Celestia's P.O.V.

It was like a dream - the turmoil of my soul, the bitter anger, all drowned out by overwhelming defeat. I wanted to scream, to fight back and reject the torment forced upon me.

But I couldn't. I was powerless. Hopeless. My thoughts unknown and uncared for, my body like a commodity - significant enough to be used, insignificant enough to be discarded at the end of each session.

While my will sank, I exerted what little control I could, ignoring the stinging pain as I bit down on my lip, the metallic taste of my own bitter helplessness greeting my tastebuds while the needle pierced my skin.

My mind followed the burning substances path through my body, tracing the map of destruction it left behind. Poison wasn't gentle on the body, nor the soul. But I endured it, for I didn't have a choice, my hands clenching and my lip bleeding. What a joke I was.

I wanted it all to stop, but it wouldn't. The weight in my chest, the tears in my eyes that no one would ever care about. Was this worth ruining myself over? I suppose, considering the only way forward was to partake, for I'd die quicker from starvation.

When the pain mostly diminished, I allowed my eyes to flutter open, only to be greeted by the pleasant sight of the other women around me, in the trials just as I was.

Some were further gone than others, nearing the inevitable day on which they would be wheeled away and disposed of like a bag of trash.

They were bound down, just like me, their faces all exhibiting the same lifeless expression. They were all loosing themselves, just as I was - their will broken long ago. Defeated.

Broken. A normality that anyone sane would have rejected. But those times were long past - the times where anyone could stand up and fight back without being forced into submission.

I wanted to be cared about, to be loved. I wanted a man who would treat me like I was the best thing that had ever happened to him, like I was the reason he lived and breathed. Like without me he would be lost and life would become meaningless.

But I wasn't naive enough to think these fantasies would ever be the case. I wasn't naive enough to believe a man would want me as anything more than a warm body or a trophy to show off.

I was thankful that I wasn't one of the women who would die within a short period of time from the toxicity of the experiments. But simultaneously, I wondered why I wanted to bother continuing living - especially if this was my life.

I looked to Dr. Lethbridge as he rubbed a purple liquid onto the opening in my skin, where the large needle had once been, and he met my gaze with an apologetic expression.

I knew his care for me wasn't real - he simply wanted me around for whenever he wanted me, as was our agreement - my life in return for his fantasies fulfilled.

After a moment, I could feel the purple liquid setting, and I watched it for what felt like the millionth time. In reality, it probably was.

It turned to a lightly tanned colour, matching my arm and blending in like a second skin, almost feeling like one too. I looked away, the fear of all the unknowns creeping into my mind.

My senses were greeted with nauseousness - as always, my body was telling me I needed to get that stuff out of and off of me. I cringed slightly as I heard a woman scream while Dr. Lethbridge injected her with the standard treatment dose.

The neon green colour alone should have been enough to deter any potential subjects. I mean, how stereotypical was that indication of toxicity? But people were desperate for the money these experiments provided, myself included.

The stare he gave her was demeaning, like the value she held was completely nonexistent, as she started cussing him out. Surprisingly though, he had no reaction. In the end however, maybe that made it worse.

He always kept my doses down just enough that I would remain alive, and while I didn't like our deal, for whatever reason I valued living, which allowed me to convince myself that it was okay in the end.

Hence why I was still here, after six years of getting the unknown chemicals injected into me. Otherwise, I'd probably be dead, like most the rest of the test subjects eventually end up.

He walked back to me, noticing that the liquid slime had set. With an approving nod, he undid the clasps to the binds holding me down.

Technically, we were here willingly, so the binds weren't necessary. But for some reason, some people got a little angry during the injections.

Perhaps the chemicals altered their emotions, or maybe it was simply the pain and the knowledge of where they where and what they were doing that enraged them.

I sat up, rubbing my cold arms as I slid off the bed to pick up my coat, watching the previously risen hairs flatten temporarily while my thin fingers slid over the goosebumps.

I felt dizzy, wobbling slightly, but I always did after the slime and injections, so I knew to give myself a moment and that it would pass.

I grasped the side of the bed for balance, taking a deep breath. My eyes slid across the room once more and I saw the previously cussing lady being bagged up.

My heart sank. She was dead.

"Goodbye, Lea." Dr. Lethbridge said, smiling at me. "I'll see you tomorrow." He continued, passing me my bag. "I can't wait."

I gave a quick smile paired with a nod before I walked away. Once my back was turned to him, I fought a grimace. I mean, if Dr. Lethbridge were twenty.. Better yet, thirty years younger, I wouldn't mind as much... probably.

But, he wasn't. He was old, perverted. Thinking of him made my stomach churn in a sickly way, moreso than the chemicals he injected me with and the slime he rubbed onto me.

When I arrived home I opened the door and saw my roommate, Caylie. I never got to know her all too well, because I was always too busy - or at least that's what I told myself.

Primarily, I didn't want to risk trusting her and getting hurt. Whether from her generally hurting me, or from her inevitably dying.

Maybe that wasn't a good enough reason and perhaps it would benefit me to be a little less lonely, but I was scared of taking that step.

"Hey gurl." I smiled, raising a brow at her skimpy dress.

"I'm going to a club. Wanna come?" Caylie asked upon seeing me.

I paused for a moment, then shook my head and replied, "I probably shouldn't. I have a lot to do."

She nodded with a sigh. "You know, I've probably invited you to about a million things by now and every time you always say you're busy. I've been your roommate for two years now and I still barely know you. I really would have liked to be your friend, but it's obvious you don't want the same, so don't worry about it. I'll stop bugging you."

I opened my mouth to retort, but I realized she was right. I was always pushing her aside for no good reason. We had hung out a few times before, even gave each other nicknames, but it was rare nonetheless.

"Okay, one sec. It'll take me a minute to get ready. Are we taking a cab?" I asked, walking towards my room.

"Wait, you'll come?" She asked, her features lighting up in excitement.

"Course I will, Lee." I replied, smiling.

Well, in reality, the of course in my answer wasn't all too accurate given I usually said no, but maybe this was the beginning of it being true.

She jumped up and down like a toddler that was just given permanent access to candy, and then rushed to her room. "I have the perfect dress for you. Oh, and, I'll do your makeup too!" She squealed, giggling.

I couldn't help but smile at her happiness, as she dragged me along with her, running into her closet and rummaging through her clothes. She then pulled out a nude coloured dress, shoving it into my arms and pointing to the bathroom.

I went to go change in the bathroom, grabbing the dress first. It had been a long time since I'd worn one and it felt nice, though different.

The dress was low cut at the top, curving downwards and stopping just above my breasts, showing a large amount of exposed skin, but still keeping me adequately decent.

The bra was built in, set so that it pushed up slightly. The dress was tight, form-fitting, held up by three straps which crisscrossed on either side, each leaving one strap to cut across my shoulders to either side.

The back was low cut, reaching down in an oval shape with thin straps crisscrossing all the way to the small of my back.

The skirt of the dress continued from there to just above the floor and then came up slowly in a curve to the front so that the front of the dress reached just below my knees.

The colour wasn't glossy, instead it looked like it had been dusted in a light brown eyeshadow, giving it a dusky matte look.

I noticed she had also passed a pair of high heels that's colour perfectly matched that of the dress. Stylish, but perfect for someone who didn't want to look like they were purely there to find a hookup.

When I was finished dressing I called to Caylie and she walked into the bathroom, gasping when she saw me.

"Damn gurl, I better fuck up your makeup, or you're gonna look better than me." She giggled, paired with a ridiculous cat whistle.

I laughed, blushing slightly. I never dressed up, primarily because I couldn't afford the things one would dress up in, or the places one would go once dressed up - nor did I feel safe enough to go to those places alone. But it felt nice.

Caylie smiled, leading me to her makeup area and telling me to sit - so I sat. She fiddled around with the drawers to the makeup dresser thing, pulling out all sorts of cosmetics, until she had a hefty stack of poison waiting for her to torture me with.

I obediently waited as she took some sort of liquid that was skin coloured, bottled in what looked like a hand sanitizer container.

"It's way past the point people carry those around, Lee." I said, laughing slightly as I remembered the classes that had been taught on what happened so long ago.

The people who actually went through it were long gone by now, which was unfortunate since I would have loved to have heard the stories straight from those who actually experienced it.

Caylie rolled her eyes at my immaturity, squirting the nearly solid liquid onto a sponge-like thing.

"A sponge?" I asked.

Caylie shook her head. "No, it's different, special." She replied with a laugh.

I bit my lip, trying to hide my giggle, as I asked, "Did you kill Spongebob with hand sanitizer and then steal a piece of him?"

Caylie tilted her head. "You remind me of a child, Lea."

She then continued her work and I shivered slightly as the cool liquid was spread across my skin, a foreign but kinda nice sensation.

I shrugged slightly and answered, "I mean, you are way old enough to be my mom, so compared to you, yeah, I guess I am sorta a child."

Caylie looked at me, a shimmer of amusement evident on her features as she shook her head and answered a moment later, "I'm only thirty six."

"Which is eighteen years older than me. Sorry, but that is old enough to be my mom." I replied as she took another brush and rubbed it into a somewhat dark brown colour, before lightly swiping at my cheeks with it.

"Your skin is flawless." Caylie smiled.

"Thanks?" I replied awkwardly.

"I'm just putting some blush on." Caylie informed me, as another brush with a rosy pink colour on it tickled my skin, spreading the strange stuff on.

Then, she pulled out a skin coloured powder and I raised a brow at the brush she held in her hand. Why in the world was she putting skin powder on my face with a paintbrush?

"You're gonna use a paintbrush on my face? I don't think I signed up to be a canvas..." I said hesitantly.

She laughed, shaking her head and then twirling the brush in the powder. This time, she didn't bother answering my question and instead we sat quietly for a moment before I broke the silence again.

I don't know what prompted me to speak such dumb words - what force allowed me to trust her. Perhaps the euphoric feeling of finally connecting with someone, the dopamine allowing me to be happy.

"I think we're all screwed." I sighed quietly.

Caylie frowned as she picked up a pencil and removed its cap, revealing a pinkish colour, a bit darker than the stuff she previously placed on my cheeks.

"Why would you say that?" She asked.

As Caylie ran the tip of the pencil over the edges of my lips, I paused my talking, waiting for her to finish, before I continued.

I was nervous, but even though we'd hardly interacted in the past, I felt a bond with the women before me. And I felt like I could, for once in my life, be honest.

"Because, all you have to do is look around, Lee. You can see how fucked we are with a simple glance at the surroundings. It's a miracle we have lasted this long." I sighed.

Caylie nodded in understanding and I looked down as she grabbed what looked like a deodorant container with a dark pink colour in it.

"I don't understand how people can charge so much for basic items. Pencils, sponges, hand sanitizer bottles filled with goop, deodorant..." I said as I laughed quietly, attempting to change the subject I had just brought up as fear of what she may think arose in me.

Caylie shook her head at me, smiling as she rubbed the stuff onto my lips. Then, she took a small brush and quietly told me to close my eyes, before I felt the brush on my eyelids.

"What were things like when you were a child? Had the world changed much from when you were around to when I was around? Or did the eighteen years not really make a difference?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me, overpowering my fear.

I heard the change in her tone, the sadness creeping in as she answered me. "Things were a bit better, Lea. But its always been desolate. Compared to how it was, at least."

I tilted my head, but Caylie grabbed my chin and undid the tilt, before continuing her work. "The photos of the old world were destroyed, except for five that I know of, which were handed down through the generations of my family."

"Really?" I asked.

Caylie nodded. "When my father had five children, he gave us each one photo, a reminder. They used to be my mothers, handed down to her from her parents, which had been handed down to them from their parents."

Caylie sighed, pausing to fumble with another container. "As each generation passed, there were fewer photos, until all that was left were mine, my three brothers, and my sisters."

"So do all of you still have the photos?" I questioned.

Caylie ran a cool liquid across my eyelids, almost in my eyelashes, to the sides of my eyes. "When my brothers were executed, their photos went with them."

"Oh..." I didn't know what to say.

I had no idea her brothers were dead, but at the same time, I also didn't know she had ever had brothers. I was surprised that she was sharing details about something so dangerous, but also happy to learn.

"Thank god the government hadn't found them though, or my sister and I would have been executed as well, under the presumption that we too were defying the governmental rules." Caylie said, before telling me to open my eyes.

She then took a weird tube with a spiky thingy and ran it through my eyelashes, coating them in a black liquid. It felt weird and I scrunched up my face for a moment in disapproval.

Caylie rolled her eyes, a small smile on her face before she continued. "I still have mine. I can show you if you like, but you must promise to not tell anyone."

My face lit up at the idea of seeing what was now referred to as the old world. All I had heard were stories told in hushed whispers.

"Yes, please! I would love that!" I replied, excited at the very concept of it.

Caylie smiled brightly, opening a small tube that was pinkish. She then squeezed the sides and ran it along my lips before she explained how to effectively spread the colour.

I rubbed my lips together awkwardly and she laughed lightly, before grabbing a hair curler and weaving it through my locks individually until they fell in soft waves.

Caylie then took my hand and led me to the full-length mirror. My eyes widened at my reflection, an odd feeling coursing through me.

"Wow, you are stunning. Absolutely stunning." Caylie gasped beside me.

I couldn't disagree and something lit up inside me, as I for once considered myself beautiful.

"Thank you, Lee. This is... Amazing. You are amazing. I can't believe how well you did everything." I told her, smiling a genuine smile for the first time in quite awhile.

She smiled in return, before turning and opening a makeup container.

"I thought we were done?" I questioned.

Caylie pulled out the tray of colours, allowing me to see that underneath something was wrapped in tissue paper.

"We are." She replied.

She removed it delicately and gazed at the photo before her. She spoke to me as she slowly stepped forward and I could feel the longing in her voice.

"I'm the last one with a picture. My sister had children and decided it was too much of a risk. So she burned it. I wish she had given it to me, but she said she wouldn't help me get myself killed." Caylie said quietly.

She then passed the photograph and I gasped in awe. It was amazing, the true personification of beauty, so contrary to how things are now.

I looked back at her and was at a loss for words. I barely knew her, despite having lived with her for so long, and yet she trusted me enough to show me this.

Caylie smiled, taking the photo back and then walking to her purse. She picked it up and then tucked the picture under her shirt.

"Lets go." Caylie said.

I followed, breathing in the dense thick air and wondering what it was like back then. The photo showed the sky, so clear and blue, the grass a striking green, the trees and water, the flowers... everything looked beautiful.

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