She prodded at the numbers on her thigh. They burned to the touch and were tender.
It must have meant something. She couldn't remember a thing. The cell slowly became her world. The screams were a quiet melody that faded away with time. One of the scientist would come by every now and then. He was young. Maybe 21 to 26. His hair was always matted down and messy. Dark circles under his eyes suggested little sleep and hard studies.
The first time he came, he took some blood from her arm.
"A'ight 76530," he grumbled, "Soon you'll have a change in quarters and clothes. And don't worry about company." His crooked grin made her skin crawl, "There will be plenty of people like you around."
It felt like months until he came back to take her away. He handed her white shorts and a white shirt. The shorts weren't long enough to cover her tattooed leg. When she had finished changing he grabbed her long blonde hair and cut it.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as he snipped away. When he finished, he held her under her arm and guided her out. The light blinded her for a few moments. The concrete was cold beneath her bare feet as they marched. They passed several scientists with their subjects. All of them in different colors ranging from white, like hers, to black.
He shoved her into a different cell. This time there was a single light bulb in the ceiling, a bare bed in a corner and a toilet.
"76530, this is your room, many are like it but this one is yours," he smirked at his own joke. She looked at him confused, the jest lost on her. The scientist rolled his eyes as he closed and locked the door behind him.
She was alone again.