The Dome

Chapter 3, tests

I stand in a long dark hallway, pictures of people are on the walls. One of them is a girl with light brown curly hair, and a dark blue shirt. The girl looks exactly like me. I look down at my hands, and see old wrinkly fingers. They are clutched around a long wooden cane. I try not to freak out. "This is a test", I tell myself. I creep up the stairs beside me, curious of what awaits. Kneeling by a bathtub, in one of the doorways, is a woman in a blue flowered blouse. She scrubs a child's head. And then, quicker than I could flee, the woman's head snaps back. I start to run, but my old frail body won't carry me as quickly as I try for it to. But rather than launching for me, the woman softly speaks. " Mom". She softly takes my hand, and leads me to a room with a large bed in the center. The bed is lined with a soft pink lace, and floral pillows cover the headboard. The woman sits me down on a small stool, and softly braids my hair. She calmly dresses me in red silky pajamas, and motions toward the bed. I hear the child crying, from the other room, and try to tell the mother. But no sound comes out of my mouth. "Hush" The woman covers my eyes with her hand. 

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My eyes abruptly open, awakening me from my trance. This feels too quick, too sudden. I stare at Tessie, who is looking over the computer screen. It does not take long for her to quickly say "Different". But if that was my life, what was so different about it? I look at Madge, and my mother, and father. My mother's eyes are wide, and her body is frozen. My father's eyes are shimmery, with tears. And Madge, my Madge, her whole body is shaking. It is common for Differences to run in family genes, which means there is a very likely chance that Madge is Different. When Tessie comes to unstrap me, I thrash at her face with my fingernails, leaving long marks down her face and neck. She wails , like a pathetic dog. I try to run to Madge, I need a goodbye, they can not take me away from her. But they can. The guards' harsh arms squeeze mine tightly. I try to scream, and kick them in the legs, but it is no use. When we are out of the square, a sharp needle pierces the top of my throat. And I slowly feel my body turn limp, and unusable.