Riddled.

Chapter One.

As soon as he came out of the womb, the doctors started looking at each other warily. The man carrying the baby instantly placed him on the cold hard metal, next to the sink. He hadn't cleaned him yet. He was afraid of dropping him, his arms trembled, and he was shocked. His hands carried the blood of the next dominant brain, but he had no right to kill him. Their eyes were scanning the room silently, praying that the mother wouldn't notice. The tools in their hands were shaking, and their heartbeats were increasing, the soft tissue of the shirts rising and falling, apparently. The eyes of the woman were closed, as instructed; opening them was hard anyway, since the light bleeding from the room was blinding, but she didn't know if the doctors were aware of it. Within a few seconds, she felt like the people in the room had stopped working, and felt the cold air touching her organs, but she didn't think anything of it. They still had to sew her stomach, but it was still open. The only sound heard in the room was the sound of the machine that beeped with every heartbeat, and the sound of cries. She was busy trying to forget about the pain she just experienced. She knew that eventually, her son would be taken to get checked, but she hadn't seen the look on the nurses' faces. Horror was clear as day, but they thanked God that the patient couldn't see, or else they would have broken the golden rule, and of course, they would've been sent away and punished severely. Ansel was a brain of power, and his rules were always followed perfectly. After the warnings they received, some of them couldn't sleep at night, tossing and turning until their pillow went hot, and others regretted being doctors. They even questioned themselves, and they didn't know what was running through their minds when they had taken such an awful decision. The doctor slowly placed the child in his mother's arm, his fingers parting at the loss of contact, and the lady with bright brown hair and green eyes hugged her newborn, brought him close to her chest and stared at him like he was some kind of jewel. A jewel that was hers, and only hers. Silent tears streamed down her face, she couldn't believe that she was finally a mother, holding her own flesh and blood. All the pain that she felt was worth it, all the suffering, for many months, was worth a lifetime with her child. He was so small, and as much as she brought him closer, she still felt like he was far away from her. Even when their skins touched, she felt like there was no contact between the two. She then kissed his forehead lightly, traced his cheek with her finger, and left him to the white coats, her hands trembling and her heart aching, because she didn't get to hold her child for as long as she wanted. The man in charge held the fragile, light body softly, managing to offer a small smile, before eluding and disappearing. The eyes of the mother followed him, but he was soon out of sight, lost in the hallways of the big hospital.

After two nights without her child, two nights spent on the hospital bed without moving, two nights laying on the same white sheets, she finally managed to stand up without feeling dizzy or tired, and recovered from the hard labor. It was finally the day when her eyes could freely land on her baby, after his brain being scanned, just to make sure he was normal. She could finally take him home, take care of him, and watch him become an adult. She knew it would be a little hard to raise a child, but motherhood was something that made her beam. Brain scanning was something that happened every day, every hour and maybe every few minutes; each time a baby was born. And only once or twice every century did the doctors find a baby with 'The Disease', which no one knew much about. Some doctors knew, because their job requested knowing, but they have been promised that if the secret was out, their life would become living hell. All the other diseases were fine comparing to this one, whom everyone was afraid of, everyone was always afraid of the unknown. Because if it was a human disease, the child could be treated, and could have a normal life, but if it was the disease, nobody knew what would happen but the doctors, who couldn't utter the symptoms and tell the truth. Marguerite wasn't used to surprises, and she lived a very normal, stable life. There was no drama, nothing shocking, and the rare things that happened to people never happened to her, because her life would take turns, and it never did. Routine choked everyone, but it soothed her, and she was content with it, because nothing new happening is better than something bad happening, or so she thought. On that day, she woke up early, ran to her husband, the smile never leaving her face, and asked him a thousand questions due to her excitement. He kept laughing and shaking his head, and if anybody laid his eyes on them that morning, they'd think those two are the happiest couple on the planet. She hugged him tightly outside the blue door, her arms glued to his back, expecting good news, before they both entered the room and sat silently, the room in which was the doctor who had to instruct them, and inform them about everything that was x-ray related. Little did they know, that room would change both of their lives, which would take an unexpected turn. The bald man, who was going to decide the fate of the Gauchard family, welcomed them with a smile, his glasses hanging at the edge of his nose, and then sat at his desk, his chair rolling left, and right, between the papers and the laptop screen. The sound of buttons being pressed on the keyboard only made the parents more nervous. His fingertips were moving swiftly on the board, he swung them up and down fast but they suddenly froze, and the room went silent. Marguerite's breath was caught in her throat, but she swallowed without making any noise, pretending that she didn't know what was up – pretending that she wasn't warned. She hoped the machine stopped, or something wasn't working in the software. Her eyes scanned the room quickly, meeting many faces, and her baby's face behind the glass doors. She kept staring at his face, hoping to engrave the picture in the deepest cells of her brain. The doctor was shocked, he hadn't expected a different X-Ray, and wondered if the parents would run away, after knowing what was up. If they took the baby and ran, he would lose his job, even if they were caught by security. But it was the first time that something like this happened in a long time, so logically, both couldn't know what was up, before him saying anything. And they couldn't take him anyway, because he was strapped, and people were surrounding him. It has been such a long time that nobody even worries about their newborn. The rules were clear in his brain, but he never thought he'd have to use them. Slowly closing his eyes, the picture of the paper appeared in his mind. The paper of which he made many copies; one was hung on the fridge, another was framed in his room, and a last one was always in his pocket, as a stickie note. 'The rules are easy, and essential for every successful doctor' was a phrase that was repeated daily in class, even though some of them made no sense to him, and were the same.