Bought

Promised

The room was blindingly bright. Only a few details stuck in my mind. It was always that way in The Dream, as if the memory was too traumatic to remember more than a few things.

I was a ghost outside of my own body, forced to watch as a team of doctors bent over a computer screen.  The list of data slowly resolved itself into checkmarks and failures.

"It doesn't meet baseline requirements," the head doctor announced.  All eyes turned to the squirming baby which was nestled in the arms of a woman.  A man hovered nearby.

"But she's perfect just the way she is," the woman pleaded.

"The failures are critical.  We'll have to terminate it."  The doctor turned off the computer screen.

"Terminate?"  The man clenched his fists as if he could fight off the entire team of medical professionals single handedly.

"It would be a mercy at this point.  Give us the baby."

"This isn't right.  There has to be another option!"

One of the nurses shrugged.  "I suppose we could enroll it as a Product."

"A product?"  The man started to say something else but the woman stopped him.  Her hands shook as she held out the helpless infant.

"Yes.  We'll . . . we'll do that."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes.  It's better this way.  We'll find you, darling.  We'll take you back one day.  My little Destiny."

And then the doctor's hands had the baby.  She was laid on a table under a foreign machine.  The laser lowered towards the tiny hand. I was screaming in pain as The Dream exploded into stripes and numbers, my brand, my barcode.

"Stop it!" a voice hissed from somewhere above me. I jolted awake in a haze of pain and terror. Someone's hand was clamped over my mouth while the other pushed on my shoulder. I flailed upwards and felt my fist collide with soft flesh. The hands vanished and I lunged to my feet.

"Geez girl, you can really throw a punch," Tyler groaned. He was slumped against the wall. A mess of red and purple was already starting to form on his forehead. His real hand gingerly felt around the bruise, probably checking for blood. His prosthetic hung at his side. One of the straps which attached the arm to his body dangled through the shirt sleeve.

"What do you think you're doing in my room?" I demanded.

"Saving your life," he retorted. "It's not like I had a good reason or anything." He winced as his finger brushed the wound.

"Didn't your dad ever teach you to stay out of people's rooms? How long were you in here?"

"Only a couple of seconds. You woke me up when you started screaming."

"Ha. Hilarious. I don't scream in my sleep."

"You scared me to death. What were you even dreaming about?"

My adrenaline levels were returning to normal. It was just Tyler, not the mysterious visitor from earlier. There was literally not a dangerous bone in his body. Not one that could hurt me, at least.

"You're totally ignoring me," Tyler said.

"Give the guy a prize. Maybe he's not so clueless!"

"Hey, I'm trying to keep you alive! We don't need to give my dad more reasons to kill you." His eyes closed as he lowered his hand. "Oh, what am I going to do . . ."

It didn't take much to guess what he was talking about. "The bruise."

"Does it look as bad as it feels?"

"Worse."

He opened his eyes and reached up his shirt to finish attaching the straps for his arm. I sat on the edge of my bed and waited. He finally finished and was forced to look at me.

"Is it always going to be this way?" he asked. I shrugged.

"It will be as long as you keep being a creep. First the detachable arm, then you wouldn't even look at me at dinner-"

"What, you wanted me to?"

"No!" I clenched my fists, face burning. "I want you to get out of my room!"

"Sorry, can't. Not until we figure out a cover story."

"You want me to lie to your dad for you?" I laughed. "Never gonna happen."

"The alternative is we tell him how I really got this bruise. What do you think he'll do to you when he finds out you attacked me?"

I was the first to break eye contact. "Maybe I'd rather he killed me than be here."

"And maybe I don't want you to die because I went through all the trouble of saving your life. What are we at now? Three times?"

"I don't need your help. I can fend for myself!"

"Face it, girl, you're just as broken as I am. We need each other." I looked back at him, but he was staring at his prosthetic arm. "That's another thing we've got in common. Either of us mess up and my dad would kill us."

I didn't have a response for that. What kind of life had Tyler led? Locked away in this house since he was six. He probably didn't have any friends. He couldn't mess up or his dad would throw him away like garbage.

Were we really that different?

"Destiny," I said.

"What?"

"My name. It's not girl. It's not servant or product. It's Destiny. Get it right."

"Sure. Destiny." He had the nerve to smile at me. "So, cover story?"

"You tripped and hit your stupid head."

He laughed. "Fair enough. Me and my stupid head are going to get out of here.  Maybe try to keep the night terrors to a minimum, ok?"

I rolled my eyes as he crossed the room and pulled the door open.  He glanced back.

"What do you say, think you can learn to trust me?"

"Over my dead body," I snapped.  He turned away and stepped back into the hall.  The door clicked shut behind him.

I debated going back to sleep for several minutes but in the end it seemed pointless.  Tyler's dad was sure to show up before the crack of dawn to make me get to work.  My second day.  I was officially tied with my record for longest stay as a product.

What options did I have left to me?  I could stay here.  Maybe I could learn to cook.  Maybe I'd survive.  Or I could try to run.  The chances of succeeding weren't great.  The building and dome were heavily guarded.  I would probably be killed in the attempt.  But if I escaped it could mean freedom.  It could mean finding my parents.

You couldn't find me like you promised, but I'll find you.