Status: Complete. I'm going to sit on this for a few months and edit it after that.
The Experiment Revolution
Day 2
Dear Blue Notebook,
Today the man brought me to his office and asked if I knew what I looked like and I didn’t.
I looked in the full length mirror he had in the corner of his office. My light brown hair was in a frazzled mess and my brown eyes drooped. For some reason my face had dirt smeared across it. My clothes (a red hockey jersey with the head of a Native American chief on it and jeans) were tattered. The collar of my jersey was torn and had green spots from grass stains. My jeans had holes; two were on my thighs and about five were either on my knees or somewhere near them. The bottom half of the right leg had been torn off, revealing the many scratches and bruises my skin had somehow obtained. My skin was ghostly and I looked like I hadn’t eaten in a few days.
When I sat back down again, the man informed me I was going to change both physically and mentally. I asked how, but his answer was, “You just will”. I asked for information about the Experiment Revolution since I knew basically nothing. His response to that was, “I’ll tell you later”. He didn’t have a response when I asked how I got there, and he didn’t have one when I asked if he ever found an identification card that belonged to me. When I asked why I was in his office, he said I ask too many questions.
I asked what his name is and he said Dr. Christopher Abbott.
Our meeting was over within minutes because apparently he has “much to do”. Now I’m back in my cage which can be located in a moldy, dark room in the basement. He gave me a dog dish full of watered down soup and a miniature bottle of water. He also gave me a squeaky toy so I won’t “get bored”.
Dr. Abbot’s thoughtful in his own way, I guess.
Today the man brought me to his office and asked if I knew what I looked like and I didn’t.
I looked in the full length mirror he had in the corner of his office. My light brown hair was in a frazzled mess and my brown eyes drooped. For some reason my face had dirt smeared across it. My clothes (a red hockey jersey with the head of a Native American chief on it and jeans) were tattered. The collar of my jersey was torn and had green spots from grass stains. My jeans had holes; two were on my thighs and about five were either on my knees or somewhere near them. The bottom half of the right leg had been torn off, revealing the many scratches and bruises my skin had somehow obtained. My skin was ghostly and I looked like I hadn’t eaten in a few days.
When I sat back down again, the man informed me I was going to change both physically and mentally. I asked how, but his answer was, “You just will”. I asked for information about the Experiment Revolution since I knew basically nothing. His response to that was, “I’ll tell you later”. He didn’t have a response when I asked how I got there, and he didn’t have one when I asked if he ever found an identification card that belonged to me. When I asked why I was in his office, he said I ask too many questions.
I asked what his name is and he said Dr. Christopher Abbott.
Our meeting was over within minutes because apparently he has “much to do”. Now I’m back in my cage which can be located in a moldy, dark room in the basement. He gave me a dog dish full of watered down soup and a miniature bottle of water. He also gave me a squeaky toy so I won’t “get bored”.
Dr. Abbot’s thoughtful in his own way, I guess.