The Constricting Present

Chapter 3

Thousands of thoughts ran through my head at the same time. No, I said, The voice was like a dream. I knew I had heard it before, but I couldn't figure out where. What are you waiting for? I didn't know what I was waiting for. A solution I suppose. The male voice was, of course, not answering. I couldn't open my eyes. My body was once again asleep without me. Code 9-13, what was that supposed to mean? I wanted to knock on the glass and tell I had enough of this shit, and if I can't get more information soon, please. I could hear the others being taken down, hopefully it was my turn soon. They took me down and placed me on the gurney. A set of the hands were a lot warmer than the rest.

They drove me to the examination room. The nurse had dark bags under her eyes. Her posture was off. On the bench next to mine a blue haired guy sat. He had a huge smile on his face. The woman's hand squished my face. "Focus," she said as she held my head. Why couldn't I look at him? Why do I even want to? He looked at me as well. His nurse had already left. I knew him from somewhere. The nurse looked me in the eyes. Her eyes were scared, tired and rainy grey. "Go to changing room 3, then through door 7." The nurse let go of my face and left. He walked over to me, grabbed a pen and wrote something on my arm. I looked on my arm. Under my own tattoo it said: O#801. "That's my name. Honestly it's awfully boring. I promise I'm more interesting," He gave me another pen, "Meet me after lunch," Why should I do that? On the other hand why not? They are going to think I'm crazy. I nodded and went to the changing room.

I got eye contact with myself in the mirror. My muscles were clearly visible under my skin. I wondered if humans outside looked like us. If they are human. Maybe they look like the doctors and nurses. Maybe they look more like us. The girl in the mirror was beautiful. She was more beautiful than I remember myself being. My index finger touched the mirror. "It's real, the world is too real," I thought. The world as I knew it wasn't. It wasn't the whole world, and it surely wasn't real. I changed without more philosophical thinking.

I walked out of the changing room and slammed the door by accident. My stomach was rumbling. I didn't really get any food yesterday. I quickly went over to grab a snack before training. Unfortunately breakfast was after first training session. There were a few apples and bananas at the table. I picked up a green apple and took a big bite. The fresh juice spread in my mouth. It was a long time since apples had tasted so good. I quickly ate the apple leaving only the core in the trash can. I was still hungry, but the apple had taken the worst. I leaned up against the wall. "Do I really have to go to training?" I asked myself. Apparently out loud because the white haired girl nodded. Then she opened the door for me. We walked in together. "My name is C#1," she said. "You're the first C prototype?" I knew someone must have been the first prototype, but I had never met any of them before. After all I hadn't met a lot of people. I had knocked a lot out, but I didn't know many. The training room was already full of people. One hit the floor as I entered. "Someone had to be the first," She said. She didn't sound happy about it being her. She walked over to the queue. My body was still bruised from yesterday. It was almost more blue and yellow than light brown. I bit my lip. It smelled mostly like sweat in the training area, but also a slight metallic smell of blood. It had always been so natural to me, but I had started questioning everything. I placed myself in the queue. Do they really fight that much outside? Or was this part of the world, my world, not like the rest? It was my turn soon. The guy --maybe calling him a man is more appropriate--I was going to fight was gigantic; at least twice as big as me. His veins were visible. His face and arms were full of bruises, cuts and scars. I took a deep breath. It's just another challenge. Life is full of challenges. I put myself in start position. Do they fight so much outside? They have to, if they didn't, then why are they training us like this? I took a deep breath and reminded myself, he's just another challenge. I awaited the signal from the coach. It was going to hurt, but I wasn't afraid. He gave the usual talk and whistled.

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I hope you liked this chapter. Please, comment your thoughts. Also thanks for reading this far, it means a lot to me.

-BirdLysdahl