I don't know where I am. I don’t know what time it is, what day it is, what month, what year. I don't know what has happened to me. All I know for sure is that I am scared for my life.
My head is light and fuzzy, tingling right under my skull. It's spinning around, back and forth and back and forth. For a second, I try to focus and think. No matter how hard I try, I can't get past it. It feels like my memories have been inhibited by too much alcohol, but I haven’t had a drink in ages. At least, that’s what I think, if I can even think straight right now. But what I really want to know what's going on, and most importantly…where the hell are my pants? This would be hilarious if I wasn't so damned scared.
Someone else must have dressed me in this loose fitting green top, but nothing else. My wrists have been tied down by thick leather and metal straps. I can’t see any sort of lock, so there’s no hope of getting away that way. I can see that I'm underneath this machine, this great silver monstrosity with a thick tube pointed straight at me. I swear it's something out of a science fiction movie.
The contraption stars whirring as the inner engines kick to life. Two or three spotlights explode and then point their beams at me. My eyes are instantly watery from them shining right in my eyes, so I blink away tears. Behind a blurry film of water, I can make out a silhouette of a large man behind the machine, but nothing more. He must have been standing there the entire time. He is saying something to me, but I can't put the abstract sounds into concrete words. Now he moves behind the machine and I can faintly hear grunting from the back. Whatever he has done seems to give the cold metal life, for the machine is in full throttle. The piece of metal attached to the strange tube moves in closer towards me. The strange man talks again. Something about his science and our children. All the children.
It's all I can hear and understand over the sound of the machine and my growing cries for help. The fear inside me has reached its zenith, having swollen up to fill my whole body That glowing tube is coming right at me. I can't do anything but scream and thrash. Thick leather straps hold me down at my wrists and midriff, restricting everything.
My wild and free legs knock against the machine but nothing is stopping it. It moves in closer and closer. Then, the horrible happens. That tube is inside me. It's cold and I scream. It's warm and I cry. Something is happening. Something disgusting.
I'm being raped by a machine.
When it's done, all I can see is black. When my eyes are open again, I'm on the streets with no idea how I got there. I can't think of anything but that pain; it's still there inside of me. So I just run and run. Everyone is looking at me like I'm some crazy person that just escaped from a mental hospital. Sure, I look like one, but I'm not insane. Just hurt and searching for answers. Someone on this accursed campus has to know something about what happened to me. My head is starting to clear as I breathe in fresh air. I can remember hearing about new government programs for artificial inseminations. The politicians had been spreading their propaganda for new breeding programs that would improve our general lifestyle. That was all just whispers and strange tales. Not this.
I have to stop running at some point. My body can't take much more, so I pick a little spot in an offside courtyard. It's dark and wooded so I take shelter there. Within seconds, I collapse on the soft dirt. The ground is littered with seashells. Picking one up, I run my finger over the edge. It's a large thing and the edges are rough.
Something on the ground, maybe a twig or maybe a shell, snaps. My head jerks up to see a young man watching me. Like a startled deer, I jump up and dash away, but not before hurling the shell at him. He yells with either pain or sheer surprise at getting a seashell thrown at him.
I'm running again, ducking and weaving through the brush, yet he keeps pursuing me. There is a building to my right and I can see a back door through the bushes. Hiding inside seems like a better option right now.
With great force, I push open the heavy pink door. Right inside is a dark stairwell. I hear people upstairs, so I head down. There is another door at the end of the stairs, which I push through as well. Instead of finding an empty place to hide, I have crashed into the arms of a girl around my age.
"What's the matter?" she asks as I scream a little bit more. My brain cannot think of any other reactions. With gentle hushes, she leads me into a wide room filled with people sitting on the floor or leaning against the wall. As we walk, I hear the door open up. My eyes can't help but look to see who else is joining this meeting. Seconds later, I am screaming out again. My throat is raw from all this screaming, but I don't know what else to do.
Standing right behind me is the man from the grove. He looks at me with an astounded expression, as if he doesn't understand my reaction. That opinion seems to be shared among the other people around us. An older man rushes over and begins asking what happened to him while I back away slowly. Despite my terror, I notice a dark spot on his pant leg and something dripping from it onto the floor. Blood.
With the scent of that blood, I'm taken back to the lab. I smell the blood between my legs as it runs onto the cold table. I feel the blood on my sore wrists after being set free from the bonds. I taste the blood from the guard I killed to get away.
I see everything now. His blood lifted away the veil on my own mind placed to keep out the nightmares.
"Hush now. It's going to be okay. You're with the good guys now," the girl smiles at me as she walks me over to a bench in the front of the room. We both sit, followed by the young man. With a whimper, I shy away from him. He looks saddened by my reaction, but the girl whispers something in his ear that eases his stress. I wish I had that comfort.
A tall, graying man starts talking to the group, about their new members and how someone escaped from the labs. They all look at me with wide eyes. I look down at the silver chain around my ankle that labels me as subject M-19.
"Come up here. Tell us what happened to you. They need to hear the truth," he beckons for me with a gnarled hand. So I stand up and speak to the crowd.
About how my father took me away from my home life and brought me to the lab. How he gave me over to the fat man. How they took away my most personal intimacy for their own uses. I tell them of the terrors, of the nightmares.
They listen with teary eyes. When my mouth closes, theirs applaud me. I am welcomed as a saint to their cause.
A month passes. I wake up one night covered in blood. I think it is just another nightmare since I have them almost every night, but the pains in my stomach are too real. I revert to screaming and crying. Three people run in: a doctor, the girl who welcomed me to the resistance, and the young man from the courtyard. He holds my hand while the other two check the bloody sheets.
I am told I have had a miscarriage. The baby put inside of me by the machines has died in the night. Everyone is happy about this news somehow. They say it is progress, that the scientists and their creations can be stopped.
But I don't share their joy. A painful life is gone, smeared across my sheets. I can't stop crying for it. (C)
No comments:
Post a Comment