Writer's Advice and Feedback Group discussion

So this is just a short story I had to write for class and I was wondering if you guys think I should expand on it.

I am not meant to speak to them. I am not meant to ask questions about what they do. I am not meant to wonder why they do those things. I am supposed to be reticent, quiet, not questioning anything. But just because I cannot vocalize my inquiries, does not mean I do not think them. I think a lot actually. After all, I have so much time alone in my white bedroom with the plain uncomfortable bed and the large metal door.
I have few possessions in this tight room of mine. A dictionary, a collection of encyclopedias, my hairbrush, and a small hand mirror. The later I would rather not have. I do not enjoy looking upon my reflection. When I juxtapose my self with the few humans that I see my face allocates me. I have never seen anyone who looked anything like myself. Well, some of them are pale, and we all have the same sort of structure and body make up, but that is where the similarities end. Where their eyes are small brown or blue or green, mine are a large electric purple, with no whites the way cats are supposed to have. My hair grows in clumps like the down feathers of a bird in a thick short nest the green color of the inside of a new twig. My nose is small and turned up slightly at the end, and my lips are pale and thin. My body is small and bony. Neither muscle nor fat tissues are noticeable, no matter how much or little they feed me. The shape is perpetual, and they don’t think it will ever change.
I look at the clock on the wall above the door. The hands are strait up and down, the way they show when they bring me my second meal of the day. I sit in the white wooden chair in my plain dress and bare feet and wait to hear the squeak of the cart down the hallway. It doesn’t come. I look too the top corner to the left of the door and stare unblinkingly at the camera they use to study my behavior, writing it down in chronological order. After about ten ticks of the red hand I begin to hear footsteps. Louder louder louder they get, sharp taps against the cold rough floor. I can picture who it is. The one with the dark lips and the pointy shoes. The one who comes when they test me. The tall pointy loud shoes come to a stop. The locks on the metal door click into place and it silently opens. I shift my gaze from the watching cylinder to the female. Her skin is dark, hair close to her scalp. She wears what my books call “glasses” in front of her eyes. Unblinkingly I stare at her. I can tell she is unnerved.
“Come.” she says, making a motion with her hand. She holds something in her other hand, it’s long and flimsy, looks sort of like the material of my bed. I stand and walk to her. She ties the thing around my head, blocking my vision. I tense up. “It’s just a blindfold, I’ll take it off of you soon.” She rests her hand on my shoulder and starts leading me through the hall.
“Why do I need it?” I ask, not expecting an answer. “Where are we going?”
“That is for me to know and for you to only see.”
“But I cannot see, the blind fold obstructs my vision.”
“They don’t want you to see where I’m taking you. They only want you to see a certain part of where you are going.”
“Who is this ‘they’?”
“The scientists. Do you know what a scientist is?”
“They do research, and find things and make medicine.”
“Yes they do.”
“But if they are scientists, why am I here?”
“Because they are doing research.”
“But what does that have to do with me being here?”
“They are researching you.”
“I am confused.”
“About what?”
“Why are they researching me?”
“Because you are a synthetic life form, the first in fact. Well not quite the first, but the first human to be created. They want to see what you can and cannot do. You have already proven to be immune to many things that would normally kill people. Because of you we have cured many things, like most types of cancer, The Bubonic Plague, and some poisons.”
“Why are you telling me all of this? Whenever I ask people about what is going on they don’t answer.”
“We have come to the conclusion that you are as worthy of life as a normal human being as anyone else is. You are to live with the family of one of the workers here from now on. You will still be within the compound, however you will have more social interaction and different surroundings. Other then that, everything will be the same.”
“So you will still be watching me.”
“Yes.”
 “Why am I blindfolded if all we are doing is going to a new building? What do they not want me to see?”
“They do not want you to know where the facility you were being held in is.”
 “Why not?”
“I’m not sure.”
A door was opened and warm air hit me. I could sense light from behind the blindfold. the ground I was walking on changed from hard and smooth to bumpy and sharp. It felt strange on my feet.
“Hello!” a light pleasant voice greeted after some more walking. “You can take off her blindfold now.”
I felt a tug on the cloth in back of my head and it fell away. Before my eyes was a rather peculiar sight. Around me was all strange looking, with trees of an odd color I was unfamiliar with, on the ground the treetop shed it’s foliage. In front of me was another woman who looked much more welcoming.
“My name is Wendy Thomson, you will live with me from now on.” she smiled. “Walk with me. You can ask any questions you’d like.”
“What is a name?”
“It’s something that a person is called. Like how these trees are called Cherry Blossom Trees.”
“Do I have a name?”
“I believe you do not. Would you like me to name you?”
“What would you name me?”
“Hm....” The woman Wendy said, doing a strange thing with her forehead that made ridges between her eyebrows. “Hope. I think Hope would be a fitting name for you.”

Nice, Emily! I like the style of the piece, and it was very well-written. An overall great job :)

I would definitely like to read more about Hope's journey! I personally hope you can expand on the story; maybe develop the world a little bit more so that I can get a better sense of what setting the characters are in.

I'm curious, how did you do on the writing assignment? You seem to be a very talented writer!

Thanks! We had to use our vocabulary words of the week and split into pairs but I was the odd one out so I worked alone. Then we put them all on a google doc. my teacher shared with all of us and we voted on who's was the best. I haven't looked at my grade for it yet though....
I'm thinking of having the setting be in Area 51. Perhaps have her go to a school of sorts with other test subjects, maybe some kids of the scientists who work there.