Finding Nemo: A Thriller

Chapter seven

          Nemo's eyes opened slowly at first, the lull of sleep tugging at him. Through the slit of his half-opened eyes was nothing but white.

His eyes popped open. This was not his bedroom. Jerking into a sitting position, he whipped his head back and forth, then remembered.

Trespassing on the bridge. Touching the van. His dad screaming for him come back. Hands grabbing him and tossing him into the van. Sliding to the back of the vehicle when they suddenly hit the gas, passing out when his head slammed against the door.

Suddenly feeling very, very small, Nemo tucked his knees up and squeezed them until they were numb. He was sitting on a narrow bed with a flat mattress and thin sheets. There was absolutely nothing else in the room. Just the pure white bed, the bright white walls, the blinding tile. A door with a small window was straight ahead of him, about two feet from his bed. 42 was printed backwards on the window.

He squeezed shut his eyes, attempting to block out the searing florescent lights above. White spots blinked behind his closed eyelids. Opening his eyes again, he thought he saw movement through the window. The sheets made no sound as he swung his legs down and walked carefully across the cold tile. He noticed he wasn't dressed in his old clothes anymore, but a spotless undershirt and colorless cotton shorts. He'd been made to match the rest of his tiny white world. He ran a hand through his bright orange hair like he was clinging to the last ounce of color that ever existed.

He had to stand on tiptoe to peer out of the window, and was met with a long, brightly lit hallway. Other doors lined the corridor, all marked with random numbers.

Nemo backed away, feeling sick. The world had become white, blinding, blank, and completely silent.

Just as he sat back on the foot of the bed, his door swung open. All the oter doors had swung open too, seemingly on their own. An unseen loudspeaker blared clearly and loudly, "All subjects please exit your pods. Doors will close again in approximately ten seconds."

Nemo didn't waste time. Springing up, he raced through the open door and down the hall. Running past people of all ages, shapes, genders, and colors, all dressed in identical white clothes. Most of them didn't pay any attention to him, but a few called out. One man stood in front of him and shouted at him to slow down. He must have said something, but Nemo was too far now to hear anything.

A big, iron door was at the end of the hall, with a glowing neon exit sign over it. Stopping too late, he slammed into it and yanked on the handle. It wouldn't budge. He kept yanking on it, pushing and pulling and twisting. Hyperventilating, he spun around, bumping into another white t-shirt.

"Hey! Hey kid," It was a girl's voice, maybe in her late teens. She grabbed his shoulders and leaned down to look at him.

Nemo panicked, attempting to squirm out of her hands.

"Hey, simmer down, kid." She said, gentler this time. Something in her voice calmed him down, made him feel slightly less scared.

He stopped struggling long enough to look her in the eyes. She had long black hair, almost blue in the light. Her eyes were a gentle blue and were looking him up and down.

"Oh, yes. They do pick well, don't they, Flo?" She turned and said to the wall.

Her grip on him had loosened, and he ducked beneath her arms. Who had she been talking to?

He kept running, then suddenly tripped over something on the floor. He crashed onto the white tile, tangled in a body.

"Watch it, will you?" The body was a man, lying eagle-spread on his stomach. His meaty head was completely shaved and waxed, a shiny pink. When saw Nemo, his face softened.