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2037 | 2057
【its an emotional one.】
"The air in the house felt depressing. Zinnia, perched on the bottom stair, could sense it. Mom and Dad were in the living room, their voices hushed, their faces trying to hide something.
She peeked around the corner. Mom was sitting on the couch, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Dad was standing by the window, his back to her, his shoulders slumped. They weren't arguing, but they weren't talking either, not really. It was more like they were sharing a silence... was it some weird holiday?
Zinnia wanted to ask what was wrong, but something in their expressions held her back. She'd learned that sometimes, adults had their own quiet sorrows, things they couldn't explain to a six-year-old.
Well, in her version, they were fighting and she didn't want to get involved.
'No, I'm fine,' they would say, then scan the surroundings for a distraction. 'Hey, could you run to the next room and get my phone?'
The next morning, it was a Saturday. Dad was gone. Mom didn't say where he'd gone, just that he had gone to work. Zinnia tried to play with her toys, tried to watch her favorite cartoons, but the feeling of unease lingered. Mom was quiet, distant, her eyes filled with a sadness that wouldn't go away.
The rest of the day was boring. There was nothing to do besides eat, play and watch TV. But that night was interesting, to say the least. It was just before dinner when the interesting part happened.
"Mom," she tried, pulling at her mother's long sleeve. "You want to watch a movie with me?"
"No, sorry... I have a lot of work."
Zinnia's brown eyes held a quiet plea, staring into her mother's identical eyes. "But you're sick."
"Zin, I'm not sick."
The aspiring young doctor inside begged to differ. "Your eyes look small. You always know when I'm sick because my eyes turn small."
Before Cadence could come up with a reply, she got a call, announced by her ringtone from the other side of the house.
The perfect distraction for Zinnia to run off and take the call. It was from her dad. She knew the drill - green means yes and red means no.
She clicked 'yes' - she wanted to talk to her dad. But before she could even open her mouth, she was greeted to a series of nonsensical screams from the hyperventilating man behind the line.
"Cadence -- lab, quick- hospital bag!"
"Daddy, are you being attacked!! I'll call the police."
Dad's breaths slowed down and he slowly began forming a full, grammatically correct sentence. "Give the phone to your mother."
The next thing she knew, her mother was rushing out of the house with a big bag full of diapers and bottles the likes of which she being a big girl didn't need. All she heard last was, 'dinner's in the living room'.
Zinnia watched her mother disappear into the night, the taillights of the car fading into the darkness. A strange mix of confusion and worry swirled within her. What was happening? Why was Dad screaming? And why did Mom need diapers and bottles?
She went back inside, the house feeling empty and quiet. The silence was different now, not heavy, but hollow, like a room where the furniture had been removed.
Finally, she went to her room with her food, the familiar comfort of her stuffed animals offering little solace. She curled up in bed, the unanswered questions swirling in her mind, until sleep claimed her.18Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK4ihApKWE9
The next morning, the house was different. The air was lighter, filled with a soft, almost giddy energy. Zinnia woke to the sound of her parents' voices, a sound she hadn't heard in what felt like forever. They were in the living room, their voices filled with a happiness that seemed almost… exaggerated.
As she approached the living room, she heard her mother’s voice, a high-pitched, almost sing-song tone she rarely used. Not since she announced her second pregnancy to Lead and Zinnia.
“Isn’t she just perfect, Lead?” Cadence cooed.
“She’s everything we ever wanted,” Lead replied, his voice thick with emotion.
Zinnia peeked around the corner. Her parents were sitting on the couch, their faces flushed with joy. In Cadence’s arms was a tiny baby, wrapped in a soft, pink blanket.
"You bought a new doll?" she blurted out. "No thanks, I just got a new one for my birthday, last month."
Cadence just looked at her, then laughed softly. "No, she's a real, human baby."
"Her name is Aura." Lead added.
Zinnia's brow furrowed. "Aura?" she asked, her voice small. "Where did she come from?"
Her parents looked at her, their smiles widening. "She's your new baby sister, Zinnia," Cadence said, her voice filled with a strange, almost feverish excitement. "She's always been meant to be with us."
Lead nodded, his eyes shining. "She's a miracle, Zinnia. A gift."
Zinnia looked at the baby, then back at her parents. Their smiles were bright, almost too bright, their eyes filled with a strange, almost desperate happiness. It was as if they were trying to convince themselves of something.
"But… what happened?" Zinnia asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Where did you go last night?"
Cadence's smile faltered for a moment, then returned, even brighter than before. "It doesn't matter, darling," she said, her voice soothing. "What matters is that Aura is here now. And we're all going to be so happy."
Lead nodded, his gaze fixed on the baby. "We're a family again," he said, his voice filled with a strange, almost unsettling conviction.
At the time, Zinnia was unbothered. As far as that girl was concerned, she just got herself a new doll to pamper. Only... she's not a real doll. A fake doll. That's weird.
Twenty years later, and I'm sitting here, in this… room, trying to piece together the fragments of a life that feels like it was built on a foundation of lies. "We're a family again," Dad said. And now, I can't help but wonder… am I just a replacement? A substitute for the child they lost?
It would have made sense, wouldn't it? To just adopt any child. But no. They chose her. A clone of his psychotic boss. I'm not their kid. I'm… Aurelia Oxide's kid. But I'm not her kid either. I'm her artificially created clone. And that, Doctor, is a thought I've been wrestling with for two decades.
The science camp, the escape, the constant feeling of being watched… it's all just a twisted game, isn't it? A game orchestrated by my father, by Aurelia, by… who knows who else. And now, I'm here, talking to you.
He forced me to meet you. "It'll be good for you," he said. "You need to talk about your feelings." My feelings. Ha. As if I'm some broken toy that needs to be fixed. A broken, fake doll. As if my feelings are anything more than data points in some grand, twisted experiment.
My mom's cup of tea. Not my mom. I mean, my 'mom' - Dr. Oxide.
This is all just business to you, isn't it? He's paying you. To listen to my ramblings, to analyze my thoughts, to categorize my trauma. To make sure I don't go off the rails, I suppose. To ensure I'm still a useful asset to the government.
I look around this sterile room. The plush chair, the carefully curated artwork, the soft, soothing music playing in the background. It's all designed to make me feel comfortable, to make me open up. But I'm not fooled. I'm not a child anymore. I know how the game is played.
And the truth is, I don't care. I don't care about my feelings. I don't care about their agenda. I don't even care about myself. I'm just… tired. Tired of the lies, tired of the manipulation, tired of being a pawn in someone else's game.
So, Doctor, ask me your questions. Analyze my responses. Write your reports. I'll play along. I'll give you what you want. Because in the end, it doesn't matter. None of it matters. We're all just puppets, dancing to a tune we don't understand, controlled by strings we can't see. And I, for one, am ready to cut those strings. Or watch them burn."
ns 15.158.61.38da2
