My name is Twenty-Seven.
I'm not supposed to exist.
What happened was, at least from what I understand, they gave some kind of magical what-do-you-call-it to an ape, and I was created. A little girl. They called me a "human", gave me a number so they could tell me apart from one of the other creatures, and put me in a cage. It was big enough for me to move around, and they gave me food and water. Well, they must have, anyways, because I'm alive right now.
I don't remember much from before the seven year mark, just flashes of feeling, like the surprise and fear of suddenly existing when I didn't before, and the gentle, warm feeling of the magic coming from their horns lifting me up and putting me in my cage. The cold, hard feel of the cage against my skin. I also remember how bright it was there. Everything was blindingly white, and I remember keeping my eyes closed a lot.
After the seven year mark, they didn't have enough room for all the "experiments" as they called us. Me and all the creatures they had tested things on. There was one last week there in the first place, then they loaded some of us, including me, onto a platform with wheels and had us carted off to another place. The lock on my cage was loose, and when they stopped for some reason, I slipped out and ran. My legs were wobbly from never running or walking much ever, but I just kept moving and I was long gone by the time they ran out to see what the others were all wailing about.
We hadn't left the city, so I just ran along the edge of the city, where no one walked, and hid in the dark space between two buildings. For a long while after I escaped, they looked for me, patrolling the streets and asking all the normal creatures walking along the streets if they'd seen a creature walking on two legs, skin that looked almost silver when the light shone on me just right, no fur, and hair on its head blacker than thunderclouds? Not a single one said yes. Every time I heard one say no, they hadn't, I smiled a tiny secret smile. They would never find me here. I was free.
The thing about being free, though, is that I was often very lonely. There wasn't much to do except scavenge for things to eat and think. And when I think, I think about everything they said about me before I freed myself and never had to hear them again.
'Accident'
'Unplanned magical reaction'
'Unnatural'
From the way they were saying those words, I could tell they weren't supposed to be nice. I know I look weird, I've seen my reflection sometimes. I don't have fur like the normal creatures do, I walk on two legs instead of four, I don't have a horn or wings, and I'm not even strong like "earth pony scum".
But I don't think it's about all that. There's not one creature here like me. I think what they were trying to do was make a normal creature like the ones I see outside where it isn't dirty and dark. Sometimes I see smaller ones walking with the bigger ones, laughing and smiling.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I was a normal creature, with fur and a horn and four legs to walk on. Would I be loved? Would one of the nice ones take care of me? I've seen them together. They love each other.
I know for a fact they wouldn't love me.
Maybe I could teach myself to make sounds that they'd understand, and beg them to fix me. Then one of the normal creatures would take care of me, love me. I wouldn't have to live where it's dirty and dark. I could have a home, and smile all day long.
I try to make the sound "they". It comes out "tee". I can't even make them understand me. My face begins to feel wet, and my eyes and nose burn. I sit down and awkwardly swipe at my eyes. There. It's a little better.
I sit there for a while, thinking of other ways to speak. Then I remember seeing some of the normal creatures gathered in groups with one of them holding a bunch of papers hooked together in their glow. They say that the article "said" something.
Said.
I can make an article. The article would tell them that I was sorry for running away, but I just couldn't take it anymore. I would say that if they could make me into a normal creature, then I wouldn't disobey them ever again. They had to agree to that.
I find some paper in the green box where I find food sometimes. It already has ink all over it, but I'll just have to write extra dark. I also find a "quill" that the normal creatures use to write, and steal some black stuff they dipped the quill thingy in and wrote the letters.
Once I've gathered all these things, I sit down and do my best to write what I want to tell them. That I was sorry, and I would like them to fix me. Once I've done that, I add that I'm sorry there were other marks all over it.
I take it and start walking to the first place. They'll fix me now. I won't be an accident anymore.
I will be loved. I will. They have to fix me. I can't go back here, not when I'm so close to being normal and loved.
This has to work.
