Okay...I've never written anything for Replica yet, as my profile will show you, I always write romance. Writing romance for Replica proved to be too darn confusing, since I think that all the boys are perfect for Amy. Dang.

So instead I decided to write about the pink smocked clones, from Perfect Girls and Return of the Perfect Girls. (Oh, Marylin Kaye and those creative titles of her's...)

This takes place after Perfect Girls, (number 4) by the way...

            They think she doesn't know anything.

            This would make her feel superior, except she knows that they're right. She doesn't know anything at all, not really. She knows to do what she's told. Walk, breathe, blink...she does those things independently.

            She's cleaning a room for them now. Somebody left a radio on. A lot of words and screeching pour from it. All the words confuse and irritate her. She reaches up to the dial and changes it to static. Good. Simple white noise. This helps her concentrate.

            Not that she can concentrate, but it's nice to pretend that you can.

            She's cleaning up the room where they had been sleeping. As she pulls some blankets that have fallen on the floor, she wonders who they are. All she knows is that they are better than her and the others like her. They are better than anybody or anything. She wants fiercely to be like them, to have everything be so simple to understand.

            All of the energy it took to think about them is gone. She is tired, from all of the effort, and she still doesn't understand anything. She tucks in the corner of the blanket, to make stiff hospital corners.

            As she fluffs the pillows, she tried to focus on the static, the calming, blissfully simple noise. It's hard. Hard to focus on anything. She feels a bit dizzy now. She'd sit on the bed to rest, but she wasn't told to sit on the bed, only to clean it. She wasn't told to think about them, either. Maybe she has disobeyed orders!

             That thought is so big it forces her to stagger, leaning against the wall, her mouth gaping open. Disobeying is bad, bad, the worst thing she can do. She doesn't know how she knows this, something deep inside her knows.

            She fluffs the pillow again. Jealousy is not good, it is like disobeying, but not as severe. But she is jealous. She wants to be loved and cared for, treasured, like how the doctors treat them. It's not fair. She KNOWS she's more deserving then they are.

            But she also knows her feelings will never make a difference, so her eyes stay blank as she walks on to make the next bed...

That was weird...hooray for present tense! It makes me feel cool. Will you please review? Thanks. ^_^ It was short, so I'm not expecting long stanzas of praise, but a review would make me HAPPY! And everybody loves happiness, don't we?