It's world

It once was a girl.

The girl loved a lot. Her family, her friends, her home.

(The stories she made up)

Bright light. Shooting soldiers. Why can't that all just stop?

Nightly Flashbacks are the worst.

Loud noise. Screaming. From whom? The soldiers or the threats?

A nightmare is still dreamed.

She promised it. She promised to be good. False promises.

She was supposed to laugh.

"Save yourself!"

Many people said that to her. Nobody survived.

(That's just survivors guilt, okay?)

Life is just an never ending dream (nightmares are dreams).

She was replaced by it.

"510, did you understood the assignment?", asked the scientist. A he.

Number: 510

Security level: dangerous

Origin: /

It tried to feel itself. Tried to process the question.

Anomality: [Personal level 10 necessary]

Apperance:

- Young female

- Age [redacted]

- Indian-Irish

Note: 510 looks human, it isn't.

"Go in, ask questions, go out alive."

(alive isn't necessarily)

It lost its living will.

"Correct. The jailors will now take you to 678's cell."

Breath.

Breath is necessary to live.

The jailors had taser in their hands. They use(d) them.

It's for it's who escape.

The scientists always said, the outside world is cruel. Deadly.

Jailors. Soldiers. Scientists. Psychologists. Humans.

Her family isn't cruel (or are they? It doesn't know.)

It's don't have a family.

Her home wasn't deadly (at least most of the time).

It didn't have a home.

The bright light made it nervous, the walls were threatening.

Don't talk back.

Don't escape.

Too loud was bad, too silent was bad. Everything hurts.

Everything was in the organization.

The jailors looked like crocodiles. They killed and hated it's.

Some sentences don't make sense.

The psychologists said that that's normal for traumatized adults (children).

Its mind is like water.

The 678's cell looked like 510 own. Bed, toilet, light, no comfort.

It's don't have human rights.

678 appeared. 510 didn't know from where. It didn't pay attention anymore.

Try to escape your mind.

"Aren't you a little to young?", it asked. How ridiculous.

It's grow up with twelve.

"I'm an adult!", it squeaked.

"Would you be that outside?"

It remembered who 678 is. Was.

It giggled childish.

"You can't escape!", it said. "Nobody can!"

Escape is pointless. Like hope.

The it, once a man, looked at it with interest.

Dr. Shelton always did that.

Memories filled its mind, but it replaced them like soldiers.

678 isn't Dr. Shelton. It's aren't.

The sun is yellow.

Fire is hot.

Cookies taste good.

Day dreaming is like living.

Jona borrowed her sweater. Mrs. Zessin made her a promise.

"You can, can't you, Mareesha?"

Mareesha? Mareesha doesn't exist. She's dead since it appeared. Promised.

Better it forget Mareesha again.

"Stop it."

"Why? Because it's the truth?"

"Because it hurts."

She's deep in its heart.

Mareesha's father made the best curry, her mother was awesome.

She made it smile everytime.

Her paintings showed the sea, her dances always included jumpings.

She wanted to be free.

She laughed all the time, never ever wanted to die.

It can never be free.

"But you can escape, can't you?", it asked. "Why don't?"

Tears were like salty rain.

"You can't understand, Dr. Shelton."

"Then explain it to me."

You mean to the organization?

Damn salty rain.

"I love my home world."

"We know."

Either it or we. 1985.

It tried to express what it felt, what didn't worked.

It's aren't supposed to feel

The it, once a girl, tried to breath. Breathing's important.

"Why don't you just go?"

Iris. Stella. Cameron. Milaya. Tj. Sigurrós. Hopper. Conner.

Sanjay. Annalise.

Matt. Kim. Saoirse. Kate. Hannah.

"I can't let them die."

678 made some steps backwards.

"What do you mean with die?"

It covered its ears. Lalalalala.

They won't die, 510 would carry them and their world. Hers.

The blurry line of reality.

"Mareesha, you named some...prefered names of subjects. What's about them?"

Mareesha never knew their names.

She knew the names of her parents and her friends.

But she never knew this.

Mareesha's well being was more important than 510's. She was valuable.

They mourn(ed) her, not it.

"I'm here to protect them."

"Who?", 678 asked confused. "Protect who?"

The blurry line of reality.

Some things happened in reality. Some just in its mind.

For it it's the same.

"Those who can't protect themselves", it answered like a superhero.

Mareesha wanted to be one.

"This was never about interviewing you, was it?"

It knew.

And it understand the organization.

510 understand why the organization would find someone like it terrifying.

Mareesha (would) thought 510 is terrifying.

"Maybe, maybe not. Who knows for sure? You can go."

Like the whole time, actually.

This jail, this torture, it was all voluntary. All along.

She wanted to safe them.

510 jumped out of the cell, this time without the jailors.

So she turned into it.

Sometimes, when the light wasn't that bright, it was nice.

(it mostly wasn't that way)

They often fought wars in these halls against other threats.

But that's okay, isn't it?

At first, Mareesha hated it here. The violence, death, pain.

She was kidnapped (kind of)

But then she met them. The other it's. Innocent people.

They would often be children.

Organazation Children never saw the sky but already killed someone.

(absolutely everyone here is traumatized)

Mareesha knew, that she had to be an adult now.

(you're an adult with twelve)

510 entered 134's cell. They can't control it anyways and they knew.

No one can control chaos.

"510, do you have time to play with me?", 134 (Stella) asked.

Stella is nearly an adult.

Mareesha smiled. "Of course, Sweetie. What do you wanna play?"

She was it for Stella.

Mareesha would stay for her and her family and friends.

She sacrificed herself for them.

Because love is always stronger than the fear of dying.

(dying isn't that bad, right?)

Because she would just endanger her world if she'd return.

(they don't really need her)

Because someone who can alter reality shouldn't let children die.

(even if it means dying).

(physically)

(mentally)

(damn, her psychologists are definitely underpaid).