MMCX

Arya

A song is always in my head. Whether I'm running or drawing or tying back my hair or trying to get just a fraction of sleep, there is always a little tune in my mind, words or lyrics or just notes repeating over and over again as I repeat the action. I would be running, and with each step, I would think of one word in the song, and then a couple more lyrics and words, until I would eventually repeat it again. My mother would hold me in her arms, the sun dappled and the wood of the porch glowing a rich brown in the warm light. She would smile, her dark skin gleaming and shiny, and then push a bit of hair from my eyes and tuck it behind my ear. 'Love, you have such a great mind. All of those little notes and melodies will create the greatest symphonies ever thought of. What a beautiful young voice you have, little bird. Fly away in those harmonies and that music of yours. Fly away, little bird.'

The memory of the porch and the patio brought a smile to my face, so I turned it downwards, focusing on my paperwork. Here, smiles would be considered a sin. Here, you best not give other people hope of a less dreary light by just letting them view your shine. Don't show people hope and love and happiness because that would just be mean, just be teasing them and toying with their feelings.

I was sitting in a small room, with two other people. The walls were all white here, and I was sitting at a small black stool in front of a long white table covered with brown files. I rolled up the sleeves of my lab coat, feeling vastly uncomfortable in this cheap plastic material, right over my gray sweater-vest and black jeans. I pinned up the sleeves with a small and bent metal paperclip, and then got back to working on the vials in front of me, emitting a greenish hue. There were little inscriptions on each vile, and a stack of notes written about them, in a little messy stack on the side. I was sitting in the middle of this v-shaped table, a guy to my right and a girl to my left. I had yet to learn their names, for unnecessary talk was strictly prohibited. That and I was extremely socially awkward. It might have been a blessing that with the new era, people were not supposed to gather in groups, and unnecessary talk was something that no one wanted to risk.

I turned towards the microscope, and placed my eye to it. I was one of the many scientists working here. People like me who showed special aptitudes in science and mathematics were brought here, to the capitol, where we were told to work without asking any questions. We were only given the information needed to complete the tasks, and nothing more. They took me here when I was in primary school. They never let me pack any of my things, as soon as I finished the survey, they dragged me into a van and brought me away. They never gave me a chance to say any goodbyes, not that I would have anyone to say goodbye to. My mother had died in a neighborhood shooting when I was just six, my father nothing more than a nameless and faceless thing that had brought me to life, and then decided not to be a part of it. I had lived in a couple foster homes, 7 to be exact, and kept running until they ran out of homes and placed me in an orphanage. I had no friends there, was forced to wear bleak tones and little to no colors, and slept in a small bedroll in a small room with 20 other children.

I adjusted the microscope until the strand of DNA came into focus. My supervisor had asked me to analyze it for anomalies, or unusual factors. I ran my eyes down it. It would have been impossible to see it, but I had it dyed red just hours ago. I kept looking, and then decided that, to see it in focus, I would need to photograph it and look on the computer. I held the small black camera to the microscope lens, and then took a photo. The cord hanging from the camera connected to the computer, and the image was directly uploaded and shown on the big screen.

I swiveled in my stool, and took the mouse, focusing the image until I was able to distinguish the separate compounds in the DNA strand. I double clicked, bringing it into fullscreen, and bent back the computer screen so it was angled upwards. I grabbed the small touchscreen pen, and began circling the different parts and writing notes on the side. I ran down the lines of DNA, and then I reached an anomaly. It was a chemical that was not normally produced by the human body. I double tapped the image of the DNA strand, and stood up, walking to the see-through whiteboard and then double tapped on the whiteboard, making the strand of DNA appear on the whiteboard in perfect clarity.