Dying For You

There has to be more than this. I dream of bigger things. I like to pretend that I live in a world that's bigger, brighter, and warmer. So much warmer. But I always wake up here. I look back down at my hands and continue to pick at them. I can't seem to focus enough to disassociate today. I can't explain it, but I have a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I think they're coming for me today, and I don't know what to expect. I'm dreading it. Sometimes, they make me fight people; sometimes, they make me run on a moving floor- I think they call it a treadmill- and do other things until I can't stand anymore. Sometimes, they test my thinking skills, and sometimes, they do things to me- they give me something to see how I will react. I don't like it. One time, I woke up and couldn't move my right arm; once, I couldn't see anything and another time, my tongue was huge for a while. It eventually went away, but it was very painful. I pull myself out of my thoughts and look around me. It's dark. Very dark. I look at my feet, which I can barely see because it's so dark. I wish I could straighten my legs. It's been so long since I've been to the Above that my knees are starting to hurt from being bent so much. I should be used to it. It's all I've ever known. But when I was little, this place - my space, seemed bigger. But I've grown. I don't think I'm full-grown; the men are definitely bigger than I am. One day, I will be their size when I'm full-grown. But I don't think I'll be able to fit in my space anymore. My shoulders just about touch both walls, and I put my back on one wall, and my feet touch the other one. I hope I get bigger, though. I want to be able to get out of here without help. I wonder if I'll be able to reach the top and push the top off. Maybe I could do it one day when I'm bigger and get out of here. I know the men's schedule pretty good. I think I could get out without getting caught if only I could reach. Suddenly, the top screeches as it flies open, making it much brighter in here. "Come on, runt. It's time." a man says in a gruff voice. I push myself onto my feet. "Hands," he orders. I lift my arms over my head and slightly cross my wrists. He grabs both of my hands and lifts me out of my space, dropping me on the floor of the Above, causing the back of my head to hit the hard floor. I groan in pain as I grab my head. "You could have been nicer." I groan, squinting my eyes from the sudden brightness. "On your feet, runt." he rolls his eyes, pulling me up. At least I can stretch my legs. He grabs my elbow and drags me along. My feet struggle to keep up with his large steps. He pulls me down the hall and into the worst room. What are they doing to me now? The doctor glances at us over his shoulder. "There she is! How are you today?" he smiles at me. "What are you going to do to me?" I ask. "I have a new concoction, and I need to test it. Don't worry too much; you've tested all the individual components, and now I've just combined them. I don't believe that it's a high enough dose to kill you. We'll see, though." the doctor turns around to face me completely. I looked somewhere else. I've made the mistake of looking at him before and learned my lesson quickly. I don't want to die. I don't want to do this. But fighting is pointless. He stands in front of me, looking at the large needle in his hand. He raises it and flicks it with his finger. Tink. Tink. Tink. The man forces my head to tilt to the side as the doctor puts the needle in my neck. I feel my body go cold as he empties the syringe. The room starts to spin as he pulls it out of my neck. "Drop her back in the hole. Be careful with her head. If she survives, we need to run tests." The world fades to nothingness.