M3RG3

Chapter 2

I gasped, jolting back to reality. The pressure of the knife was gone, yet I could still vision crimson drowning my arm in a sickening red. The hallucination continued looping over and over again in my head, haunting and taunting me, etching its gory details into the depths of my mind.

"See me as soon as possible." The doctor was frantically typing something into the computer. "Here's my card. You can leave."

"What about Lyla?" I gestured towards the slumped figure lying next to me. "Aren't you going to wake her up?"

He sighed and yanked away a few cords and wires. Lyla, unlike me, calmly stood up and nodded at me. "Let's go. There are other people out there waiting for their turn."

The doctor shoved the card into the pocket of my faded blue jeans. "Find me." He whispered, ensuring that I was the only one who could hear his words.

"Arista, let's go." I reluctantly followed Lyla outside, away from the only person who could give an explanation of his strange reaction.

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"No freaking way." I was gaping at Lyla's grades of perfection. She truly wasn't lying about her amazing academic grades.

"I still have to work on my geography and languages. I'm okay at French though." She mumbled, frowning at the few grades that 'tarnished' her report card.

I pointed at the 90% mark printed next to the French section. "You call that okay?! I get like 70 something percent each time!"

She shrugged. "It's not 95% or above. Besides, getting good results don't grant you a good life."

"What else are we getting good results for then? To brag? The Republic gives us a good life if we are smart enough." I shrugged back.

"And flawless. Which is impossible." She shared a smile with me, but it wasn't happy. "Oh, the irony. How they tell us to be perfect when it's impossible to be."

"You're fifteen." I raised my eyebrows. "Yet you sound like my mum."

"Sixteen." She corrected. "I try not to be, but it doesn't work all the time. Sort of like how I memorized pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis."

"You did not." The word was just as head aching as it was lengthy.

"It came in handy during the spelling bee." She shrugged. "Besides, it was fun."

If this was her version of fun, it would be my definition of hurling out of the window. I stared at my paper again, willing the permanent numbers printed on it to change, like how I somehow altered the simulation to fit my needs. However, that was fiction. This was reality.

"Stop glaring at your results. They aren't going to change." Lyla smirked and added, "Please don't ask me how I knew what you were thinking. It's unnecessary."

"It's just..." I trailed off, trying to find the perfect word to fit into my sentence.

"You're jealous." She bluntly stated and patted my shoulder. "Don't worry, it'll pass."

I scoffed, shaking my head defiantly. "As if."

Lyla's expression turned serious again. "Can I ask some questions? Promise me you'll answer them honestly and truthfully."

I nodded absentmindedly. "Sure, ask away."

"How did you open the door? And how did you leave the simulation?"

I knew it. Dang.

"Can I not answer these questions?" I smiled.

"So you knew how you did all these legendary things," She smiled, satisfied that she received part of the answer she wanted.