Aurora.
The young girl was now around nine or ten, and she was my spitting image. From her ratty hair to her pale skin, all the way down to the scars and markings on her flesh. She was me. I was her. But that’s not right. I wasn’t born, I was created. I wasn’t stolen or kidnapped, I was bred in a lab by mad scientists. How could this be? All my life, they told me what I was created for, why they made me, and what my purpose for being alive was. Am I supposed to believe that they lied?
“Hello, daughter of mine” that same voice chimed, only it wasn’t from the woman holding the child, it came from beside me. I snapped my eyes over my shoulder and jumped back. The woman was now standing next to me, but she was still sitting on the mattress as well. I flipped my head from the woman on the mat
