malaki-boden // d8 // fin

Sometimes I don't feel human. An illogical feeling, really. I've got guts and bones and blood just like everybody else. I even tested all parameters to make absolutely certain. (And so that Tavi might leave me alone.) But even with a scar upon my palm and my arm in a sling, I still feel a bit out of place among my peers. I have considered the possibility that the problem does lie within my internal organs, but I am drifting further from wanting to uncover that truth the more Madison insists she be part of the experiment.

So then it is something else entirely that makes me different from everyone else. From what I've been able to deduce, it's emotion. Smiling, laughing, crying, scoffing, yelling. But those simply appear on the surface—surely that can't be the key to humanity?

I wish I had information on my past, where I came from, what my parents were like. Perhaps genetics is all it takes to determine who we are? No, that can't be. My parents live here. My friends live here. We may not share biological coding, but the reason I love music is because Eve plays so beautifully and the reason I despise cake is because Tavi once covered a slice in salt and convinced me that was simply how cake was meant to taste. We're built out of guts and bones and blood and DNA, but still there is so much more to it than that.

The thoughts wrack my brain, keeping me awake until the sun rises and its rays stretch across my room. I spend countless nights like this. Typical behavior for me, strange to the other residents here. My brain simply has a difficult time switching off it seems. I suppose that is one thing I find myself enjoying. Thinking. Then again, I'm not smiling so am I really enjoying myself? What does enjoyment mean? How do I know if I am having it?

Perhaps it would be best to observe. Yes. Surely that will lead me to a logical conclusion. Even without the proper amount of sleep I find myself ready for the day, a renewed vigor in my steps as I dress myself hurriedly. I don't want to miss any information that may be important. This could help me solve my mystery!

Though I don't want to be the cause of any accidents either. So when my bedroom door flings open, followed closely by a solid thud and startled screech, I find myself immediately regretting this endeavor. I hide myself within the collar of my sweater, a stuttering apology escaping me.

"S-Sorry!" I step through the doorway, unsure whether she'll actually want my help off the floor or not. "Are you alright? H-here let me help you-"

Past experience dictates that the expression on her face is annoyance. Though I can't be certain as she clasps a bloody nose. A shiver runs down my spine as I bury my face further beneath my shirt.

"Why don't you watch what you're doing ya fucking twerp!" It appears Madison truly does only have one tone. Loud and sharp.

"M-my apologies. Please, let me assist you. You're holding your nose incorrectly."

"I shouldn't fucking have to be holding it all! Shit, w-what if it's broken?"

I shake my head.

"I don't believe so. But- may I inquire how your face got so close to my door?"

It seemed to be relevant information to prevent further injuries in the future. I thought it would require only a simple answer, but she's hurrying to her feet and avoiding eye contact. It's rather strange behavior for someone who is usually so forward. Perhaps it's beneficial to ask about that as well.

"May I also inquire what you're feeling right now? I'm trying to better understa-"

A clap on my shoulder catches me off guard, sending me stumbling forward. "Ah, that's embarrassment, Kiibs! Looks like Madi's a peeping Tom!" I make a mental note that both Caelum and Madison are very loud individuals before his statement comes full round in my mind.

"Thank you, Caelum, but how can she be Tom? Her name is Madison."

She's spitting in Caelum's face before he gets the chance to answer, leaving me alone with my own thoughts once more as they disappear down the hallway. If everyone wasn't already awake, they certainly were now. That might prove beneficial to my work; I prefer an optimistic outlook on life.

I begin making my way slowly down the hall, peeking into open rooms and averting my gaze where intimidating stares greet me. I'm thankful they are few and far between. Eve greets me from her room with a warm smile, I retreat beneath my shirt collar again. I don't think I'm learning too much, though Henry says I look happier than I usually do. I'm uncertain how he came to that conclusion as there is no real evidence to suggest I'm acting any different than usual, but it does make me feel better about coming out from beneath my shirt.

These are the only people I've ever had or known. It sits best with me to assume the best of them—even if it is illogical.

The smallest of smiles pulls at the corner of my lips.

I suppose I am human.