Seized

Chapter 1: Welcome to the World

           I opened my eyes for the very first time. I was laying somewhere under a bright white light. As my vision adjusted to the lighting I saw the light was a lamp. I sat up and looked around the room. I saw a girl sitting in what looked like a dentist chair with a bunch wearing a metal helmet. It was decorated with red, blue and green lights. They blinked on and off. Attached to the helmet was a long spiral tube connected to a machine that was making lots of whirring noises.

     I looked down at myself. I seemed to be sitting on an extremely uncomfortable metal bed. There was no pillow, no sheets or a blanket. It shined underneath me like silver ice. My eyes moved toward my own body. I saw that I was naked. I lifted my arms and looked at my milky cream skin. I touched my hair and brought a strand to my eyes. It was a wave of chocolate brown. I moved my hands to my face and they trailed along my eyebrows, to my eyes, across my nose and finally stopping at my lips.

         I had this strange feeling of Deja vu. Or was it? I had never seen any of these objects before or even people before but yet I knew what they were.

          I looked up at the ceiling of the white room and saw a sleek silver looking air vent. As if on cue cold air starting rushing in through the vents. My hair blew and tickled my face and goose bumps spread across my body like a forest fire. I looked over at the girl again to see if she had woken up yet. Her eyes were still shut. Then a shocking realization hit me in the gut. She looked like me. Exactly like me, identical even. 

        One of the walls slid upwards and in came in a slim man. He wore a white lab coat and had a sandpaper tan clipboard in hand. He also had a piece of white fabric draped over one shoulder. He used his index finger to push up his black square-framed glasses and gave me a blank expression. Our eyes locked and I automatically crossed my arms over my chest while crossing my legs. For what reason? I wish I knew.

        "Here put this on," he said in a monotonous voice. He tossed me the white fabric that was on his shoulder. 

         Too confused to speak a word I did as I was told and unfolded the fabric. It was a spotless white chalk color. It was plain white tank top dress. I slipped it over my head and pulled it down so it covered my chest and a little bit of my thighs. 

       "Why does she look like me?" I blurted out in a raspy voice.

      Gee what a way to sound intelligent. He wrote something on his clipboard before answering me.

    "More like you look like her," he replied. "Her name is Harper Stacey and your her clone.''

      Then he began to explain the details of clones and what is expected of us. We were basically like slaves to the human we were cloned for. We had to do everything that they told us to do. If they didn't want to do something we had to it for them. If they were dying and needed an organ that's where we come in. Worst of all, we couldn't reproduce. It sucks. Big time. We have no peace of mind at all. How could anyone live like this? 

      "Then what is my name? Do I even get one?" I questioned.

     "Well Harper chose a name for you before she went under. She wanted to name you . . . Tatum Welsh," the man stated.

       Not so bad of a name I guess. I looked over at the girl named Harper once more. We exactly alike in every which way. Identical straight down to the DNA. Only difference between Harper and me? She could actually live her life and have a family. Me, I had no one.

                                                                  ****

     "Welcome to your new home Tatum! I can't believe my baby girl has a clone now. I remember getting my first clone at your age," Mrs. Stacey babbled. I smiled politely in response.