"Secrets are offspring of lies. They're like dark clouds that just get larger and larger until you can't see past them; until they're all you are."
"Why did you listen to her? Why did you start the lying? Where does it end?"
"You can't turn back now. You've dredged a pit so deep in lies that now you can't get out."
"Your whole life is a lie."
"The only reason people accept you is because they don't know what you really are."
"Can you imagine what they would think?"
"Your friends... your family... None of them would want you if they knew."
"You'd be tossed out on the streets, like the piece of trash you are. Kicked, stepped on, crushed."
"It's what you deserve."
"They're going to find out."
"The Test will reveal it all. It will expose you for the liar you are; for what you really are."
"I already know everything."
"I know what you are."
I shoot awake, swallowing big gulps of air. As my lungs scream for oxygen, I find myself trembling, feeling utterly cold. That subconscious illusion seemed more like it was right in front of my eyes, rather than some distant fog of a dream swimming in my mind. I could hear the voices, as if they were being projected from all directions and being whispered into my ear at the same time.
I guess as some point in the night my mind finally managed to slow the running thoughts enough for me to fall asleep, but these thoughts followed me in to my subconsciousness, occupying my mind like a thick black shadow. Warnings, implications, undeniable truths.
It's strange, since I never dream. I used to dream a lot when I was a kid, the years following the adoption. Blurry visions of broken cities with fragmented people; a lonely house filled with hundreds of children; a sad woman and a struggling man. It was like looking through grime-stained glass and catching a glimpse of something behind it.
Over the years, the dreams became less frequent, until I stopped having them completely, as if my mind had shut them out.
I take deep breaths, calming my racing heartbeat and thunderous thoughts. I fumble for my phone on the bedside table in the dark. The screen lights up in a soft glow and displays the time: six-thirty. A pop-up notification appears on the lock screen, "Today: Judgement Day".
I shut off my phone and drop it onto the quilt cover. A long groan scratches out of my throat as I slam a pillow over my face and try to smother myself into another dimension.
On the bus ride to school, I surprisingly feel nothing. Its like all my worrying had been expended yesterday, and now I'm just hollow. Those flurries of anxiety and consternation that were thrashing around in my stomach agglutinated and now sit like a heavy pit on my stomach walls. I know its in there weighing me down, but it had transformed into a hard solid that stays lodged in position so that I can't feel anything.
At this point, I realize that there isn't any use in continuously plaguing my mind with distress and presentiment. There's nothing I can do about it — My fate is already living in my blood. No matter how much I torment myself and try to will the problem away, the truth will be spoken through my DNA. It's a twisted form of acceptance; an animal fated to slaughter. So I sit still; unspeaking, unthinking, unfeeling, as I'm being driven on the road towards my doom.
An announcement resounds like a death knell in the school halls, reverberating off the walls. The distinctive wiry voice of our favorite Principal screeches over the system, informing everyone — Perfects and Regulars alike — to assemble in the Central Auditorium.
While throngs of students bustle through the halls, chattering with vibrant energy, I drag my feet, pulling at my collar which suddenly felt way too tight as if it were suffocating me. An image flashes through my mind: the scene of that Invalid girl from yesterday, with her crumpled uniform and crumpled face. I instantaneously run my hands down my uniform, trying to smoothen the invisible creases and wrinkles that adorn my white blouse, making me look like some unkempt philistine.
The Central Auditorium is one of the general areas shared by Perfects and Regulars of the school. By 'share', I mean that Perfects use it majority of the time and Regulars are graced with permission to enter on special occasions like this. Its an area opened up to the public, so its immaculately renovated and refurbished to reflect Trinity Institution's aristocracy (a warped reflection, only holding true for a fraction of the school population that happens to occupy more than half of the school compound).
The Perfects sit in the section closest to the stage, while the rest of us are separated by the tiers of seats — Borders, Normals and the Invalids, who sit on the top tier of gallery seats farthest from the stage where you have to squint to see the person speaking.
I spot Alex's head poking out of the row of seats in the tier below us. Athena and Colette are somewhere in the same tier as I am. Today, I can't bear to look any of them in the eye, lest they notice the murkiness in mine. I sit stoic, listening to the words of our dearest Principal as she gives us the mandatory pre-test harangue.
"Exactly one century ago, to the day, the Gene Test was patented by Grace Cordelia Rosamund, Founder of the empire Rosamund Technologies and great-great-grandmother of one our very own students, Kera Rosamund. This brilliance must run in the blood, since Kera is one of our brightest, most cultured and promising students here in Trinity Institution."
I spot her blond rug of curls down in the front row flipping from side to side as people shower her with praise and favor. I force myself to swallow the bile rising in my throat. 'Culture'? More like purger. What kind of 'cultured' person publicly persecutes someone for no reason other than their lower status? She didn't even get in any trouble for it, even though the whole school was there to witness it. Perfects applaud her, while Regulars are too afraid to open their mouth and get the same bitterness thrust down their throat.
"The conception of the Gene Test has revolutionized the world. Gone is the age of racial, religious or cultural divide. People no longer discriminate by the color of an individual's skin, or their sexual orientation, or their practices and beliefs. That is an ethos of the past. In is the new era of gene superiority, judged on the basis of the purity of an individual's DNA. Society has reshaped itself around the principles of The Gene Test.
"Since the genesis of this test in 2050, when it was still in its infancy and could only provide a very general scope of an individual's conditions, it has evolved over these 100 years to give us a much more detailed analysis into the nature of the genetic defects involved. We are now able to evaluate the extent to which the individual is inclined to each condition, in percentage, so that we can establish that individual's gene status — Perfect, Border, Normal or Invalid — and determine the extensiveness to which we have to enforce corrective measures, based on severity of the condition.
"As majority of you are probably aware, these conditions are split into three categories: Mental, emotional and social. Mental conditions are those of the likes of paranoia, schizophrenia, and insanity. Emotional conditions are of the nature of depression, anorexia nervosa, anxiety... Social conditions are more complex as they encompass more of an inset behavior rather than the dynamics of the mind, such as addiction and criminality.
"Every citizen is required to undergo The Gene Test at the age of sixteen, when these predispositions have planted their seed and begun to take root. It captures the gene at the point of germination, so that we, as educators, can take action to halt its growth before it climaxes to such a state where the process cannot be reversed. We seek to uproot this trait while it is still dormant, through education, preventive medicine and treatment. Rosamund Technologies has begun developing appropriate medication to sedate the culprit gene, in hopes of eventually altering its chemical properties back to a normal state. They have already issued prototypes to all the Regular schools in the city to start the first round of trials.
"For example, those found with the 'alcoholism gene', at risk of developing alcoholism as a condition in adulthood, would be provided with weekly rehabilitation to be acquainted with the detrimental effects of alcohol and monitored to ensure that they develop a resistance to alcohol, as well as be required to take the necessary medication for gene correction. We will monitor this abnormality, and ensure that it is rectified by the moment you step out of these school halls in four years.
"The more fortunate ones of us who are blessed with a 0% percentile toward any condition, of 'Perfect' gene status, have the advantage of being excused from close-monitor or treatment, since it is not necessary as a part of their education experience. These students do not have to carry the burden of a condition, so they will be given the extra time to focus on their academia. We hope you will use this time wisely to excel in your studies and build up your spec, with this advantage.
"Trinity Institution prides itself on being the only school in the city that offers programs for Perfects and Invalids — and all those in between. Most schools are specialized for the curriculum of either class. But here, in Trinity Institution, we enroll students from all walks of life, regardless of familial background, DNA condition or gene status. As long as you can afford the fees, of course."
She begins to laugh at her own distorted form of humor, which is only shared by the students in the front few rows at the foot of the stage, who chuckle along with her elitist statement.
"Here at Trinity Institution, we regard all our students with equal attention. We believe in the values of impartiality, fairness and unity. Based on these foundational values we educate, and expect you all to reciprocate."
I nearly choke on my indignation.
"While it may seem that some students may get more opportunities than others, it is to maximize the potential of our most promising students, providing them with the appropriate platforms to propel them towards greatness. Meanwhile, for those less promising students," No one could miss how her narrow eyes discreetly shifted upwards toward the top tier before fixing back straight with a smile on her stiff face, "we must focus more of our efforts towards correction and rehabilitation, to help the weaker students construct their scaffolding."
"Students, today is the first day towards the rest of your lives. The path your life is going to take will be paved out by the results of this test. I wish you all good luck. May your genes be pure and reflect your worth."
The first tier bursts into resounding applause. It dilutes as we move upwards: the second tier clapping politely, the next tier giving a few half-hearted slaps of the palms and the uppermost tier sharing a collective silence, brimmed with passive resentment.