Chương 7: Chapter 6: The Vet's Office

Despite the chill of the winter's snow, it took me only a moment to reach the building. As I strode up to the structure, I gave it another look. It was a single story building, about the size of my house. Truthfully, the place looked completely devoid of any character. Every wall was cement, stained with a vanilla paint only slightly different from the snow-covered roof.

There were large windows around the outside of the entrance, covered by a small ceiling to block the elements coming inside when the doors were opened. As I stepped into the building, I squinted up curiously at the lights. They looked strange. Certain colors were more pronounced than others, making everything inside look a bit off. I looked away after a moment; the lights were uncomfortable for my vision.

Before I took another step, I looked up, noticing a large security camera, pointed directly at the front entrance. Still on guard around cameras, I took a step backwards. Emily stopped me before I could back out into the snow.

"Don't worry. I turned them off." She winked at me. We both knew I wasn't supposed to be on camera, and after what happened in the city the other day…I didn't want to think about it. I stepped inside fully, taking a look around as Emily closed the door behind us. Although the warmth in here was nice, I couldn't get over the awful look of the lights. Taking another glance at them, they appeared to be made in the shape of large tubes.

"Why do those look so terrible?" I asked. Emily looked confused, her gaze following mine as she looked up towards the lights, then back down to me.

"Do you mean the shape?" She raised an eyebrow, still uncertain.

"No, the color." I responded.

"They make you look like you're sick or something." It was true; Emily looked awful under the light, as if her face were missing colors. The discoloration almost looked as if it were the reflections from a computer monitor, only slightly less extreme. Emily frowned.

"That's not a very nice thing to say, Tess…" I gave a light gasp.

"Oh gosh…I didn't mean it like that!" Now realizing what I had just said, I clamped both hands over my mouth, wishing I could take it back. She chuckled, suddenly not seeming affected by my statement at all.

"I'm just joking, Tess… we'll work on building those skills together." Having broken some of the tension, Emily walked behind the front desk, heading down a small hallway. Still in the entry room, I pulled out my phone and turned on the flashlight. The building was bright enough, but my phone's light helped to fill in the missing colors. As I looked around further, I quickly realized this room must have been the waiting area.

Chairs were neatly organized along most of the walls, with a few small tables with magazines haphazardly stacked on them. The walls were covered in posters of dogs, cats, and a bunch of medical information. There was also an odd scent to the room… maybe it was some sort of cleaning fluid, but I couldn't be certain. What I was certain about, however, was the room's appearance, and how it looked almost exactly like other medical buildings I had seen online.

As much as I wanted to explore, it felt like it was wrong to go behind the desk, like I wasn't supposed to do so without permission. Instead, I poked around the waiting area, occasionally glancing out the window. I didn't want to be seen, but every time I peered outside, the world continued to remain silent. There were no signs of life, aside from a car slowly driving down the road every now and then.

Each time one was in my vision, I ducked slightly, even though I was certain no one would be able to see me, much less focus on something other than their driving. The door at the end of the hallway opened as Emily's footsteps started to grow louder. She had an urgency to her speed, but she didn't appear panicked.

"Wait-wait-wait hold on," She said, walking up to me, phone held out, "what's this?" Her phone screen was close to my face, but it wasn't showing anything.

"I…what?" I asked, confused.

"What color is this?" The look on her face told me she was excited to hear my answer…for some reason.

"Um…" I looked down once again. The entire screen was lit up with red and green, but there wasn't anything else. It was just a solid color.

"It's just red and green…" I paused, cocking my head slightly as I looked at her again.

"... are you okay?" Emily's face lit up at my response. She stood back up to her full height, going back down the hall.

"Of course!" It sounded like a reply, but to herself, not me.

"Why didn't I ask you sooner?!" Her voice continued as she went into a different room, still audible through the wall.

"Ugh, of course, of course…" I heard her rummaging around for something, her voice trailing off as she continued mumbling to herself.

"Did I get it right?!" I asked, loud enough for her to hear. She didn't answer. Whenever Emily got excited about something, she always got lost in her thoughts, and it meant she shut the world around her out. Now more curious than before, I decided to break the self-imposed rule, following her as I walked behind the front desk. Guided by the noise of Emily fumbling around for something, I found the correct door, slowly pulling it open.

The room had a large, metal table in the middle of it, and not much else besides the cupboards Emily was going through, just above a small counter with a sink.

"Here it is." She said, turning around with a flashlight in her hand.

"How about this?" She turned the flashlight on while it was facing me. The light was so bright it clouded my entire vision, making me nearly fall over.

"Gah!" I turned away, my arm shielding my eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"You can see it?!" She responded, ignoring my question.

"Oh wow! This is incredible!" I blinked, large spots splattering my vision while I looked up at her. The flashlight was now shining directly into her face instead, but despite the blinding light, she barely seemed to notice it.

"Can you stop waving that thing around, please?" I asked, blinking as I tried to recover from the surprise.

"Sorry…" She said, turning the light off. Without skipping a beat, however, she asked, "so what was that? What color was it?" Emily was genuinely starting to worry me. I responded with a question of my own, hoping to get her back on track.

"Why are we doing this? Didn't you need to get something?"

"Oh, yes, we'll do that, but what color was it?" She asked again. I had a feeling this was another series of questions with no end. She always seemed to fall into this pattern with me.

"It was purple-ish, I guess." I said, knowing full well it wouldn't be enough to satiate her curiosity.

"Purple-ish? How so? What made it different?"

"I don't know…I…I don't know how to answer that question." I responded, giving a weak shrug. That familiar pressure was welling up in me once again. I wanted this conversation to be over. When Emily got hyperfocused on me, it left me frustrated. Mercifully, she must have noticed how uncomfortable I was. Her face fell from excited to worried in an instant.

"Oh…Tess, I'm sorry…I was doing it again, wasn't I?" Finally, the tension left the air as I let out a small sigh.

"Yeah…" She gave a soft smile, putting the flashlight away.

"Sorry about that…I just can't believe I never asked you about this before! This is just so exciting!" I gave her a frustrated look. Emily got the message.

"Right, right. Sorry. Okay, yes, let's get going. I have everything together, we can head out." Having found her urgency once again, Emily and I left the room, now heading towards the back of the hallway. Since I assumed this door must be her office, I stood in the doorway, waiting for Emily to grab her backpack.

"Oh, one thing," She said while passing me to take the lead once again, "we should stop by the supermarket. They'll be closing soon." I blinked. Surely she hadn't forgotten– "Uh, I can't…" Emily nodded in understanding.

"You can wait in the car. I just need to pick up some things for you." Of course, she hadn't prepared to have an extra guest in her house. Extra food, bedding, toiletries…all important, but I still didn't feel comfortable with the idea of sitting in a crowded parking lot. Anyone could look through her car window and spot me.

"Can you do that later? I don't…um…" I knew what I wanted to say, but the words kept floating up and away from me.

"Right…I wish I had time to drop you off, but–" she checked her watch, "–there's not enough time." For a moment, Emily was silent, lost in thought as she set the backpack down in the hallway. Her resting expression turned into a soft smile as she took my hand.

"How about you stay here? I'll go to the supermarket, buy what we need, then I'll come back for you and we can go to my house together." A pause.

"Does that sound okay, Tess?" I nodded. I could manage here by myself.

"Can I stay in your office? I'd rather not be in front of the big windows."

"Oh, of course. Make yourself at home." She replied as she stood up.

"I'll be back soon. I can't wait to show you my house." Slowly letting go of my hand, Emily turned towards the front door, opening the door to the outside. I was hit with a small burst of cold once more, but as soon as it had appeared, it vanished again. After watching Emily leave, I noticed her bag, still sitting next to me. My mouth opened, trying to call out, but before any sound could escape, the rational part of my brain realized it was too late. Standing to my full height, I grabbed her backpack.

She could get it whenever she came back. With one last look at the entrance, I turned and walked to her office, closing the door behind me.

"Hmm…" The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Just to be sure, I reached up, locking the door. Emily's office was small, and a bit cluttered because of the lack of space. A large filing cabinet pressed against the wall farthest from me. Her computer desk sat right in the middle of the rectangle, separating the room into two halves. The desk itself was covered in various papers and office supplies.

As much as I felt like I shouldn't snoop around Emily's office, it was my first time seeing it, and it could be my last. Besides, she told me to make myself at home. I clambered up into her chair, having to work more than usual due to its height. As I stood on the chair's seat, my eyes gazed over the cluttered desk. The papers that caught my attention were mostly notes about customers she had, along with a few drawings of dogs and cats she had made.

I had seen sketches like this before; even though Emily didn't visit too often, she would sketch animals if she was bored or if she was waiting for time to pass. Between her keyboard and monitor, four empty mugs were sitting out. They once held coffee, based on the smell, but now they were unwashed and collecting dust.

"Ugh, am I the only one bothered by this?" I asked, reaching over to grab two in each hand. If I had to wait, I could at least help Emily by cleaning her office up a little. As I grabbed the cups, my elbow bumped the mouse, bringing the computer monitor to life. With the four pieces of ceramic in my hands, I moved back, about to turn away from the screen before I noticed something. It was a flashing box on the screen, with an exclamation point inside and text just below it. Printer out of ink.

My vision left the screen, looking around the desk before noticing a large, blocky square on the far side of the desk, right next to the wall. Ahh. That device must have been it. We never had a printer in our house, nor had I ever used one myself. Still, I had seen something like it in the movies before. Next to it, a bag rested against it, still open with what was likely the necessary ink. Although I had planned to wash the coffee cups, refilling the printer seemed more important.

I grabbed the desk in front of me, pushing away with both hands to send myself and the chair towards my goal. With just enough force, I was able to reach the desk in front of the printer without having to climb the desk itself. As I looked the printer over, I wasn't sure what to do. It was lit up with so many shapes and colors, it looked like a videogame. Taking the time to look at each screen, I soon noticed a small rectangle of light on the side of the printer, showing a short animation.

The lid of the device lifted as a hand pulled the device holding the ink out, then put a new one into it. Looks pretty straightforward… Emboldened by the instructions, I lifted the large flap to the machine's innards. No sooner had I slid the hatch to the side than I pulled back on instinct, both hearing and seeing tons of parts moving about.

It was a bit unexpected to see so much going on before my eyes, but as I continued to watch, the wires and gears inside moved one of the cubes filled with ink to the middle of the opening before stopping completely. After a moment's hesitation, to make sure everything wasn't going to suddenly start back up again, I reached in, grabbing the cube and pulling it free from the printer.

Setting it down on the table, I reached into the nearby bag, pulling out a new, but otherwise identical cube, carefully setting it into place where the original one had rested in the machine. With a soft sigh of satisfaction, I closed the lid, and once more the printer came to life and continued printing. I sat in the chair, hands held together as I watched the printer doing its job for a moment. A wide smile spread across my face.

Sure, it wasn't some major or great accomplishment, but I was happy to get it working and to help my friend however I could. Not a bad job, considering it was my first time using anything like a printer. I looked back over to the other side of the desk where the four dirty mugs rested, looking back at me. Right. I grabbed the mugs, ready to hop off the chair. Just before I did, though, the printer made a loud noise next to me as a new sheet spilled free.

Grinning, I watched it fall onto the tray as the next one was loaded, but I blinked as a word at the top of the paper caught my attention.

"Birthday" Biting my lip slightly, I looked away. I shouldn't be snooping through Emily's things. I caught myself glancing at the paper once more. The page was upside down, but I could see the full title at the top.

'18th Birthday' Eighteenth birthday, with a date plastered next to it. Below was a full page of text, and as the next page finished printing and fell into the tray, it was full of text as well. I knew it was wrong to look in places I shouldn't, but… it was clearly about me. Could it really be wrong to know? While I had the courage, I gently placed the four mugs down, grabbing the first sheet of paper as the second settled fully into the tray. Sitting down in the chair, I studied it intensively.

18th Birthday: Tess has been asking more questions. Perhaps she may be getting more independent. Possible confirmation of slower age progression or stunted growth. Vitals remain consistent. Fur color continues to get more brown with age. Compared to 17th birthday, fur color has progressed more than it had in the past (puberty?). The top paragraph seemed to be generalized notes about me. As I read further, though, each line after talked in great detail about my eighteenth birthday.

It mentioned Emily talking to me about my affinity for music. It mentioned all the questions she had asked me during that day. It mentioned each topic from the general analysis of me in greater detail. I looked down at my arm. Since I had seen my body every day, I didn't think much about the gradual change in color. Emily's notes were right, though, my hair was now a dark brown rather than black. Reality struck me once again. She must have been observing me for eighteen years…

I grabbed the second page off the tray, skimming through the text. More writings about our interactions from that day were meticulously and mechanically described… all the questions she had asked me, all the answers I had given her. There was even a small addendum at the bottom, noting my hesitancy to answer what she had asked me. The page gently fluttered to the desk as I placed it there. Next to me, the printer had stopped, having printed out several more pages. Everything was quiet.

I didn't know what to think, or if I wanted to read any further. Emily always wrote things down in a notepad whenever she was around me, but I'd never thought about what she did with her notes afterwards. Why… why didn't I ever think about her notes? Why didn't I find it strange? Maybe it wasn't until I had read the notes from Emily's perspective, but now it seemed so obvious to have considered what she might be doing. She seemed to mention "independence" several times. Am I changing?

For the next few minutes, I sat in the office chair in complete silence. It felt so unnatural to be thinking about myself in such an odd way. Up until a few days ago, I lived my life day by day, never thinking about my past, my future… or what anything meant… who I was. Things were foreign, uncomfortable, and they felt like a sensation I would never be able to fully shake, like a door I could never close completely. Whether I liked it or not, or even accepted it, I was a different person now.

Only now did I realize how small my life was. A numb, cold feeling washed over my body. So many things around me were changing by the second… and they would keep changing. What was I supposed to do? My home was gone. John was dead. I had people hunting me down. After a quiet, but happy life, it was as if someone had taken my happiness, put it into a jar and just shook it around. The series of events ran through my head, each flashing of memory appearing just long enough for me to remember them. I left the house.

I got in trouble. Some people found me. The house burnt down. John died. Everything had changed… was still changing. I could never get back what I had. Why wasn't I panicking anymore? Why couldn't I feel anything? After several minutes passed, I hopped off the chair. I had to do something, and the first place to start was Emily's filing cabinets. If all of her notes were written, they might still be somewhere in here.

I started yanking open a random drawer, not even bothering with any labels as I shuffled through the papers. Each set seemed to be organized with little envelope-looking things, labels on the top of them as the pages between each envelope rested on their sides. I reached into a few sets of papers, finding files on different people who had visited the vet with their pets. Various medicines and treatments were listed–nothing important to me. I closed the drawer and started on the next.

My frustration grew as I continued through drawer after drawer, finding nothing of interest. Of course it would be vet information, but it wasn't what I was hoping to discover. Maybe she keeps my files at home? Just after the thought crossed my mind, I opened the lowest and final drawer on the cabinet. Glancing around, I quickly noticed the filing method was different. These envelopes were sorted by date, not names. The first tab at the front read:"02/2034" There were a few papers inside of the envelope.

I reached in and pulled the sheets free. It didn't take long to realize the similarities between these pages and the ones spit out by the printer not long ago. Paragraphs of text were splattered on each piece of paper, each one having my name written throughout the information. Colored square papers were stuck to almost every page, all of them containing additional notes and references. I didn't care about what she had written; there was something more important I had to find.

Pulling the drawer out completely, I noticed the files spilling all the way to the back, complete with dates on each of them. I reached for the final tab with my birthday marked on it… my actual birthday. Without hesitation I pulled it free. There was a massive pile of papers stuffed into the tab. Ugh, I'm not in the mood for this. Unwilling to meticulously file through each page, I turned the file on its side, letting everything spill out onto the floor.

Once I slid off the chair and got on my knees, I started pushing the papers around. Hundreds of notes, drawings, and diagrams filled my vision. There was even a bag with black hairs in it, and a few splotches on a piece of paper that looked like a smaller version of my handprint.

"W-What is this?!" I sifted through the papers even more, confused, worried.

"How did you… what…" I couldn't even finish a sentence without jumping into another. Everything about me was documented in these files… everything. Pages dedicated to my body shape, my diet, my behavior… I felt like a science experiment. One thing stood out to me through all the words, however. Unlike the recent files, my name wasn't listed anywhere. All of it referred to me as 'alien', each sentence referring to me as if I were a thing. A light gasp came from the back of my throat as the realization hit me.

The date wasn't my birthday. It was the day they found me. … so it was yet another part of my identity… which wasn't real. One of the core things everyone knew about themselves, something I thought I knew, was all a lie… a lie Emily and John had told me. Neither of them knew when I was born. They only knew when they found me. The cold, numb feeling in my body was quickly being replaced, filled up with anger instead. Less than a week ago, I'd asked Emily if she knew about my situation… how naive I was.

Of course she knew; she knew everything about me and never said a thing. I was just her experiment, her little test subject, all to be observed and documented. My eyes filled with tears as I kept trying to read the now blurry words. Unable to focus on details, I stood up, grabbing the next folder and slammed it to the floor. More drawings… notes… observations. None of this information was about a person. It was as if she were writing about an animal in the zoo. I thought I could trust Emily.

Now I just felt betrayed. She knew more than anyone else, probably even more than John… John was in on it, too… An almighty roar ripped itself from my throat as I effortlessly grabbed the entire open drawer, lifting it over my head and throwing it against the opposite wall. Papers scattered in all directions, covering any remaining empty floor with more parchment. Before they even settled, I had taken the next drawer, slamming it into the same spot as the first.

The metal from this drawer went several inches into the wall, stuck in place. It felt good to watch the dust from the drywall fill the room, like it was helping me expel a fraction of the rage I felt inside of me. I went to grab the first drawer I had thrown, not sure what I would next do with it. Before I could decide, I noticed a small bottle, tucked in the back corner. Of course, I recognized it in an instant. That bottle was filled with mercury. It was what those two… thugs… or whatever they were…

had used to find my location. Scooping it up into my hand, I nearly threw it straight at the window, but I stopped as a new wave of life flooded through me. Something better was coming to mind. You want to see some independence, Emily? Oliver's offer was still on the table. Smirking, I grabbed the backpack Emily had left behind and dumped its contents onto the already messy floor. Carefully setting the bottle of mercury inside the bag, I made my way from door to door of the building.

There had to be some other useful supplies here. By the time I returned to Emily's office, I had the flashlight Emily had used, some bottles of water and some sandwiches stacked in the refrigerator. Dumping all of my loot into the backpack, I zipped it up and slung it over my shoulder. My eyes glanced around the room, taking one last look at everything. I hadn't forgotten how Emily had found me the last time I'd left to visit the city. I couldn't let that happen again.

Pulling out my phone, I flipped through the settings, about to turn off the tracking and location sharing. Just before I did, I noticed Emily on the move, heading back from the store and towards me. There wasn't much time. I swiped both settings to 'off'. With little effort, I jumped up to the window. Going through the front door was unwise, especially if Emily would be back at any minute. For only a moment, I turned to look back at the destroyed office.

A small pang of guilt shot through me, but it vanished as fast as it arrived. I knew I would feel differently about it later, maybe even regret what I'd done, but right now, it felt far too good for me to have any shame. Emily wanted to see more independence? Here it was. My will stronger than ever, I turned towards the window once again, taking in the surroundings as I slipped outside. It was still dark, but the full moon gave me enough light for me to see.

Before I started my adventure, there were some things back home I needed to take with me. It wouldn't be hard to find my way back; I still remembered which streets we had taken to get here. Although I didn't know how to get to Oliver's house, I could figure out that problem. I was independent after all, right? I adjusted the backpack's straps until they fit snugly on my frame, looking in the direction of my house. Oliver had mentioned he lived in Grand Junction.

If I could stop by my house and grab some supplies, I figured I could start heading that way. With a wide smile and glee in my voice, I affirmed it to myself:"So, the real journey begins."