When her husband started to experiment on Irena, their children were the very young ages of four and two. They were precious and lovely and everything the woman had ever hoped they would be. The boy was lanky and energetic, oftentimes very difficult to keep up with. His sister was more on the relaxed side, though she was a tad bit more emotional than her big brother. The two of them fought frequently, as was expected with family of any sort.
When the experiments started, so too did the careful coordination of handwritten journals. When the young mother had started the writings, it was as an afterthought. She wrote whenever things were particularly painful or stressful or maddening. Over dollar store journals in the dead of night with only a small bedside lamp to illuminate the frantically flowing scratch of her pen. It was never meant to be a rebellion, only an outlet.
Yet by the time she got to the twelfth book, they had become something of a desperation. She needed to feel as though somebody in the world would hear her plea. Anyone at all. She scribbled with achy hands and her eyelids would draw heavy without warning. She pushed her long, sunflower yellow locks from her face and sucked in a very slow breath to study herself.
If she did not hide the journals, it was certain that Melkior would destroy them. So, she hid the journals in a place she knew nobody would ever think to look.
Irena had made it a point throughout the series of experiments to be the absolute most agreeable subject she could be. She kept her mouth shut and tried to follow every direction exactly as it was spoken to her. She had never once complained of the pain or of the discomfort. Not a single sound. She feared a sound of complaint would irk Melkior and he may go back on their promise and she simply could not have it. Their children were healthy and strong- she felt it was her duty as their mother not to jeopardise them.
Years drew on as their children flourished nicely. Melkior was ever proud of the strength of his son and the intellect of his daughter. He had started lessons gearing them to take over the business but made sure to secure time for fun and games in their youth.
Irena held tight to the fondest of memories in her mind even as her body started to fall apart and she grew terribly sick.
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One morning, the whole family had gotten prepared for a secret outing which Melkior had kept his lips drawn tightly shut about. None of them had any idea what they were to be doing or for how long.
"Where are we going, pabbi?"
Melkior ruffled his hand through the boy's blonde waves and then ushered him back towards his bedroom to be dressed. Irena was occupied braiding Asia's long hair back to keep it out of her face and picking a warm hat that would still match her outfit.
"Grab one of your coats and some warm shoes. Go!"
Melkior's tone was firm but not angry as he instructed the boy. His son sighed in exasperation, stretching his tanned arms out in frustration in front of him. Irena smiled to herself, putting the beanie on her daughter's head and gesturing for the girl to judge her handiwork in the mirror.
"What do you think, little drottning?"
The girl blinked her large baby blue eyes at herself in the mirror and then nodded to her mother in approval. Irena kissed the girl's forehead and the both of them left the bathroom to rejoin with the boys.
When Melkior inspected the both of them and was satisfied with their warmth and readiness, he gestured for Irena to take his hand before leading his family through the home to the helicopter. Irena noted quickly enough that they were headed towards the mainland, just north of their private island and her curiosity was brewing.
Her thoughts of possible locations were interrupted by the soft circles her husband traced on her hand. She scanned his face for a few moments and found nothing but a gentle calm evident in him. Upon realising it was a simple act of affection, a light pink tinged her cheeks and she pulled her jacket up so it covered her ears more closely.
When the helicopter dropped them off in Reykjavik, Irena became very perplexed. They had no family in this part of Iceland and she was unfamiliar with what sort of tourist attractions were present there. It wasn't until the cab turned into the parking lot that she finally understood.
Adriel hopped out of the car first, long legs racing towards the front gates as his sister tried to follow after him. Melkior beamed brightly at his children's excitement before turning and putting an arm around his wife's shoulder.
"They've never been to the zoo before, and Adriel starts basic biology next lesson."
Irena nodded in contentment as she planted a quick kiss on her husband's cheek.
"They're going to love it, darling."
Melkior smiled at her and a tinge of some dark emotion flickered in his stormy blue eyes. Irena wasn't sure what manner of emotion it was and she looked at him with a confused deer-in-headlights stare until he shook his head and hugged her tightly to him.
"I was hoping you'd love it too."
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Entry 237 - January 16th
The last experiment was a success, so he tells me. He seems very excited by the progression of one of the gene chords. Something or other about the "growth of the cells" or the advancement of the gene's natural dominance. I hardly understand a word of it. Dr. Saliba pulled me aside in the laboratory with some concerns about the fluid rushing to my heart and the strain on my nervous system. I don't think Melkior has realised there was a fluke in the process yet, he hasn't been home since the last round of tests and I've yet to muster the energy to call him.
My chest burns if I breathe too deeply and I've coughed up my own blood on several occasions. The blood isn't clotted so Dr. Saliba says there could be hope for me to recover, but he cannot look me in the eyes when he says it. Miss Polson has to tend to most of the chores and meals on her own now. Some days I cannot pull my body from bed and even if I do, I cannot do any activities which will increase my heart rate past one hundred without suffering a terrible heartburn and dizzy spells.
Asia's sixteenth birthday just passed and for it she wants to go on a trip to America. She is a fan of their action films and there's a convention in California she's very excited about. Melkior agreed, granted that her older brother goes with her to keep her safe. Adriel doesn't care for their movies, but he's agreed to go anyway. What a handsome young man he's turning into, his aunties all gush about it when he visits and they joke that he is just as charming as his father was. I worry what trouble he will find for himself to pass the time in California, but he's a smart boy, I have no doubt he will become something very wonderful.
The children are starting to suspect something is amiss. Asia asks in hushed whispers about the sunken nature of my cheeks and the sounds she hears late at night when she ought to be sleeping. This is the both the blessing and the curse of my gene. Asia has never seen me ill before, because this gene protects me from all ailments. I've never suffered a cold or influenza, never become sickened or weak. This is what Melkior wants to replicate, only, in his search to do so, he is destroying my body.
Asia cannot tell whether they are sobs or vomiting she hears at night- I haven't the heart to tell her it is both. I think she already knows something is gravely wrong. I've yet to tell her or my husband for that matter- but I'm fairly certain I'll be dead by coming spring. The flowers are so lovely that time of year and it is my greatest regret that I will not make it to welcome them.
I want their last moments with me to be happy ones, the happiest that I can give. I still play the piano for Adriel on Sundays if I am able. He never mentions it when I miss our little tradition, but whenever I cannot manage to get up from bed, he sets a flower on my bedside table. Last Sunday, it was a satin flower.
I couldn't stop crying.
Melkior, how desperately and foolishly I love you.
Irena Alvarsson
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