Page 97 of Petite Fleur

When Maeve doesn't respond to me, I continue.

I can tell that she's awake, that she's listening, so I have to get this all out in the open now before I lose my nerve and never tell her. "My mother was the head researcher. She made the bad shit, stuff the government would never admit to funding. The things that you'd never get a willing test subject to experiment on, so she used me." I explain to her.

Maeve doesn't move, but she does ask why. At least I know she's listening. "Money. She would strap me down and try out these treatments on me. The first time was when I was eight. She thought she created a serum to enhance vision past 20-20. That's why one eye is silver, it took all the color from my eye, but it worked. I can see at night, I can see far too far away, and my peripheral vision is enhanced on that side." I explain.

“So that’s how you were able to catch me? That’s cheating.” Maeve says casually, but she keeps her back to me as she speaks.

Whatever, I’ll take it; at least she’s speaking.

I chuckle lightly and roll my eyes at her. “No, you just suck at running. Please never go anywhere that you may actually have to run, you’d be doomed and then I’d be doomed from having to carry you off.” I tease.

Maeve quickly rolls onto her back and I can see the ghost of a smile on her face, hidden behind pure stubbornness. “You won’t let me go anywhere, remember? And where would I possibly go that I’d need to run?” She asks sincerely.

Okay, that’s fair, but maybe it’s for her own good that she can’t go anywhere. “It’s a dangerous world, ma fleur. Concerts, theme parks, the fair, school, none of it is safe and you run like an idiot.” I tease.

Maeve reaches over and smacks my chest, glaring at me as convincingly as she can, it’s not very. “Jerk.” She mumbles.

But then the silence hangs over us for a moment and her face grows more serious. “First time?” She finally asks.

I knew that was coming, but I’m still not sure how much to tell her, but I have to get it out before I lose my nerve and the subject never comes up again.

“Yes, the first time. She would do little experiments over the years, nothing too major for a while after the eye. Not until she thought she found a serum to make someone unable to feel pain. She gave that to me when I was 11, then proceeded to strap me to a table and cut my chest open like an autopsy while I was awake. She even cut three ribs out of my chest. The serum didn't work. I felt everything and the serum didn't even let me pass out from the pain, so I guess to her it was a success in another way. It was a creative form of torture." I tell her.

My chest aches with the memory of my mother putting a mouth guard in my mouth and going to town on my chest with a bone saw.

I wish that serum had worked, that I wouldn't have had to feel the pain of her cracking my sternum open and looking inside for no reason other than to torment me and to get her sick joy out of my misery.

Maeve finally rolls over onto her other side to look at me, but I'm not looking at her. I can't, not yet. Not until I get this all out in the open. "I'm sorry." She says quietly.

I nod, but I have to continue. "When I was 14, she thought she'd created a serum to make sleep obsolete. She strapped me to a table and gave me the medicine in a constant IV. She observed how I slowly lost my mind from being so tired. On the 16th day, she let me out of my restraints to see what I would do. I didn't know what was going on, nothing made sense, I wasn't in my right frame of mind. I ran into her office and grabbed that same bone saw that split my chest open and cut my leg off. She didn't even stop me until I passed out." I tell her.

She gasps at my story, her hand going over her mouth in horror at what my mother had done to me. I get it; I would be horrified, too if I wasn't numb to what she'd done.

Now the only time I feel anything other than pain and hate is when Maeve lets me see the small parts of her that the rest of the world misses out on.

The only time I feel anything good is when I'm with her.

"She should be in prison. Is she?" Maeve asks quietly.

I sigh and shake my head; here comes the confession that will sicken her. "I killed her." I admit.

"Good. She deserved it." She blurts out.

I can't even help the little laugh that I give. My girl who won't eat meat because animals suffer is glad that I killed my mother, it's adorable honestly. "She did. I didn't mean to do it, though." I say.

"Then why did you?" She asks.

I shrug slightly, I don't regret killing my mother, but it was an accident. One that I know I never would have had the guts to do on my own. It was what framed me into the killer that I am today.

"She was working on a temporary medication to make men infertile and impotent. One that could be given to rapists and pedophiles until they've been deemed they're no longer a threat, then they could get another shot to restore function. She wanted to try it on me, but I was 16, I didn't want to risk losing that. And I definitely didn't want my mother to shoot a needle in my balls." I say with a laugh, one that Maeve reciprocates.

"I ran from her, obviously, but she chased me through the house. I ran up the stairs to lock myself in my room and when shegrabbed onto my shirt, I shoved her. She fell down the stairs and broke her back. She wasn't dead, but she couldn't move. I didn't want to go to prison, so I walked down the stairs and snapped her neck while she told me I would die for doing this to her. Then I called the police and said she fell." I explain.

There, it's all out.

Okay, not all.

Not the killings that I still do, but the shit with my mother is out there and it will have to be enough, for now.

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