The Lab Rat

• Sarah Gasnier, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2022

I was surrounded by my cluster. A group of starving children. We lived in this compact, claustrophobic room that we called home. Before the great revolution, we had proper homes with real families. Well, that was before they got eliminated for their disloyalty to the elders. Then we were sent here, to the Institute. To be ‘cared’ for.

Click!Click!Click!

I turned my attention to the inescapable door. Two men entered the room, and from the stern looks on their faces, I could tell they weren’t friendly. The mens eyes scanned the room until their glares landed on me.

“Number 101, come with us!” They boomed

I ignored their command.

“Walk!” they ordered, with an urgent tone before pulling me up from the ground.

I vigorously twisted my arms and dug my nails into their skin, desperately trying to break free of their grips. Although, It was obvious they weren’t taking my nonsense seriously, because the men just dragged me forward, across the floor without a care in the world. As they dragged me out the door, I took one last glance back at my cluster, before the door slammed shut.

I pondered as my legs dragged across the floor. Perhaps they were taking me to my promised place. A home where I would be safe. Although these keepers seemed like my enemies, perhaps I could trust them. For the first time since the great revolution I believed. I believed that there was a place for me. I believed that I could be happy again…. I believed that mother was wrong to question society.

The men of Brobdingnagian height, came to a stop at another door before opening it. Air as cold as ice came flowing out of the room. A short figure waited inside. Behind him was a large metal seat. This was not a safe home. I should have questioned like my mother before me, but I was blinded by the illusion of a perfect Utopia like everybody else. The two men dragged me to the seat and lifted me in, keeping a tight hold on my arms making sure I didn’t escape.

But I didn’t care!

I dived out of the chair, onto the tile floor and screamed, But before I could escape, the keepers grabbed me and dragged me back across the floor, and pulled me into the chair.

Metal bars flipped over my wrists and ankles trapping me inside. I watched, petrified, as the doctor brought a long needle to my shoulder and pierced my skin. The needle slowly drew blood from my arm, filling up. The doctor turned away from me to test the results.

“She’s ready, for the brain wash.”
The keepers pressed cords to my forehead via stickers. Cold tears trickled down my burning cheeks. I should have questioned. I should have followed my mothers judgement, but it was to late. All I believed now was that I would final see her again. My heart raced as the doctor counted down.
“3…2…1,”

“Activate…….”