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I squeeze my eyes shut and try to keep the bile from my throat. If I thought it would help, I would cover my ears, but there is nothing to keep the sounds from getting to me. I hear everything.
I hear when Jane offers Amelia a scalpel.
I hear the man’s skin being pulled apart.
I hear the wet splatter of god-knows-what.
And I hear Amelia giggling.
I remember the first time Jane showed me a person's insides. I cried until she slapped me across the face. I don’t think I’ve cried since then. I do remember that I used to be bothered by the blood, though.
But not Amelia.
Throughout the entire project, Amelia is fascinated. Happy. Whatever darkness is in me now was one born from circumstance. My lack of empathy is one instilled in me by necessity, and by Jane.
But not Amelia. Not Teddy.
Though she appears small and sweet, I am afraid she already has the same darkness that lives in Jane. Only time will tell.
