What luck!  Who’d have thought I’d find such a place!  Just the right size and so
near the ocean; water’s a little warm, but that’s OK.  *Sigh*  I wonder why my brothers and sisters haven’t found  this place yet?  I will have to tell them about it when I go for food, because there’s sure isn’t much to eat here.  Actually, there’s not much of anything here: no fish; no life.  Hmm. . . how odd. . .
    Huh?  what’s that?!  Light from under the water?!  It’s night, so it’s not the sun. . . false Light?!  Yaa!  Help, help!!  Put me down!!  What is this odd two-legged creature?!  I’m caught in a strange, woven pouch--like the one’s in the ocean that catch and take fish away, only smaller. . . Where are they taking me?!  Away from my home ocean and new pool?!  Into a huge structure with more false light from inside, and strange marks on it’s side. . . No!  Take me back!  Please. . .

     Ouch!  I wish They’d stop that!  Those sharp things hurt me, piercing my skin.  I’m becoming afraid.  Whatever They’re doing to me is causing . . . Changes.  They sure seem happy about it, though.  Those strange - what are they called?  Hue-mans?  I have a feeling the changes are from the sharp things.  They call them “Injections.”  What does that mean?  My metal holding box is getting to be too small again.  I’m bigger than anyone in my family now, I’m sure.  My body is different;  my legs are getting longer, and my front feet are changing, looking strange.  What did They say?  That I was “Developing th-thumbs.”?  What a weird word!  I can reach and grab things better now.  They were all excited today by “Hair growth.”
    When I touched the top of my head, I felt  something soft, and fine.  That must be “hair.”  Hair like Them. . .
    . . .Like Them. . .?
    Like Them!!  That’s what’s happening to me!  They’re making me like Them. . . Hue-man. . .
    Now I’m very scared!  Why is this happening?
    *Sob*
    I wanna go home. . .
    I want my mama. . .

     *Sigh*
     This is boring!  Why does it seem to thrill Them so?  Oh boy, another card. . .”Ball.”  Dr. Anderson looks so happy.  He looks like that a lot lately, since I started speaking.  He calls it “Verbal Communication,”  I call it a protest of pain.  My first word is recorded as “Ouch” which is what I uttered when I received my morning injection that day.  If Dr. Miller hadn’t been so rough. . .
     “Are you ready?”
     Next card, “Man.”
     “Very good!”
     *snicker* What a dork!

     “OK, let’s go.”
     Go?  Ow!  Let go!  I can walk ya know!  Oof!  Thanks a lot!  That Dr. Jackson is such a jerk!!
    Well. . . This room again.  All metal, with one mirror/window.  I wonder if They realize that stupid trick doesn’t work; I know They’re in there, watching me.  At least I can see what changes I’ve been going through.  I can walk like the humans, on two legs.  It’s actually easier than the way I used to get around.  In fact, my body is almost exactly like a humans, except for my tail, and green skin.  Now down to my shoulders, my hair is blonde and curly.
     “Hello there, Mona Lisa.”  That’s my name.  They say it’s because I’m Their “Work of art.”  *humph*  Yeah right.  I know what I look like, and that’s because of rooms like this.  I can see what a monster I am. . .
     “How are you today, dear?”  Dr. Anderson.  I wonder who else is behind that mirror?  These guys always travel in packs.
“Have a seat.”  In the middle of the room is a single metal folding chair.   Brr!  Why do They keep these rooms so cold?
“You’ve been doing very well on your tests, Mona Lisa.  Your IQ is well above that of an average seven-year-old.”  I could have told him that!  I’m eight-years-old!
     “We’ve also sensed you’ve become restless.  Is this true?”  Dr. Zachary.  He’s the only human to treat me like a living creature, not an experiment.  Not that I trust him or anything. . .
     I shrug, “Well, yeah. . .”  It’s true.  I do nothing except read books (which They encourage and provide in enormous amounts) and take tests.
     “I thought so.  Tell me, is there anything we can do?”
     Hmm?  They’re being awful nice. . . Maybe I’ll use that to my advantage.  “Well, I read a story about a man that could fight real good.  Like a Ninja-type crime fighter.”
     “Where on earth did you read that?”  Doc Anderson sounded mad.
     “One of those students was looking at a comic book and left it when his shift was over, so I took it.”  I wondered if Chris would get in trouble; he’s the only one who reads comics instead of medical journals.  I don’t really care, except if he gets fired, I won’t find out what happens next issue. . .
     “So are you saying you’d like to learn to fight the way the comic book character does?”  there’s interest in Dr. Zachary’s voice.
     Yes!!  “Well, yeah.  I never get to do stuff; run around, exercise.  I read that all creatures need to exercise to stay healthy, humans and animals.  I’ll bet that even includes what-ever I am.”  Boy I bet that peeved Dr. Anderson off!  He hates it when I talk like that!
     Even though They were talking quietly, I could still hear Them:  “I think it a great idea.”
     “Jim, I don’t know.  Teaching her to fight may not be smart. . .”
     “Come on, Dan.  What  harm could she do?  Plus it could be interesting research, see how her body works on a physical level.  Endurance levels, strength, so much to learn!”
     “That’s what concerns me!  How do we know how strong she can get?  Her intelligence levels are already off the charts!  She’s unlike anything we’ve ever created!  I don’t want to loose her!”
     “What, do you think she could get out of  here!  No way, Dan, you’re too paranoid to let anything like that happen.  Besides, we can take care of it.”
     “All right, Jim.  Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
     “Aren’t I always. . .OK Mona Lisa, it’s a deal.”
     Pretending I hadn’t heard a word, I look at the mirror, “Really!?”
     “Yes, we’ll look into it and find someone to teach you.  What is it you want to learn?  Karate?  Tai-Chi?”
     “I want to be a Ninja!  Like in the comic!”
     They didn’t answer for a moment.  “All right, Ninja.  I’ll find you a Ninja teacher.”  a strange buzz came from the window “Dr. Jackson, we’re done.”
     Ow!  I wish he’d let me walk!

     Ouch!  Geez!  I’m gonna have bruises cuz of that guy!
     My Room. . .Cage is more like it.  It’s got a bed, a comfy chair, a bookshelf overflowing with reading material, a tiny kitchen with a fridge, and a microwave, a bathroom with a sink, tub and toilet, and lots of cameras.  But that doesn’t make it any different than the metal  box I used to live in.  The door’s still locked, I’m still watched 24/7, and I still have nothing to
do. . .
     I wonder why Doc Zachary was so enthused about my idea?  I just want to use some energy and do something different.  This routine is so boring!  The tests are way easy and I get tired of books.  Maybe I’ll ask for a drawing book, and colored pencils.  I like to draw, but I don’t like using the lined paper.  I’m supposed to use that for writing tests.  Maybe  I can get a radio, or some video games, or even a TV out of Them.  I’m just so tired of feeling so. . .Cut off -- so trapped.  I want to do more than read about Life in books.  I want to SEE it; LIVE it!  *Sigh*  Oh well, It’s been a long day.  Taking written tests it easy, but those tests today were not; they hurt!  Blood tests, lots of shots, and machines all around.  They gave me an injection that made me feel all funny and floaty.  I wonder if that other creature was real, or just a dream?  There was another in the room, kind of like me, but not.  It was smaller, and brown.  It didn’t look very healthy.  *yawn!*  I wonder, am I the only non-human here?  Am I alone. . . ?

     “Is everything OK, Mona Lisa?”
     I raise my eyes from my pencil to Dr. Zachary, and shrug.
     “You seem down.  Oh, by the way, I found you a teacher so you can learn your Ninja.  He’ll be here next week.”  I smile slightly and look back at the eraser of my pencil.  “What’s wrong?  You can tell me.”
     “Well,” I don’t know how to start, “Am I alone?”
     “What?”  Dr. Zachary puts down his red pen and my test to look at me.
     “Am I alone?  The only one?  The only non-human?”  There’s concern in his eyes, but also nervousness.  I press, “I’m just so lonely.  I’ve never had a real friend.”
     “Oh hon, you’re not alone!  You’ll always have us!”
     Whoopee.  “But it’s not the same.”  I’ll give him the innocent eye bit.  “I’ve never played with anyone my own age.”  I donned a hopeful expression,  “If there ARE others like me, maybe they would wanna get some exercise too?”
     Dr. Zachary looks even more nervous now.  I wonder why?  “Listen, Sweetie, I’ll have to speak with Dr. Anderson.”  He takes my paper and his pen and clipboard, standing up.  “We’ll talk to you later tonight, OK?”
     That’ll have to be good enough, for now, “Yeah, OK.”
     *Buzz* “All right, Dr. Jackson.”
     Man!  Why won’t they let me go myself!?  I know the way!  Ow!!

     The sound of a card key being slipped into its slot on my door makes me look up from my book.  James and the Giant Peach.  I’ve read it five times already.  The door opens and Dr. Anderson enters, followed by Dr. Zachary.  They’ve come to my room?  This is new.
     “Mona Lisa,” Anderson nods to me.
     “Doc,” I nod back.
     This doesn’t seem to please him, but he continues, “Dr. Zachary told me about your conversation earlier.”
     “Oh?”  I act casual.
     “Yes.  Is it true?  You feel lonely?”
     “Well. . . Yeah.  I don’t ever get to play with anyone like me.  I’m mean, you guys are OK and all. . . “ *Snort* yeah right, “But. . . It’s just not the same. . .” I shrug and stare sadly at my webbed toes.
     The two men look at each other, then back down at me.  “Dr. Zachary and I have discussed it, and feel you’re old enough to know--you’re not our only ‘creation’ here in this facility.”  I can’t hide my surprise.  “We’ve talk about your idea, about others joining your Ninja lessons. . .”
     “. . . and?”  I prompt.
     “And we’ve decided that it’s time for you to make some friends.”  Dr. Zachary smiles.
     “Really!?”  I can’t believe it!
     “Really.”  Zachary looks happier about it than Anderson does.  “You all start Monday morning, 9 am.”
     “That’s great!!”  I can’t wait ‘till Monday!  Today’s Thursday, three whole days!  I’ll never make it!
     “Oh and about your test. . .” Doc Anderson pulls out a packet.
     Test?  Oh yeah, creative writing.  “Yeah?”
     “From now on, I prefer you not use words such as ‘son of a bitch,’ ‘asshole,’ and ‘prick,’ if you please.”
     “But they’re descriptive words, aren’t they?  Wasn’t that the assignment?  To write a descriptive essay?”
     “Yes, But-”  he raises an eyebrow at me, “these words are not appropriate when describing the interns and Doctors at this facility.”
     “Maybe not appropriate, but true none the less.”  I lift my chin to look him defiantly in the eye.
     Anderson sighs, “Please, in the future use better judgment, and at least some self-restraint.”
     “Good night, Dear.”  The two turn to leave.  “Cunning, isn’t she?”  I hear Doc Zachary say to Anderson.
     “Too smart for her own good,” the older Doctor mumbles back.  “And maybe ours, too.”
     I smile as the door slides closed.  I’ve got them trained nicely.

--From the journal of Mona Lisa--
 *Ooh* I’m so sore!  Mater Tachi has been working us hard lately.  I wonder if he’s ever found it odd to be teaching a bunch of strange-looking creatures?  I was so excited when I started my training a year ago, and even more so when I met Wendy.  I finally had a friend.  She’s about six inches shorter than me now, but when we first met, I only had an inch and a half on her.  They are impressed by my growth rate now that I’ve been in training.  According to my most recent measurements, I now stand 4’5”, and weight 87.9lbs.  I’ve also got nine inch biceps now; my muscle mass is up by 32%, and my body fat is down to 21%.  I used to be a lot flabbier.
 
    Dr. Anderson’s been coming down hard on me lately.  I think he’s afraid I’m starting to slack off.  Ha!  Not hardly!  Doc Zachary says I’m boarder-line genius level.  Well, I don’t know about THAT;  Wendy  seems to be a lot smarter than me.  She’s been here for SIX years!  Two more than me.  However, she’s not a ‘Creation’ , she’s a genuine being.  She was not made by Them like I was.  I try to understand when Wendy explains where she came from, but usually it’s way over my head.  She says she’s from another dimension, what ever that means.  But, I really don’t care where she’s from, she’s here, and now I have a friend.
 
    However, I also seem to have an enemy now.  A ‘Creation’ that’s been here for five years.  She was an intern who learned of the experiments performed here and was so intrigued by them that she snuck down to the main lab after hours to do some experiments of her own.  She HAD intended to be the first to actually make a mutant successfully.  She got her wish, but not the way she expected.  Instead of her specimen, a cat rescued from the Humane Society, becoming more human--like me--SHE started becoming feline.  Now, instead of performing research and experiments, they were performed on her.  She learned to accept her fate quickly, being a scientist and naturally curious, and rather enjoyed the attention (Obviously both the feline AND female parts of her personality).  But, a year later, I came along, and shattered her new way of life, with mine.  I was Their “Work of Art” and boy did that make her mad!  I don’t know why she holds a grudge against ME, though.  Not like it was MY idea to become what I am.  I had no say in it what-so-ever!  Yet, the hatred for me remains.  ‘Calla the Cat Woman’ is what me and Wendy call her--not to her face of course.
 So, together we train with our Master Tachi:  Wendy, an eleven-year-old being from another dimension, Calla, a twenty-year-old student turned experiment, and me, a nine-year-old mutant “Work of Art”. . .
 
     “Dinner.”
     I look up from my journal.  “Thanks, Joel.”  He nods, sets the tray down on the counter next to me, and turns to leave.  I casually flick my hand out as he goes.  Once the door slides shut I view my prize with a grin.  “Thanks a lot. . .”

    The magnetic strip of the card key shimmers in my hot little hand.