A/N: Hi guys! I hope you enjoy reading it and please let me know what you think of it! I really appreciate feedback.

Also, I started this thanks to SciKick who hosted a 2017 Sci-Fi contest.

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01 - 14 - 2089

Green. The color of trees. The color of plants, and all things living. The color of life itself. It embodies all other colors, enveloping our world. The color represents growth, new birth, and life. But to me, it means so much more.

Green--more specifically, spring green-- is my favorite color. And although I have never actually seen it, I have learned enough about the world to call it my favorite.

I hold my hand steady as I grip the stick of charcoal, drawing one more fluid line. I'm almost finished, just a few more strokes to make it perfect. With an image in my mind, I add a couple more precise lines to my drawing before setting down the charcoal pencil. I dust off my charcoal covered hands and step back, admiring my work. It's taken me several days to finish, but I'm completely happy with it.

Stretching across the smooth white wall of my room are branches upon branches filled with little charcoal birds and all kinds of animals. They all lead down to the main trunk of the tree, filled and shaded in with dusty black. It's a ghostly image, portraying a picture that I long to see.

A soft beep and click signals the unlocking of my door and someone entering. I hear the familiar soft padded footsteps as Doctor Acosta enters my small room.

"Gis, dear, I do believe that is your best one yet," she says, coming to stand beside me. I look up at her, used to feeling small as always. Doctor Acosta--and everyone else, for that matter-- is taller than me by at least a head. She always tells me that I'll hit my growth spurt soon, but I'm starting to feel like that won't ever happen. Perhaps I'll always be doomed to be a tiny, stick-like girl.

I shrug, dismissing her praise. She says that with each new drawing I make. I scan my eyes over the other three walls of my room, admiring my previous drawings, almost covering every bare inch of the walls. Soon I'll have to start drawing on the floors.

A grin comes to my lips as I imagine Doctor Acosta's white shoes gathering charcoal dust all over them. She'd be furious, that's for sure.

I bend down and finish packing away my charcoal pencils and sticks in my little grey, canvas container while Doctor Acosta waits patiently. I always know when she's coming, but I like to change things up once in awhile and make her wait. I don't get many choices in my small life so I like to take advantage of the ones I do get.

I tuck the grey bag at the corner of my square desk that rests next to my bed and glance around my room to make sure I gathered everything. Besides those items tucked into one corner, my room is completely bare. The walls, bed, and even the chair for the desk are white. Not to mention the toilet room that connects to my room is also white.

I decided long ago that white must be Doctor Acosta's favorite color, just like green is mine. Otherwise, why would so many things in this place be white? However, I wish I had the power to choose what color my room was. If I did, everything would be green, not white.

Once I'm finished cleaning up and getting distracted, I follow Doctor Acosta out of the room and past the auto doors that click shut behind me. We head down the white halls and past the guard station where two uniformed soldiers sit, playing cards. I watch them with mild interest until they are out of sight. I've always wondered how to play the game, but Doctor Acosta and the others have never offered to teach me. And even if they did, I don't have the cards to play with.

I stare at the back of Doctor Acosta's head where her deep, grey hair is pulled into a knot, finding it more interesting than the white walls that we pass. I fidget with a strand of my raven black hair, pondering how exactly Doctor Acosta knots her hair each morning. Perhaps she doesn't ever change it, and that's just how she always has it.

I don't get much time to finish that thought, for we arrive at Room E5, my testing room. I spend most of my time here if I'm not in my room. This is where I've had countless procedures and tests, all determining how my body runs and all that stuff that I don't quite understand.

Doctor Acosta holds open the door as I enter, then she follows behind. I immediately head towards the white table and sit on the edge. The room is almost twice the size of my own room, but it appears smaller because it's filled with lots of things. There are scientists at their own desks, while others man computers, all surrounding the bed--and me-- in the center.

I swing my legs back and forth, listening to the sound of my white pant legs as they swish together. The sound distracts me from the hundreds of others that fill the room. If I don't focus on just one thing, then I get overwhelmed with everything around me. Doctor Acosta taught me that. She said that it was one of the effects of my development. Something called hyperactivity, attention, something or other. I can't really remember, because I wasn't really paying attention.

A scientist approaches me, and I recognize him. His name is Barr and he is one of the nicer scientists. I stare at his crinkly eyes and heavy eyebrows as he pricks my arm and starts the intravenous drip. He tapes the needle down with ease and meets my eyes.

"How did you sleep?" Barr asks.

I shrug. "I never remember. I'm usually too asleep."

Barr laughs, a crystal clear sound that brings a smile to my lips. I'm not sure what I said, but I like when Barr laughs. It's one of the nicer sounds.

"Well, Gis, that's usually what happens when you go to sleep." He ruffles the hair on my head. "But I meant, do you feel like you are well rested?"

"Not really," I answer honestly. I know better than to outright lie. I used to do that when I was younger, but they didn't take too kindly too it. That's when they would bring out the verum depicter. And let me tell you, that thing is not fun. I still have nightmares from those days.

"Was it the new injection?" Barr asks, his eyebrows creasing in the middle. I tilt my head to the side, watching as the world changes from just that slight movement. It's quite unique how just a slight tilt of my head can cause everything to change for me. Everyone looks lopsided, even as they go about their business, preparing for whatever test they have planned for today.

"Gis?" Barr waves a hand in front of my face; I swat it away and lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"I don't know," I finally answer, wanting to just be done for the day so I can go back to drawing. It's the only thing that makes this all worth it. And the nice thing is that because I enjoy it so much, they give me all the drawing tools I could ever ask for.

Barr lets out an annoyed breath and backs away, giving up trying to interrogate me. He always tries to do it, and I always get bored with the conversation. Honestly, I'm surprised he still tries to do it after almost sixteen years of failed attempts.

I take a deep breath in and hold it, right before a nurse presses a mask over my nose and mouth. I like to stay awake for as long as I can so I can see what they are about to do. Unfortunately, I can only hold my breath for about a minute. Then I have to breathe in the anesthesia gas and go to sleep.

The nurse tries to get me to count backwards from one hundred for her. She must be new, because as all the other nurses know by now, I don't listen. If I count out loud, I'll have to waste my extra minute, and I don't see the point. I know how to count, so why does it matter?

I stare up at the faces that gather around me, seeing Doctor Acosta's, Barr's and several others who are new. Barr places heart monitors on my chest and brain monitors on my temples; they are cold, and I shiver. Doctor Acosta adjusts her headgear and glasses.

My lungs tighten; I'm running out of breath, with only a few seconds left. I take in as much as I can, seeing the shiny tools, the A-books in people's hands, and the focused faces. Then I can't hold out any longer.

I let out the carbon filled breath I was holding and allow myself to breathe deeply. Right away, my vision grows fuzzy and I lose myself to the darkness I have become so familiar with. The last thought that slips through my mind is that I hope they'll be quick with their procedure. I have a new drawing in mind that I can't wait to start.

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