"If you're lucky to have the finest of genes, then you're perfect."
Paragon is known to be the haven of perfection. A society built on walls, dividing different cities for people with different genetic levels.
Perfect citizens will be automatically...
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Everything falls silent.
"Breath in..." the doctor trails off. "Push!"
And the silence is broken.
Piercing shots of scream blare throughout the operating room, a desperate outcry comes from the woman on the hospital bed. She screams and moans in pain as she endures the overwhelming strains on her abdominal muscles. The lady knows that it will be a torturous moment for her but she has to be strong for her baby. It's there, she can feel it.
Just a little more force.
Random punches from her insides send an increasing waves of cramping anguish which leaves her gasping for air. It feels like her body has been torn apart like a piece of paper and has been stretched as though her skin is made of rubber.
"We're almost there, ma’am," the doctor assures while he rummages through her innards.
"Breathe, breathe, just breathe..." she reminds herself, panting. The lady continues to let out slow, steady pushes in between contractions while battling the fear of something she's expecting from the very beginning. The woman is scared, it's drawn all over her face. She fears to have an unsuccessful delivery or losing her life before she can have the chance of hearing the cry of her infant. Stuck between panic and eager determination, the woman chooses to screech at the top of her lungs as she toils with the bites of pain.
At last, even if she feels like she might past out, the woman summons all her strength to give one last push. Another crack of wail escapes from her mouth but together with it, is the birth of a new life, a life one of her blood. Coated in a blanket of thick, red liquid, the infant finally emerges from her womb.
The woman is exhausted and most likely depleted by large pricks of fatigue, but is still able to smile widely.
She has never felt this happy before. It's overflowing she doesn't even know how to take herself out from the overwhelming bliss she's been wrapped into. She stares at her baby in fulfilment, eyes barely moving, only to notice that there's something wrong.
Her baby's cry, she can't hear it.
Although the poor little boy shows signs of crying;wrinkled eyes, contorted mouth, and movements incited by distress, nothing comes out from his mouth other than sounds that aren't normal for a newborn.
"Ma’am," the doctor hesitates. "The scanner showed some anomalies on your baby, somewhere in his larynx."
“What do you mean ano–oh, God, no. Don’t tell me...”
The atmosphere of the room is changing. Her eyes begin to glass over, staining its beauty with fragments of agony. Outpouring and threatening to fall in any second. She knows that this particular situation might happen but a part of her still hopes that it isn't what she thinks it is.
