Merge

Chapter 1

"Name?".

"Victoria Evans".

"Age and Province?".

''16 and Southern Province".

"Sector?".

"31".

I studied my interviewer, she raises her eyebrows but doesn't look up from my application. I don't blame her, not only am I in the smallest district, but I live in the most remote known Sector.

" Please continue to fill out your application and I'll be waiting in here". She swipes her ID and the door opens, I finally can see what she looks like.

Weary. Is the first thing that I can think of, she has probably seen the same thing for years. Young, curious faces ready to see what will be of their lives. I walk out to the waiting area, full of empty fold-able chairs. I read the application.

It flashes up on a virtual screen, as if it were a warm, freshly printed sheet of paper in my hands. I tick all the virtual boxes and place my arm under the micro chip scanner. The pain tickles up my arm and then disappears as quickly as it came. The door opens, to my micro chip and I see a single chair in the middle of the room.

The hard metal is cold on my legs, sending a shiver up my spine. I look around for the weary interviewer, I hear her before I see her.

" You don't bother reading the questions do you?", Her steady voice fills the hollow room," Others absorb the questions to the point that it consumes them, you should try it some time". I imagine her lips curling up at the sides, as if I have known her weary face for years.

" Is this part of the interview?" I stifle a smile," Does this decide my mental direction or how my brain is wired?".

A big laugh echoes and bounces off the walls, some how I'm not smiling anymore.

" Please drink the glass of water in front of you". I feel the heavy glass in my hands, " Immediately".

I gulp down the liquid, feeling the cool sensation running down my throat. I let out a sigh once the glass is empty, looking around the room is dark and cold.

" Count down from ten please".
I look around for a speaker, or some sort of clue to where she is, but I see nothing.

" 10,9,8,-" I stop. What comes after eight? My vision goes blurry, black spots appearing. I can't feel anything below my waist, I begin to slump down my chair. " 7-".