The past three days marked a new level of testing. Ever since that first day on the treadmill, Kacy has had me running a mile every day, sometimes twice a day if she’s feeling particularly malicious. Even Jonah admitted the amount of times I’ve been in their exam rooms is uncommon for test subjects here. I’m one of maybe a hundred or more subjects, they shouldn’t have the kind of time they’re spending on me. They’re paying special attention to me and neither Jonah nor I want to find out why.

Three days ago, Kacy had burst through my cell door. Her scarred smile was stretched further than I’d ever seen it before.

“Wakey-wakey, 214!” She sing-songed.

I hefted myself up off the floor and looked up at her, my eyelids heavy with fatigue. “What do you want?” I grumbled.

Kacy hooked my collar with her hand and dragged me up into a standing position. Her smile swapped to annoyed at my reluctance. “You know why.” She hissed.

I followed her out into the rows of cells. As soon as both my feet had hit the ground below my cell, her hand pressed into my back.

“Move.” She ordered.

We walked down into the doctor’s office with the treadmill and ran through the usual physical exams, starting with the treadmill and ending again with the treadmill. By the time I got done with the second run, I could see spots dancing in front of my eyes. Still fighting to stay conscious, I was marched down the hallway by Kacy into another cell. It was about the same size as the doctor’s office, but instead of exercise equipment, there was a giant, circular machine. A small cot sat on a small track leading into a hole in the center of the machine. I could tell the machine was white, but it was grimy, dirt and blood stained the outside of the machine, its surface was stained the yellow of an old computer. A sick feeling in my stomach told me something had gone wrong in this room.

“What is that?” I asked

“Lie down on the cot.” Kacy ordered.

“What is that?” I repeated. My voice firm.

Kacy hissed with frustration. She grabbed me by my arm and dragged me over to the cot. I was kicking and screaming the whole time, but that only seemed to encourage her. She shoved me over until I was on top of the cot and proceeded to strap my arms, legs, midsection, and head down until I was unable to move, as if the fight I’d put up was common for her. She leaned over the table and smirked at me before wandering over to a small control pad on the side of the machine.

She pressed a few buttons and the machine whirred to life. I felt the cot move with a small jolt and slid into the hole in the center. It was at this moment something clicked in my head. This was an MRI. This was an MRI, right? I’d never seen one in person before, just in documentaries I was shown in school. Now that I’m thinking back to them, I’m realizing Soma didn’t check me for any sort of metal before I went in.

Wasn’t she supposed to check?

The idea that she may have asked my parents about my medical history settled like a stone in my stomach. Yet another betrayal at the hands of the people who were supposed to care for me.

The MRI spat me out and Kacy spent what felt like an hour studying the results of the scan. She muttered to herself as she analyzed every little blot on the computer screen, I caught a few snippets that sounded approving, almost relieved.

After about five minutes of this I decided to stand up from the cot, only for Soma to clap her hands and turn around, her unnatural, scarred smile stretched almost to her ears. “Okay, 214!” She grabbed me by my shoulders and shoved me back down onto the cot. She sauntered out of the room and returned with a metal tray. As she set it down I saw a few small tubes and what looked like a USB drive. She grabbed my left arm and shifted her grip to my ring finger before placing the oval shaped item to its tip. “You might feel a sting.” She said, her voice cheery. She pressed down on the item and I felt a pressure on my finger. Soma snagged one of the clear tubes off the table and held it to my finger, my eyes widened as it filled with blood almost instantly. My finger slowly began to sting, a burning sensation that was mild at first but quickly grew to an almost acidic feel, the sting of the needle that had just pierced through my skin. Kacy filled up a few more of the tubes before swapping the tubes out for a small piece of gauze. She pulled it away when my finger stopped bleeding.

“Right! Come with me!” Kacy grabbed my arm and led me back to my cell. She pushed me inside and closed the door with a deafening clang behind me.

I sank down the wall and buried my face in my knees.

“You okay?” Jonah’s voice came from behind me.

“Yeah. I think so.” I stared at my finger, a dull pain still pulsing through it.

“That’s good.” Jonah’s voice got a little louder as he approached where I was sitting. There was a small sliding sound and a thump as he sat down. “With Soma… it’s always hard to tell what she’ll do.”

“Just exams I think.” I closed my fingers and winced as I felt the bruise forming on my finger. “She took some blood though.”

Jonah fell silent. “Oh… she’s starting the blood tests, finally?”

“What… what do you mean?” I blinked and half turned to face the wall.

“Um… I don’t…,” Jonah faltered. “It’s just… blood tests....”

“Jonah, please.” Panic started to flit around my chest, rising to my throat.

Jonah’s voice grew sorrowful. “They do blood tests when they’re almost ready to start experiments.”

With that news fully rooted in my brain, I’ve barely made it through the past few days. I’ve been counting and I think I’ve had at least two panic attacks so far. Maybe I’ll have more. Every day the exams get longer and longer, the amount of blood Soma takes from me gets larger and larger. My arms and fingers are covered in bruises and scabs. I’ve had to stop and readjust my pen grip every few seconds while writing this as my hand will shift and suddenly I’ll be pushing on one of the many bruises on the tips of my fingers. But I just… I can’t get rid of the image of the girl I saw when I came here. The girl with the bubbling skin.

… Is that going to be me?