"Good morning, sir," I said to the head physician of the infirmary.
"Ah, it's the tiny professor," he said. I'm 4'9" now, you should know better than me.
"I'm here for my records," I said, and he nodded.
"I'll get them for you," he said, standing up. "You should visit more often. We could use the skills of a platinum," he added, going through the cupboards filled with files.
"I'll try," I replied.
"This is yours," he said, handing the file over to me. "You still won't do the checkup?"
"I'll do it later," I said, flipping through the file.
"That's what you said last time," he remarked, taking his seat.
I went through the file and saw my height listed there. My eyes widened as I stared at the number.
"This… the height, it's wrong," I said, showing it to him.
"It is?" he said, looking at it. "No, that's correct," he confirmed. There's no way. I'm 4'9"—that's what I've believed for a long time.
"Can I redo it?" I asked, and he nodded.
I took off my shoes and stood beside the measuring meter. He marked it and wrote it down before handing the paper to me.
"I'm so sorry for the mistake. I thought you were 4'6"," he said. That can't be true—I can't be… How could he even assume that I'm 4'6"? That's just mean.
"I'd like to check my weight as well," I said, and he nodded, gesturing to the scale.
I did what I came for and took a copy of my records with me. I left feeling dejected. I'm even more grateful to Teon for the heeled boots now than I was before; I don't want those assumptions ever again.
I walked into my lab and dropped the paper in the corner, then got to work, using my notes as a reference for every step I took.
…
I stretched, staring at the bottle in front of me. I wasn't sure how to feel. My hard work over many years was finally completed. I just stared at it, letting the feeling of achievement wash over me.
The Drityl worked just as I expected it to. I was really happy when I got the expected outcome, but that wasn't enough. It's one thing to do everything by the book and another for it to work as expected.
If I'm being honest with myself, I'm really scared. I'm worried that it won't work. I'm scared that, like before, the treatment will only bring my death closer and make it more painful.
I carried the bottle, feeling myself hesitate. I felt like dropping it, like giving up, but I couldn't afford that—not now.
The sound of the door opening stopped me from drinking the contents of the bottle. I turned and saw my worst nightmare standing at the door with an innocent smile.
"Hi," she said. I dropped the bottle on the table and stood up quickly.
"Don't act that way; I'm just here to talk," Eris said.
"What do you want?" I asked quietly.
"I was worried you were dumb, so you can speak," she said, stepping forward. "Why did you run away? We were being so nice to you," she said, but I didn't respond. "Because of you, my brother got in trouble," she continued, but my mind was on how to escape. "What will we do about that?"
"Why won't you stay still? I'm trying to make you look pretty. What will we do about that?"
It's the same—then, now, it's the same. I have my chance of survival right in front of me. I worked nonstop for the two weeks since I came back for this. I won't throw it away.
"I'm talking to you," Eris shouted, and I flinched, taking a step back. Tyler's supposed to be outside. Did she do something to him?
"This is why you shouldn't like anything more than me."
"You're coming with me, and for your information, I was against it," she said.
"I'm not going anywhere," I muttered inaudibly.
"Huh? I didn't hear you," she said, stepping closer.
"I said, I'm not going anywhere," I repeated louder, moving as fast as I could to grab the bottle, but I wasn't fast enough to get past her. She grabbed me by my hair and pulled me back.
"Where do you think you're going?" she whispered in my ear. I struggled to free myself, but it was pointless. "Stop wasting your time," she said, tightening her grip on my hair.
I kicked her leg, and she let go, shouting. Thank you, Teon, for these heeled boots. I ran fast to the door, but she was faster and grabbed my hair again.
"How dare you hit me?" she shouted. "I'm trying hard not to hurt you, but here you are pushing me against the wall," she said, and I could guess what would come next. She turned me and gripped my neck, letting her sharp nails dig into my skin.
"Listen to me. You'll do as I say, and I'll try to be patient, but I always get my revenge," she threatened. I held the bottle tightly as my eyes landed on the bottles of poison that I hadn't discarded.
"Let go," I said in a choked voice.
"We're leaving. I don't want Brother to get in any more trouble. All this is because Big Brother thinks you're useful; otherwise, you'd be dead by now," she said, pushing me aside. I made sure to land on my elbow so that the bottle wouldn't break.
"No matter what, I'm not going anywhere," I said. When you're looking death in the eyes, it's hard not to feel determined. I'm so scared. I want nothing more than to run, but she's blocking my path. Should I do it?
"You seem to be high on something today," she said, laughing. "I could accidentally break your legs; Brother will understand," she smiled, and I moved away from her.
I looked at the bottle in my hand and back at her. I'm not sure how my body will react if I drink this. I can't afford to pass out now. I forced myself up, feeling determined to get away no matter what. If I get caught, what's the point of everything I've worked hard for?