The Test // One Direction

Chapter 5

I haven't even been here that long but I'm becoming home sick. Everything brings me back to home. My brother and sister, who can sometimes be annoying but I would do anything to get back to my family.

I also miss my chicken and ranch. They are feeding me the same thing... vegetables and every once in a while I get a small cupcake.

Zayn is leading me to Test 1 right now. I haven't got a clue what to expect, so I didn't get much sleep last night.

The Hall isn't an actual hall, it's a huge room. The room is filled with seats like dentists have, but with straps for arms, legs, and the neck. Wires and machines everywhere. People are getting prepared for the test. Many are screaming and fighting to try to get out of the chair.

Zayn grabs my arm and leads me to my own chair. I shake my head, heart beating out of my chest. I don't know what will happen when I get in that chair, but it won't be fun.

Zayn leans close to my ear, "Just do it. It will be over as quick as possible. I'll try my best to keep it easy for you." He pulls away, and masks on an angry look. Louder, he demands, "Come on!"

He practically shoves me on to the chair. I'm strapped down by many people now, particularly tight on my legs and arms. My neck is a little bit looser.

For a few minutes, I just lay there. Everyone else is being strapped down and waiting too. Olsen checks off on a list and then nods to the workers, who are everywhere. The whole room comes to a hush as he speaks. "Attention. For some of you, you have had tests already. But for the rest, it may be your first. Just remember, it's for the better of the world." Someone screams something I could never repeat.

"Let the tests begin." He leaves The Hall.

That's when everyone's wires are filled with black liquid. Somebody screams, and I black out.

-

Flashes. Pops. I see myself as a baby, crying in my mothers arms. Another pop. I'm being bullied in second grade. Crackle, a shatter that sounds like glass breaking.

A scream. I'm seven years old again, strolling to my new friends house. Her name is Anna Grace.

I knock on the door, but no one answers. Her moms car is here, so I know they haven't left.

"Hannah, get out of here!" A gunshot, a girl screaming. Me.

That's the day my friend died.

Now I'm older. Liam is holding my hand. He leans closer, but when we go in for a kiss, he crumbles to the ground. Blood is spilling out of his ears, nose, mouth, and eyes. He is pale, sunken in and skinny. Then he starts to rot away...

The shapes shift and float around until I see myself, on the bed in The Hall. I'm screaming and crying. Veins are pulsing in my neck and head, I'm shaking like I am having a seizure. My body is sweating a thin layer of blood.

The room expands, and I see everyone is doing the same. Then it focuses on Zayn, who is watching me. The rest of the guards stare at the time.

Time slows as Zayn blinks. I watch every single eyelash make its way down and up, and I don't know how they don't get tangled. His lips are pursued into a tight line, and he squeezes his hair in frustration.

Crashing and screaming. I can barely hear his voice. "We are losing her."

Time speeds up. I focus in on a bug that has made its way on to this floor. I watch pieces of lint float under the light.

Beeps and screeches confirm it. I am dying. I watch as I am gasping for air, and pain flutters into my head. I feel like a pulse.

Someone dismisses, "She will be fine. It's almost over."

"She will die!" Zayn warns.

I feel my heart beat, the blood pulsing through me. I am the heart beat.

Flowers start to wither. I can't see them but I feel them. Screaming. I can smell the flowers so much I feel like puking.

Death. Blood. Flowers. Liam. Me.

I wish I could just die. Maybe I am dead. Maybe my body will stop moving and I will die. It would be easier.

I always thought like that. It's not that I have always wanted to die, but it would be so much easier if I did. No worries. Nothing. Just death.

I welcome the death but it doesn't come. It isn't my time. "Not yet." I imagine death say. "You aren't done yet."