- 3.
When I saw those comments, I held my
breath.
I couldn’t understand why my mom treated us
so differently, when we were both her kids.
She’d decided I was just plain evil after that
first test.
<
She thought I wasn’t worth saving.
So she cut off the monthly payments to my
foster parents, leaving me high and dry.
They forced me into marriage with some
wife–beating hillbilly during my senior year.
I still remember it was my birthday.
The local radio station was playing my mom’s
birthday message to my sister.
She was celebrating my sister’s coming–of-
age.
She even sang “Happy Birthday” in like, ten
different languages on every radio station in
the world.
<
And I was tied up with rope, my head
covered, being dragged off to marry some
guy who’d already killed one wife.
I could still hear her voice in my head, “Happy
birthday, Mommy loves you, sweetheart…”
My heart ached.
I wanted to run to the city and scream at that
cold–hearted woman.
But then I saw a bunch of people show up at
the bus station.
They were wearing lab coats with the
Goldwyn Lab logo.
They were closing in, blocking my way to the
bus.
L
[Is she gonna run? She’s been staring at those bus schedules for a while now.]
[No way she’s getting anywhere. The lab guys’ll drag her back.]
I looked down, and walked back home,
without expression.
I couldn’t run.
At least not yet, not unprepared.
One day, I’d get my freedom.
