Set in Ink

Chapter 2

It is time to go through the sanitizer and go to bed. Mama gives me a kiss on the forehead and a hug. Her arms are strong and her body is warm. I can feel the warmth heating my still icy skin. She never kisses me, this must be special.

"Be strong." She whispers into my ear.

I want to respond but I'm unable to. I try to say I will, but the words catch in my throat and disintegrate in my mouth. I give her a fake smile, similar to the one I gave Brookie earlier, only with this smile I don't know how to pretend to be strong. I can't. I want to be strong, but there are so many questions and I think Mama sees the confidence in my smile waver. I think she can tell that it's not real. But if she can, she doesn't say anything about it, so I move on to my dad. He wraps me up in a fierce hug that pushes the air out of my lungs, but it is reassuring.

Brookie gives me her usual wide smile and I pick her up, kiss her on the cheek, and give her a bear hug.

Gramps slaps me on the back and tells me I will be fine. When he does I feel a sharp pain, like there is a bruise covering the area he hit, but I know there isn't. Suddenly I'm aware that my whole body aches. "Did I feel this before and I'm just noticing it now?" I ask myself. That must be it, but I struggle to believe myself.

I get ready to go into the sanitizer, leaving my clothes in a neat pile in my laundry basket. I walk through the door in my room that leads to my sanitizer. I look at it for a while. There is a white, smooth, plastic-looking pipe that comes down from the ceiling, and widens into a large tube. The tube is big enough to fit one person. Then it becomes a small pipe again and disappears into the floor. I'm not sure where it goes. I've never been interested in learning about it.

I step onto the imprints of feet on the floor in front of the sanitizer. The green light on the door flashes and the door opens. The sanitizer says in a robotic, smooth, feminine voice, "Addilyn Griffin, nightly sanitization."

I know that it records this data. I know that there are records kept that make sure everyone sanitizes first thing in the morning and last thing at night. I don't really understand why the government would care who sanitizes when, but they do. I don't mind, I don't see any reason to mind.

I feel the light mist come down on me. The little drops of water shimmer in the light. I feel them kiss my skin. Tickling my arms and legs. Dampening my hair so it appears to be almost black. I stay in the sanitizer, letting the mist swallow me up. I let it carry my thoughts and worries away, so all I can do is enjoy it.

Then the blow-dryer dries me off. I focus on the feeling of the strong wind. It seems sure, like it knows that its only job, its only purpose, is to dry me off. I need to be strong. The Tattoo is no big deal. I will know my purpose.

When I step out of the sanitizer my mind is clear. I feel refreshed, but before long all of the worries and the deep thoughts come back to me. I'm yanked back into reality. After putting on my night clothes, I climb into bed, clean and dry.

With my nerves pulled tight to the point of snapping, it takes me a few hours to fall asleep. I'm afraid. Eventually I drift off into a deep sleep, into nothingness.