"He can't control us forever," Sawyer whispered closely in my ear.
My heart dropped into my stomach.
"Easy for you to say…"
Sawyer pulled away from me a little and started to walk away with an arm around my shoulders. I let my eyes fall, knowing we were going to have this talk again.
"He can't keep you this close forever."
I wanted to believe that, but I knew that was not true. It was a feeling deep in my gut that I was stuck with Dr. Vodola until I died.
"I wish I could believe that. Your dad will let you go off to college, and then I'll never see you again while I'm stuck with him for all eternity."
I knew I sounded bitter as I pouted, but I could feel that nightmare taking over my mind. The horrible days before, the scientists had threatened to take me away if I didn't go to school. The years I spent living in the corner of Dr. Vodola's lab. The cold floor sending permanent chills down my spine as the shadows on the walls kept me there, too afraid to move.
"Just remember I'm here for you. Hey, look, if we walk a little further, we can get some ice cream." Sawyer informed me, rubbing my shoulder.
My heart was racing as I sat in the folding chair. There were rows and rows of people in front of us. I was sitting next to Dr. Vodola with a few other scientists that I grew up around. Each of us had a microphone and a glass of water in front of us.
"First Question?" Dr. Green asked.
Dr. Green was the most senior member of the team. I still remembered him as one of the people who wanted me to start school. Hands shot up in the air as cameras continued to flash before us. I had spent so much time with Dr. Green over the years.
"The clone is small for her age; she's around five feet. Do you imagine if we continue to clone that all of them would be smaller?"
"There is a chance that the cloning process caused her to be smaller. We are still figuring out if that was a genetic make-up situation or the cloning process itself." Dr. Vodola answered.
"Over the years, the question of who she is a clone of has come up repeatedly, yet no one on the team has answered the question. Why is that?"
Dr. Vodola leaned over. "For the privacy of the family that we got the DNA from, we will continue to respect their privacy."
The reporter opened their mouth to continue, but Dr. Vodola picked someone else. I raised an eyebrow. Who was I a clone of? Would I ever meet them? Why hadn't I asked that question?
"In another interview, you mentioned she was ahead of the curve academically. Is that still the case?"
"She is, she's a freshman taking some sophomore-level honor classes, but she could have skipped more grades." Dr. Vodola's voice was sharp.
"We discussed putting her with her academic peers, but we wanted to see how socially she would do closer to her actual peers." Dr. Green continued.
The reporters continued to scribble away. A few were typing.
"Are you planning on going to college?" a male reporter up front asked, looking at me.
My eyes widen. They didn't usually directly ask me questions. I cleared my throat and leaned closer to the microphone.
"I haven't thought about it."
"She's going to go to a school where she can commute and stay near us to study." Dr. Vodola's voice was louder than mine.
His words echoed through my head. Stay near them. My stomach twisted. More hands shot up. I leaned back in the chair and couldn't look at the audience any longer. The prison bars grew clearer. I would be with Dr. Vodola for longer than Sawyer was thinking. Sawyer was thinking of himself, thinking as far as he could. Part of me knew that I wouldn't be as lucky as him. The questions were like buzzing in my ear. I was unable to hear any other questions to answer again. I had listened to my prison sentence.
The full moon rays came through my window. The moonbeams shined through the new bars on my windows. The bars' shadows clung onto the wall around me, making my eyes stay wide open and worrisome to my surroundings. Feeling stupid, I threw my sheets over my head, grasped firmly in my trembling hands, and forcefully shut my eyes. I tried to calm my breathing. The darkness of my closed eyelids betrayed me, showing me my nights of being terrified out of my mind. I saw the nightmares of the ice woman and her cold eyes watching me, and I shook my head to erase her. Yet those glazed eyes were fixed on me.
The other day, being at that conference sent me back to the old days—the constant poking, prodding, and measuring that left me feeling naked even when I wasn't. The panels weren't much better; I didn't know who asked more invasive questions, the media or the scientists.
A shudder went through me that was a mix between disgust and dread. I opened my eyes to see how much time was wasted by lack of sleep—shifting the sheet just enough so that one eye could look at the alarm clock. Seeing the red numbers, eleven fifty-five. I yanked the sheets over my head again. I had a test the next day, and I didn't want to fall asleep on my test.
I was in high school, and
