Young Writers Society

Beep

Beep

Beep

Be--eep

I flicked my eyelids open, the weight of them closing back over my eyes. A iron taste swam through my mouth as I tried the regain my standing. I managed to open my eyes again, keeping them open. White. Was all I saw.

The walls were a flat white, the floor, tile. But the ceiling, it was glass, I could see the clear blue sky from where I was. Next to me was a machine. It was a holographic screen with a live heart beating, under it, it read the name Scarlett Mountgomery. The heart kept on beating, making my palms sweat. It got quicker, causing my ears to spring with pain from the noise. It was like it was beating in sync with mine.

For a second, I froze, just staring at it. Then slowly, I placed my hand where my heart should be, just at my chest and watched the heart. They were at the same pace, that was my heart.

What is your name?

Dafnie Height

Where are you from?

Sector Z, District of Government

It didn't work.

It didn't. work.

It didn't work.

It didn't work.

It didn't work.

I shut my eyes again, taking in a long, deep, breath. That's when I heard a door swoosh open. Pushing the urge to look away, I lied as still as I could. If I pretended to sleep, maybe I'll be fine.

"Exhibit B, Scarlett Mountgomery. District of Land, from Sector B." A man with a deep voice said, making my skin crawl. "Some cases, as is hers, tend to sleep for a long period of time. She will awake in a few weeks."

A few weeks? Why would I sleep that long?

"How long has she been here?" A new voice asked, more young, still deep.

"Just about a week." the older man answered.

I opened my eyes enough, like slits, so I could see who's here. The older man was just next to me. He had a white beard coming in, right now just a stubble. There was an immense amount of wrinkles, but not bad. If I stood up, I'm sure he would be my height. And next to him was a boy.

He was my age, I could tell. His blue eyes were still innocent, his hair was styled, probably came from a rich home. And he was looking at me, not like the old man was. He was looking at me, it made my heart race which made the old man dart to the hologram and check it.

Shutting my eyes, I braced what he would say.

"Maybe she's dreaming. This happens when they are sleeping, they get into a sort of coma state. So what they dream, they believe. I want you to look over this Exhibit, alright?" Well, Old man was ready to leave me with some kid.

That isn't safe.

Why haven't I changed yet? Maybe it's a process and I woke up too quickly. I ruined the process. But everyone told me it would be quick. And you would forget and become.

But I'm still Dafnie. Not Scarlett.

"A nurse will be with her all the time, until she awakes. You an stay here and learn. If she does wake up, she will be confused and shattered. You will not be prepared for that Jonas. The nurse will take care of her then. Now, it is time to visit the next Exhibit."

The doors swooshed closed in a minute and I opened my eyes again, feeling my heart beat so fast, it was about to break my rib cage. The machine beat with it, causing me to take deep breaths. If I let it get this quick again, everyone will know something went wrong.

Changing is not a process, it's a second. They told me, you will be new, brand new, a star. You will be in the District of Warfare. I am none of those. I am a farm girl named Scarlett. But , I am not.

I tried to sit up in my bed, regretting it the minute I started pulling my legs up. A sharp pain stung my limbs, making me bite the inside of my cheeks. What did they do to me? I pushed, making myself sit up, bracing the pain. Then, I moved my legs to the side of the bed, touching my feet to the cold floor.Sterile is about right. There were these silver stickers on my chest and arms. I tore them off, flinging them onto the floor. Next, I managed to stand up.

It felt like someone was slicing my legs open with a dull knife. I fell to the ground, feeling the cool tile against my body. The cold calmed the pain, but I felt my arm throb just underneath my stomach. I pulled it out, lying it next to me, better.

Get up.

Taking a deep breath and holding it, I pushed myself up and stood, letting the breath go. Better. The pain was dull, I managed walking. There was a second set of doors next to the ones that lead out. I went to the other one, the door swooshed open at my presence.

Just in front of me was a floor-to-ceiling mirror, showing what I have become. My hair was not long and blonde, it was a pixie cut and brown. My skin was as pale as snow, scars lined up my arms, they looked deep. I touched them, feeling the fresh scabs growing. Sick.

And my eyes. They were a different color. Not grey anymore, but a vibrant purple that hurt looking at them. I shut my eyes, feeling my stomach grow warm as tears slipped past my horrible eyes.

What did they do to me.