Charleston NeuroscienceExpiriment Hall Open House
All Ages Welcome; Kid Friendly!
Join the raffle to find out if you can be our next success!
Come from 2:30~11:45 @ East Caverns Park next to new solar field
The kid friendly part nearly killed Miles. It was anything but. He had seen it before in his omen. There were bodies everywhere, including the waiting room. And now they wanted to go public? They wanted to lure their next lab rats or rather-- victims to their hoax staged to be "a rare gift from the Government". Miles re-folded the flyer and tossed it onto his backpack. Then he looked around, examining the work that he had gotten done so far. With little to nonthing in his suitcase, he had quite the packing to do. Exasperated, he gained his feet and expanded his back and shoulder muscles as far as they could go and until they started to tremble. It felt as if he had been staring at that stupid peice of paper for hours.
What he needed was an intermission from all of the premature stress, andhis bedroomwindow couldn't even give him that. It only reminded him of how much time he and Miranda had to pack everything that they felt was absolutely necessary as well as the new enviornment he'd sleep in for the next month or so, or until they reached East Caverns Park. He was desperate for an oasis, so he headed to Miranda's room.
"How's it goin'?" he asked while roaming into and around the room.
"I'm nervous as hell, couldn't keep breakfast down, and not even sure what foods and necessities to pack. It's going better than expected," she replied, folding up his dad's blue tarps.
"Need help?" Frankly, it was a stupid question, especially when he knew that it was obvious and he hadn't even finished himself.
He gathered the random food items that were sprawled across her bed and zipped them into a large backpack, then assisted her in folding two enormous covers into a small enough cube that could be fitted into a suitcase. Thank goodness, after the daunting tasks, they were done. With the saftey and nutrition items. Both collapsed down onto the now bare mattress, panting from exaughstion. "What are you most nervous about?"
"Seeing whatever you saw. Telling."
Telling. Miles could remember that too. His uncle had told some old collegues about the Expiriment Hall's illegal brain transferrance program and the whole company went on hiatus. As a punishment, all too disturbingly brutal, they cuthis dad's brotheropen right in front of his dad, grandmother, and aunt. It was terrible. He was a toddler at the time yet, by law, it was mandatory that he see the organs of his uncle get put into a rabbit's body, as a sign of weakness. Lest he forget the tears streaming down his uncle's face as the laboratory staffsliced the skin of his forehead. But this should never happen to anyone else after Miles reached his destiny. And if they were to get punished, he would be the scapegoat.
"You don't have to come," he warned her with a slight importunity. He could picture blood running down her freckles. God, no.
"No. I want to," she said. "You are not going to change my mind."
Miles sat up to look at her jaded, but ambitious, emerald eyes. He could see blood on that too. In a gravely ill-toned voice of tremulous anger and fear, he said, "You saw the pictures."
Miranda's eyes widened. She was white in the face. "What?"
"You saw the pictures of my uncle on the opperating table, didn't you?" For some reason, he couldn't contain it. But the rage boiled. His eyes were now focused on his knees, which draped over the edge of the bed.
"So why aren't you afraid! Why do you always want to tag along for the ride that just takes you further away from the gravvy train?! Do you not want to be normal?!" Miles was yelling now. His voice dived from anger to agony frequently, and those pools of blue started to leak. "You are a spoiled brat. You don't know how good you have it. You're alowed in the public even when it's not school, and even at school guys are all over you!"
Miles stood up, went up to face her, and leaned foward to get as close to kissing his half-sister as he possibly could. She stayed right in place, too sheepish to move a muscle and with her face wet with tears.
Miles' lips slowly inched apart and leaned a little closer to Miranda's, so that only a peice of paper could be slid between the pair. He was pratically hovering over her lower body just so he could be close to his liking.
With gushing emotion, Miles said again,
"You're a spoiled brat."
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