The Experiment by Cassidy Shay (top non fiction books of all time TXT) 📕

The first disturbance comes two and a half weeks into my routine, when the Vipero outside the DarkRoom stops me. “Why haven’t you cooperates? Why do you insist on causing trouble for yourself?” I’m pushed into the room before I can react. When I sit on the chair, I hear a low hum.
The sound is old and forgotten, but familiar. I look to the walls and see two blue spots, illuminated by the electricity they contain. Next, I hear the mechanical whir as the blue spots come closer to me, their metal arms just as full of electricity. The familiar feeling of terror engulfs me, freezes me. Just like all those times before, I can’t move. My brain tells me to scoot the chair back to avoid them, but my body won’t obey.
When the arms finally reach me, I’m shocked at how painful it is. I never remembered if hurting so much. This pain is also different, like I’m being stabbed as well as electrocuted. The blue electricity seems to flow in my blood, cooking me from the inside out.
When the mechanical arms retract, I discover why the sensation had been so different. I feel blood running down my arm, and know that spikes are attached to the end of the prods.
I sit for a few minutes, applying pressure to stop the blood flow. When the crimson liquid stops, I take a few deep breaths.
Today, my drawing is just like the others, a glimpse at freedom or rebellion. My drawing is another reason why people are revolting.
When I’ve placed my paper on the red dot, I sit and wait. I still have over an hour, and I spend that time drawing smiley faces on a clean sheet of paper, slowly losing my mind.
Each day after that, I leave another piece of myself in that room as the spikes cut deeper and the electrical charge is held against my skin even longer.
Each day as I pick up Belle, Dr. Pender gives me a sad look, until eventually she can’t even meet my eyes.
Each night at dinner, Mathew asks me why I don’t just give in to them. “Pretty soon, you’ll need stitches, and you’re not yourself anymore. I wake up each morning terrified that this will be the last day, that you’ll go back to not saying a word. I can’t handle that. Why won’t you just give them what they want?”
“Why? To help them crush these people who only want freedom? To help people like your father destroy the hopes and dreams of millions of people?”
Since that day, all those weeks ago, when I met with the Warden, I’ve thought about the man on the screen. How he is not only the grandfather of my baby, the father of my first love, but also the father of my husband.
I haven’t said much to Mathew about it, though, because I know that he is ashamed to have any connection to a man like that. But tonight, as I spit the words at him, I see him crumble.
“I’m sorry, Mathew. But I can’t do it. I can’t let them win.” For the rest of the night, he doesn’t say a word to me. He takes Belle into her corner and plays with her as I sit and watch.
The next day, I know I’m forgiven because he gives me a kiss before heading off to work. When I drop Belle off with Dr. Pender, she stops me before I leave.
“Do you know what the day after tomorrow is?” I shake my head. “Belle’s fourth birthday. I want to have a little celebration for her, just a family thing. Is that okay with you?”
I nod. Dr. Pender and Julie have always helped me with Belle when I’ve failed to do my job completely. Like when I forget my own daughter’s birthday. Of course you can. I’ll see if Mathew can get the day off, and I might be able to also.” She just nods, and looks at my shoulders.
“I’m really sorry about this, Meagan,” she says. “I’ve tried to get them to stop, but they won’t listen to me. I’ve done everything I can. I don’t even know how they know that you know about the revolution. But they’re determined to break you. You better brace yourself, because it hasn’t even started yet.”
I walk to the DarkRoom on autopilot, only moving forward because of how familiar I am with the floor. I don’t know what I’m supposed to think. How much worse can it get?

When I greet the Vipero standing at the door, I ask if I can have a day off for Belle’s birthday. He reluctantly tells me that he’ll ask, and then pushes me into the room.
The next two days go by super quickly, and nothing happens. When I wake up on Belle’s birthday, I have a huge smile on my face.
“Happy birthday, Belle!” I say. I get up and start making scrambled eggs. When Mathew wakes up, he gives me a kiss on the cheek.
“Can you believe she’s already four?” he asks. I just shake my head. “That means it’s been almost five years since I’ve known you.” He looks me over. “You’re definitely not fifteen anymore.”
I don’t know if it’s a compliment of not, so I just give him an exhausted look. “I don’t feel fifteen anymore.” I lean against the counter for a minute. “Fifteen is way too young to have a baby.”
He nods, and for a moment he remains silent. Finally, he opens his mouth to speak. “Meagan, what do you think we’d be doing right now, if we weren’t here, if we weren’t Azuli?”
“I don’t know.” I move the pan off the burner, then go sit at the table. “I never lived out there long enough to find out what I like to do.” I take a deep breath. “But I’m not out there. I’m in here. And in here, I’m a mother, and a wife.”

My eyes shoot open, but then close again right away, all because of the pain.
Two years ago, when Dr. Pender warned me that the Academy was just getting started, I didn’t believe that they would actually increase the torture. Now, I know that she was right.
I’ve fallen out of the chair, am writhing on the ground. But the cattle prods that I had become so familiar with are now balls of spikes, attached to the wall by wires. The spikes remain attached to my arms, the electricity continues to fry me on the inside and the outside.
Finally, the flow of electricity is cut. The pain isn’t over yet, though. I try to relax the muscles in my arms, so that the spikes penetrating my skin will withdraw easily. That’s the problem with writhing on the ground, though. You’re tense, unable to relax for minutes after the pain has stopped. But they don’t give me minutes. The spikes cut my skin even more on the way out, and I gasp from the pain.
The door unlocks, but I can’t move across the floor and to my room. But even if I could move, I wouldn’t be allowed to. I have a visitor. The Warden throws open the door.
“Damn it, Meagan!” he yells. “Why do you keep doing this? Why can’t you just give us the information? I’m tired of having to clean your blood up off the floor.”
I manage to slowly move into a sitting position. For several minutes, I just look at him. He looks exhausted. It almost makes me smile. Riots have broken out on all of the floors. Even though they have no way of knowing about the revolution that’s threatening to come together, the Azuli are all able to sense that something is going on.
I think about what he said. I decide not to point out that I’m not willingly spilling my blood out on the ground, but instead, I ask him why he’s still after me.
“Why do you need me? The revolution is under control. It has been for a long time.” It wasn’t help from me that gave them the ability to control the riots and small battles. People were lost, and the remaining rebels went into hiding to regroup and recover so that they could have a stronger army once they have a leader.
They don’t know it yet, but that leader is only six years old. She’s playing with Aron right now, watched by Julie. They don’t know it yet, but that leader is the granddaughter of their enemy.
“They will not be contained for long,” says that Warden, cutting into my thoughts. “Soon, they will come back, stronger, more organized, and smarter. And that’s when we’ll need your help.”
I shake my head. “I won’t help you. I don’t know why I can’t get it through your head. Besides, I know that you really don’t care about the revolution’s outcome. I know that you disagree with the way that things are run. Why are you so desperate to get me to help you?”
I still don’t have enough strength to stand, but my eyes drill into his. He sighs, sits down in the chair. He puts his head in his hands and for a few minutes, he’s silent.
“They have my family. If I don’t get something useful out of you, they’ll… I don’t know what they’ll do. But we both know that it won’t be good.” I