Categories > Original > Sci-Fi
Well, apparently I’m supposed to write in a journal now. They say it’s supposed to help me express my feelings. I might as well try it; I have nothing better to do with my time. My neck hurts, again, always. The beds here are so flat; the pillows might as well be made of cardboard. It's giving me a headache. I could complain about everything in this room. I hate walking on this tile, cold, so cold. It makes my toes want to curl upward, away from the floor. You can feel the cold without even touching it. It radiates about a good inch off of floor. I would rather just stay in my horrible bed, with my cardboard pillows, than have to spend time in general population. Yes, general population. It sounds like prison doesn’t it? Well it might as well be.
The only reason why I’m here, and why five-hundred other people my age are here, is because of a slip-up that the government made, not one that we made. We were sick, all of us. From all parts of the United States and with all kinds of different illnesses, Cancer, MRSA, Anemia, Lupus, and the list goes on. I for instance had MRSA, like I said, had. We were all prescribed a new experimental medication, one that was to completely cure us of our sickness and help build our immune systems. It worked, I felt better than I ever have in my life. I remember the news blowing up with headlines of this new medication for teens. Something about it only worked in the body development in teenagers. I never read too much about it, I didn’t care. All I cared about was being better.
I only had one week. One week of getting to go to school and not feel sick, eat normally, not have to take countless medications that made me feel nauseated. One week of hanging out with people I probably will never speak to again. I only had one week, until they came. The Hazmats is what we call them, the people that come and take you away from everything to this, dungeon because you’re deemed dangerous. Apparently something in the medicine latches on to a part of the sickness that’s still in your body to create a mutation in the body. I don’t really know for myself why we would be dangerous but I’ve heard a few stories.
I remember one day in gen pop, I was talking to a girl named Talia, she told me about when the Hazmats came to her house. They shined this strobe light in her eyes, like they did to me. And I guess they can tell you have the medicine in your system that way because your eyes react a certain way to the light. I thought it was stupid to shine a strobe light in someone’s eyes and not expect to get a reaction. I guess this one’s a chemical one though. Our eyes, turn a shade of purple in the light, when the light blinks, the short time that the light turns off, you can see it. Talia then told me that she started to get really anxious. She remembers holding her hand up in the air and thinking about them getting taken out of her house. Then she watched one of the Hazmats start to float in the air, he was yelling to the others, telling them that this is why they were doing this. She doesn’t like to talk much about what she did, but she told me. She trusts me. You have to have at least one person to trust in this place. She told me about how she lifted them up, without even touching them, throwing them all across her living room, into the walls, bloodying them up. She killed one of them, and that’s why she only gets to be in gen pop for only an hour and a half as opposed to the usual three. She and a few others are in a special part of the facility, punishment hall is what we call it. She isn’t allowed to tell me what goes on in there, but I have a feeling that she’s too upset to tell me about it anyway, but that’s okay.
Apparently all of us can do what Talia did. I haven’t been able to, not here. No one can use their abilities here. The place is reinforced with something that I can’t even pronounce. It makes us into normal kids, which I always thought I was, but I guess not. I guess the only reason I’m finally writing this all out is because I don’t plan to stay here much longer. Talia, her brother, and a few other kids are all planning a way out. And Talia promised me she’d help me get out of here and back to my family. We all will go back to our families. I just want someone to know about this place, about us, about how we aren’t just dangerous kids with a mutation. We are regular kids, kids that were sick, kids that just want to be home.
Suzette Zandt, Ward Z, Room Number 443.
The only reason why I’m here, and why five-hundred other people my age are here, is because of a slip-up that the government made, not one that we made. We were sick, all of us. From all parts of the United States and with all kinds of different illnesses, Cancer, MRSA, Anemia, Lupus, and the list goes on. I for instance had MRSA, like I said, had. We were all prescribed a new experimental medication, one that was to completely cure us of our sickness and help build our immune systems. It worked, I felt better than I ever have in my life. I remember the news blowing up with headlines of this new medication for teens. Something about it only worked in the body development in teenagers. I never read too much about it, I didn’t care. All I cared about was being better.
I only had one week. One week of getting to go to school and not feel sick, eat normally, not have to take countless medications that made me feel nauseated. One week of hanging out with people I probably will never speak to again. I only had one week, until they came. The Hazmats is what we call them, the people that come and take you away from everything to this, dungeon because you’re deemed dangerous. Apparently something in the medicine latches on to a part of the sickness that’s still in your body to create a mutation in the body. I don’t really know for myself why we would be dangerous but I’ve heard a few stories.
I remember one day in gen pop, I was talking to a girl named Talia, she told me about when the Hazmats came to her house. They shined this strobe light in her eyes, like they did to me. And I guess they can tell you have the medicine in your system that way because your eyes react a certain way to the light. I thought it was stupid to shine a strobe light in someone’s eyes and not expect to get a reaction. I guess this one’s a chemical one though. Our eyes, turn a shade of purple in the light, when the light blinks, the short time that the light turns off, you can see it. Talia then told me that she started to get really anxious. She remembers holding her hand up in the air and thinking about them getting taken out of her house. Then she watched one of the Hazmats start to float in the air, he was yelling to the others, telling them that this is why they were doing this. She doesn’t like to talk much about what she did, but she told me. She trusts me. You have to have at least one person to trust in this place. She told me about how she lifted them up, without even touching them, throwing them all across her living room, into the walls, bloodying them up. She killed one of them, and that’s why she only gets to be in gen pop for only an hour and a half as opposed to the usual three. She and a few others are in a special part of the facility, punishment hall is what we call it. She isn’t allowed to tell me what goes on in there, but I have a feeling that she’s too upset to tell me about it anyway, but that’s okay.
Apparently all of us can do what Talia did. I haven’t been able to, not here. No one can use their abilities here. The place is reinforced with something that I can’t even pronounce. It makes us into normal kids, which I always thought I was, but I guess not. I guess the only reason I’m finally writing this all out is because I don’t plan to stay here much longer. Talia, her brother, and a few other kids are all planning a way out. And Talia promised me she’d help me get out of here and back to my family. We all will go back to our families. I just want someone to know about this place, about us, about how we aren’t just dangerous kids with a mutation. We are regular kids, kids that were sick, kids that just want to be home.
Suzette Zandt, Ward Z, Room Number 443.
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