They watch me. I can feel the cameras staring at me. I feel uncomfortable and unsettled at the fact that I am being watched, but I know why.


    They know what I am capable of. They are watching to see if I try something. Waiting to see how I will react.


    It has been three days since I woke up. Three days of luxury spent entirely alone. Three days of sensing cameras.


    Today, however, is different. Today they didn''t give me breakfast. Today a strange doctor looking man walked into my room.


    He had a clipboard. I then started to remember how many people with clipboards I have seen in my life.


    He nodded, took off his glasses, and he said, "I am sorry for the inconvenience. We Have tried to make you as comfortable as possible. How is your head?"


    I looked at him in a way to try and ask, ''what do you think kind sure in a lab coat.'' I opened my mouth to speak, but it had seemed that four years in solitary confinement can really do a number on you.


    He nodded as to acknowledge that I couldn''t speak. I kept trying though and eventually was able to stutter out, " It hurts..."


    He walked over to my side and took a look at my head. "Yeah, it looks like it got busted pretty bad. You got stitched up and everything when you got here. They weren''t supposed to hurt you in any way. Jenkins got ...... Anyway, Allen wants to see you. Are you ready?" He asked. I nodded and got out of bed.


    I was in the same itchy outfit that I came with. The doctor shook his head. "You''d better get something else to wear. Here, I will pick you something out." He said disapprovingly. He made his way towards the closet.


    When he came back towards me, I didn''t know what to do. I wanted to scream because it was so short, I wanted to cry because it was so beautiful.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    It was a navy blue dress that went up to about mid-thigh. It did this cute thing where it made a choker out of the sleeves and, it was just so, not me.


    In the end, I didn''t argue. I put the dress on with no complaints because that is the best way to get through the worst. It made me feel uncomfortable. It was too short for my taste.


    The doctor led me to Allen''s office. We stopped outside of a large door that was Beautiful in all the possible ways it could be. It was gold with a Victorian age Ornate carving on the edges around the frame.


    The door opened, and the room inside was just as gorgeous as the door. The room had sculptures from the Renaissance everywhere. Original Devinci paintings hung on the wall. It was gorgeous. But then I look in the center of the room and realize, nothing could be any more beautiful than the boy in the middle of this room.


    He didn''t speak. And I looked into his eyes and noticed how familiar they look. Those blue eyes, that dark brown hair, it hit me then. This is the boy from my past. The boy I loved not because of the way he looked, or the way he made me laugh, but because of his kindness. And now he stands here, in front of me, as a leader of a country that is falling apart.


    I find my words, and I speak, asking, "Gray...?" I whispered so lightly that I almost thought he didn''t hear me. He looked at me in shock, then he ordered his guards to leave us.


    "How do you know my name?" He asked me after his men walked out and closed the door. I stared, wondering how he didn''t know the answer to that. Then I wondered what I looked like now.


    Have I truly become the monster people said I was?


    I answered him, calmly, "How do you not remember me?" My voice is hoarse, but I know he can understand me. He walks closer to me. He repeats his question, "How do you know my name?" He asked it more aggressively this time.


    I brace myself because I fear he might hit me. I think he noticed it and backed away. I answered, "We went to school together. I was the girl you sat by the fence with. The girl that was treated like a monster. You''re the boy without the voice. The boy that never spoke. The boy who smiled and sat alone." I said this quietly, and I think I might''ve cried a little. We are silent a while.


    "Do you know why I brought you here?" He asked. He was all business now. All emotion and shock wiped from his face. I shook my head no, although I did have some ideas of why.


    He nodded and started pacing. "I brought you here to train you as a weapon. You would be useful as a threat to submission." He said. I thought about that reality for a few seconds, then I shook my head. No, I thought, No. I started crying. I didn''t want to become the monster everyone thought I was. I screamed. I cried. Then there were hands holding me down. I wanted them to let go. They flew off and into a wall. I did that. I made them do that. I fainted