Gyfted

Prologue

It is time. Those three words send shivers down my spine. After the operation, I won't remember any of this, or my past. that is, if I survive. I change into the papery hospital-like gown. Everywhere in this facility is white, and plastic. When I finish changing, I leave my clothes in the bathroom. I won't need them anymore. I trail my hand along the wall as I walk slowly down the hallway. I try to remember the feelings, sounds, scents. Even though I don't want these sterile operating rooms to be the last things I ever see. I reach the door to my operating room. I am the last person, sorry, lab rat in my group. Through the window in the door, I see a slender Indian girl being carried out on a stretcher. I hope she wakes up. I hope I wake up.
Well, here goes. I think. I slip into the room and, with a nod from the nurse, slide onto the operating table. I think of my family. Not my biological family, they were the ones who sold me to this... actually I don't know exactly what it is, I think it's some sort of secret government section or something. No, I think of the people who looked after me when I came here. The nurses, the younger kids (I was the only one in my section that wasn't under the age of ten). I hold on to them, and they are the last thing I think of when the anaesthetic takes me away.