"You are One."

This sharp voice came from a loudspeaker in this room. You see a group of people wearing headphones and working on computers on the other side of the only glass window in this room.

"I am Angela Sanders."You say firmly.

You aren't dumb. You still remember your mom singing you to sleep last night.

Eleven birds singing in the tree,

Gentle night, gentle breeze,

Eleven birds, Eleven breeds,

But all of them singing happily.

"Good night, Angie." She had said after singing Eleven birds.

"You are One." The voice says again, this time softly but dangerously.

The weird helmet on your head sends some kind of electric flow that burns your mind.

You scream in pain, but the people in headphones say nothing and keep on working on their computers.

"I...don't...understand..."You cry, the pain still there. "I'm six years old already...Why am I One?"

"You are One." The voice repeats coldly. "You are not Angela Sanders. You are One."

"I am not---Argh!" The flow is harder this time, and you feel like dying. "I am One," You sob, "I, I am One."

"Good." The voice says in a sinister way, "Good, One."

You don't understand why he sounds so satisfied. It wasn't because you confessed you were one. No. Then you see your reflection in the glass.

Your face is ghastly white and twirling around you is a strange black cloud of dust, storming behind you.

"Good, One." The voice says, and you can almost see the person smile evilly.

Then you feel like you cannot remember anything.

Except that you are One.