystan sadly. It seems like she's feeling sorry for him. She probably thinks he's pitiful.

'What gave her the right to look at me like that? As if it wasn't her fault that I had to take these pills in the first place - or her father's fault. Whatever. It didn't matter. It still feels hypocritical to me.'

Drystan scowls.

Yet he kept his thoughts to himself. Changing the subject, he then goes to ask, "Why are you even here in the first place?"

"Since I was bored, I offered to deliver your food. I don't usually get to talk to any of the... patients. So, I figured I would drop by and say hi to you..." she answered before she strolled over to his table and held out her hand for him to shake.

"My name is Ercilia, by the way. My parents are part of the Viatrix clan."