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Singing, laughter and clapping spread around the classroom as everyone wished Chuuya a happy birthday. He was turning 5. Chuuya felt his cheeks light up with embarrassment, yet he still felt happy.
He hoped nothing would take this happiness away–Nothing at all.
The day went on as normal, and soon enough, the bell signaling the end rang.
As Chuuya waited for his parents to pick him up, he spotted a playground in the distance. He ran over, prompting to play as he waits for his parents rather than just standing around
Laughter and playful screams echoed through the playground as kids ran around with their friends, their ages varying.
Suddenly–a boy a little older than Chuuya, walked over to him.
“Why do your eyes look like that?” Chuuya flinched, taken aback. It's not like he didn't know what the boy meant, he knew his eyes were different. After all, one was colored brown and the other blue.
And from Chuuya's observations, that ain't normal.
A frown overtook Chuuya's lips as he talked back to the older boy “I was born with my eyes like this!” Chuuya shot back defensively.
“My mom says that normal kids have only one eye colour!”
“Then your mom is wrong! My eyes are normal!”
“If your parents told you they are normal then they are dummies! Your parents are dummies!” The older boy had taken pride in proclaiming this.
Chuuya clenched his fists, he then lunged for the older boy, trying to make him take his words back.
In the midst of the fight, adults came running over. But before they could do anything–the older boy grabbed a pencil which he found on the ground and stabbed it into Chuuya’s wrist.
Chuuya jumped back, immediately breaking into tears. An adult–Chuuya's mom, bent down and started to calm him down, analyzing the injury on his wrist.
She sighed with worry, then she asked Chuuya; “Why were you fighting that boy?”
Chuuya, with tears in his eyes, replied; “Because he called you a dummy!” At this, Chuuya started sobbing even harder.
Chuuya’s mother gently lifted Chuuya into his arms and took him to their car.
“We'll take you to the doctor, we don't want your cut to get worse now do we?” She said, her lips curving into a smile.
Chuuya nodded, tears still pricking the corner of his eyes.
At the implication that there was more than one person with them, he looked into the car. There, he saw his father. Whom he rarely ever met with. Chuuya's sulking turned into excitement, “Dads here?” he exclaimed cheerfully, turning to his mom.
She smiled at him, gentle and soft. “Yes! He took a leave for 3 days, after all, it's your birthday today.”
Chuuya's eyes lit up with excitement; he can't even remember the last time his dad came home for his birthday.
Chuuya's mom put Chuuya onto the backseat of the car. After that, she settled into the passenger seat herself.
●○●○●○
Chuuya laid in bed, his arm wrapped in bandages, and his eyes barely open.
His mom gently kissed his forehead as she stepped away to turn off the lights.
“Goodnight, Chuuya”
Chuuya didn't reply, after all, he was already fast asleep.
…
Chuuya's eyes opened shakily, the room was dark. The sun hadn't risen yet.
Looking at the clock, he found out the time was 11pm.
Suddenly, a loud noise–one of glass breaking–echoed through Chuuya’s ears, the noise was accompanied by yelling. Chuuya recognized the voice, it was his mom.
At this, Chuuya shot up. “Mom…?”, His voice came out shaky, he didn't know what was going on.
…
The door slammed open and a bright light shined directly in Chuuya's face, he instinctively shut his eyes. From the brief second Chuuya had to see the people in his room, he noticed that all of them were wearing masks.
Suddenly–a hand wrapped around his wrist. And before Chuuya could even process what was going on, someone started dragging him outside.
Chuuya struggled, attempting to break free from the masked person's grip. And then–he saw it. His dad layed on the floor unconscious, he didn't look dead.
“No! Let go of him!” The shout came from his mom, she had two people holding her back. She thrashed and kicked more than Chuuya.
Unfortunately, the struggle was utterly useless. As Chuuya ended up being dragged out of the house and thrown into the back of a truck.
Chuuya sobbed, endless tears streaming down his face as he scratched the arms of the people holding him down, “Let me go! Stop it, stop it! Let me g-” A sharp pain shot through Chuuya’s neck and then–
Thud.
–he was out cold.
●○●○●○
Chuuya opened his eyes, blinking heavily.
He was met with white walls surrounding every inch of the enclosed room he was in.
The room was small. White walls, a small bed in which Chuuya was laying on, a door across from him, a trolley with tools, and… a camera, pointed directly at him.
Tears rolled down from Chuuya’s already stained cheeks as he sobbed uncontrollably again. He screamed and cried, banging on the locked door, begging for his parents to save him. After all, that's what they promised they'd do.
The camera still pointed at Chuuya, observing.
And then the door slammed open–sending Chuuya tumbling back.
Someone stepped in. It was a man, dressed in all white. His hair was parted through the middle, his face was decorated with a pair of glasses and a face mask.
He reached down and picked Chuuya up. Chuuya thrashed, doing all he can to get out of the man's grip. “Stop it! Let go of me!” Chuuya's pleas echoed through the ever silent room. The man placed Chuuya onto the bed and injected him with some sort of drug.
Chuuya went numb, he couldn't feel anything besides a slight tingling sensation. “Your name is Chuuya, correct?” The man asked.
Chuuya nodded, breathing heavily–as if he was asleep. “Quite the name you have. However that is not the name you will be associated with anymore. You will now answer subject A-258.”
“...In other words, your new name is subject A-258”
Chuuya didn't respond, verbally, at least. He only nodded simply, as he still had yet to understand what the man meant.
After delivering this information, the man picked up a tool and stamped something onto Chuuya's neck. And then once again, Chuuya had become unconscious.
○●○●○●○
Something–no–someone, answered Chuuya's wishes, as a perfect escape had come to him.
He was being escorted by 2 doctors into an isolated room, but something serious must have happened as they ran out in a hurry, leaving the door unlocked.
Chuuya quietly looked outside, no one. The only noise being the fading footsteps of the 2 doctors echoing through the elongated hall.
Chuuya wasn't dumb, he took this chance which was being handed to him on a silver platter, and booked it down the hall.
He ran, faster than he would have ever thought he could. Freedom felt so close, like a breath away. But it was cut short, as Chuuya ran into a doctor. And not just any doctor, but the doctor who catered to him the most. Professor N.
“Where do you think you're going, Subject A-258?” Chuuya's breath hitched, “I-”
A gloved hand covered Chuuya's mouth, “It doesn't matter, I was heading to the room which you were supposed to be in anyway.”
Professor N grabbed Chuuya's wrist and gripped it tight, dragging him to the room.
From there, Chuuya would be put through horrors no 5-year-old should ever face.
○●○●○●○
Ever since that day, Chuuya had learned that escape was impossible. All he could do was wait for his parents to come save him. They'd have to come eventually…right?
…
Another day had passed. No parents in sight.
…
And then another.
…
And another.
…
A week had passed. Chuuya’s parents are where to be seen.
The only thing keeping Chuuya from losing hope was the scar on his wrist. The only injury on him which hadn't come from the lab.
This was proof that his parents were coming to save him…
○●○●○●○
Two years had passed since the incident. Since their son's “death”.
A couple stood in front of a grave, for none other than their son. Chuuya.
However, he wasn't dead. Their memories were warped…changed. The work of an ability.
To them, their son died in his sleep. The cause? Unknown.
Yet the reality was much more grueling.
….
In the end, the promise they made to save their son was never fulfilled. But Chuuya will never hold it against them, as he doesn't even remember it.
Even 17 years later, the memory still lingers, and it has yet to be recovered.
:>