chapter two | deluded soul
“And finally we step to leave, to the departure lounge of disbelief.”
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“I can’t believe you!”
My mother’s voice, high and shrill, is the first thing to reach my ears at daybreak. Blinking against the harsh sunlight, I sit up in bed, and listen. My parents are arguing—against each other, clearly. A loud bang echoes through the compound. I frown, twisting a corner of the bedcover in my hands. They’d never fought like this before—which is actually surprising considering they’re both still originates.
Like me.
“I’m a human, Stella. We make mistakes.”
My mother sobs loudly, a wretched sound that makes me wince. “You don’t care. You don’t care. You’re an embarrassment of a husband.”
“Thank you, that’s just what I wanted to hear. And you think you’re any better? You’re still a filthy originate—like me. We’re the same, Stella.”
Her voice pitches, climbing an octave. “How dare—,”
“You want me to go through with it? Fine, I’ll take my Passover.”
I freeze, blood turning to shards of ice. There’s no response from my mother’s end, which means she agrees. Dread fills me inside. He can’t do that. Not yet, he can’t accept his Passover yet. If he does, there’s no doubt in mind that my mother will follow suit—to make him happy; to better herself. I’ll be taken in sooner; the Guards will come for me and call for a termination sooner than planned. If two originates with a defect child Passover, the defect falls into the hands of whichever Center treats his or her town.
Heart throbbing, I stumble out of bed. Maybe there’s a way I can change their minds—sway their perspectives on all of this.
As I walk into the kitchen, all conversation halts and their gazes land on me. Instantly, my mother’s eyes soften with guilt. My father remains hard as a rock, arms crossed tightly over his chest. I don’t have to try hard to inject worry into my voice. When I speak, it shakes.
“You can’t.”
My father’s steely gaze cuts through me. “Why not?”
“I’ll be handed over by the Guards and the Center will execute my termination sooner than planned.” I swallow, internally cringing at how broken up I sound. They need to see that I’m not happy about this, but it needs to be through strength, not weakness. Lifting my shoulders, I raise my chin and look them in the eye. “You don’t want that, do you?”
“Lira, honey…” my mother begins. “You’ll be eighteen in six months…”
“In six months,” I say, “Not today.”
“I’ll see to it that you’re not involved in this.” My father’s voice is curt. He’s already turned a blind eye to my situation and that in itself stings. Avoiding his gaze, I settle on my mother’s.
“Mom?”
Looking torn, she wrings her hands. She’s gone pale in the face—her dark eyebrows popping against her clammy skin. I almost feel bad. Almost.
“We want what’s best for you.” Her voice breaks, gentle brown eyes glimmering. Whatever shred of hope I had left in me has just slithered away. Something in me snaps and I find it hard to breathe. “You know we do. We love you. We really do. Your father and I belong to our counterparts—sooner or later we’re going to have to turn to them.”
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Deluded Soul
Teen Fiction"And my blood is all I see as you steal my soul from me." - My Blood Lira Hudson's eighteenth birthday is in six months, and for her, that means Operation Day is right around the corner. Born without a counterpart-a second body designed and coded sp...
