Distorted Future (subject to change)

2

Standing outside, my heart races faster than ever before. Once I leave this intimidating tower, everything will be different. I walk in, trying to conceal my trembling as I approach the reception desk and join the long queue that will only continue to grow. I pick at my fingernails as I slowly come closer to the desk every second, until eventually, I'm there.

'Your Number?' Demands a short haired and unfriendly woman with glasses, looking at me as though I'm nothing but the filth on her shoes. I lose all sense of speech and begin to stutter, forgetting anything she just said.

'Well?'

I continue struggling to find my voice.

'For god's sake child, hurry up, we have hundreds of people to be signing in today!'

'L10165754D' She taps the numbers into the screen and throws me a ticket.

'Floor 8, Room X16' she grunts.

I head through the corridor and follow the sign to the lift, only to find hundreds gathered outside and resentfully taking to the stairs. I count the steps as I get closer to floor 8, in an attempt to calm my anxiety, but it only worsens in realisation that every step brings me closer to what I'm afraid of. Finally, I reach the top of the barren stairway at floor 8. I clutch the handle of the door that will lead me into the corridor and I freeze. I cannot move or open the door until a group of excited teens run up the stairwell, shouting enthusiastically and joking, and I am forced to open the door. I see the full waiting area and find a seat in amongst all the drama. The numbers flash by on the television screen above. I watch my number come into view and see it get closer and closer until it is at the top and I will enter an interview studio. All the possible outcomes go through my head and I think it can't be that bad, can it?

Then I see it, L10165754D flashes on the top of the screen and I know it's my time. I am allocated a room and I stare at the tall, dark black door as I slowly rise from my seat and step slowly towards the door. Once I step inside, I am greeted by a young, long haired man.

'Hello Lilly'

'Aren't you supposed to refer to me by my number?' I ask, confused as this is very unusual for a government worker.

'Maybe, but it's a little dehumanising isn't it?'

Finally. Someone who agrees.

'My name's Luca or L12345678J, if you wish.'

'Funny' I say, rather sarcastically.

'Right, I'll just need you to lie down on this bed over here. I'm going to place this stimulator on your head in order to do a few tests, there's nothing to be worried about'

'Easy for you to say' I muttered

'Look, I'm not against you, OK? So calm down.'

What does he mean?

I awkwardly lie myself on my back on top of the rock solid surface of the so called bed. The heavy machine is placed all the way over my head and I begin to panic, reaching up as though I might remove it. My arms are grabbed and I begin to struggle, fighting back. It's no use to me and I'm tied down to the bed so I'm unable to move, shouting and cursing.

'I'm sorry, but this is just part of the procedure, relax and don't panic.'

I feel a sharp pain in my head and I try to scream but no sound is released. Blackened is my vision. Voices echo inside my head and everything drifts far away into the distance. What is happening, I don't know. I faintly feel the prick of a needle slide into my arm and fluids are released into my blood stream. What is he doing to me? I'm sure this isn't part of the session. Pain takes over me and I feel my body collapse. I hear a whisper in my ear; I'm so sorry, please forgive me. Colours begin to pass through my brain and nothing is clear anymore. I feel as though I am drifting through time, just like a passing cloud from one piece of sky to the next. Am I even alive anymore? My brain feels as though it has completely shut off and I am eternally stuck in a coma. My pulse is stationary and I no longer feel my heart beating. Oh my god, I think to myself, I'm dead. They think I'm a criminal and they're killing me. I try to fight it but it doesn't work. I continue to fall deeper and deeper into the dark abyss of death. They can't really be doing this; they can't really believe this can they? Maybe it was my urge for adventure, or maybe it was because I was always different. I stood out too much. Maybe I am really questioning the government, but what do they think I'll do? Please don't let me die, Luca. I don't want to die. These feelings get weaker and weaker as I begin to lose all sense of my mind, and then, I'm gone.

^Z2