The BiPolar Project

The First Test

Makenzie Dahl

Today was the day that determined if I would ever get a shot at freedom again. I wondered what the tests would consist of. Just a sit down and fill out multiple choice answers was what I had imagined. Once I got into the test room there was no table and pen, no paper, not even a computer to take a test on. Just a grey room with a single pedestal coming up from the tiled floor.

"What is this place?" There were no cameras or anyone else in the room. The room was vacant excluding myself. A door opened on the opposite side of the room from me opened and Dr. Wells came into the room with a metal box.

"Like it?" She gestured to the room. "My mother paid for the expansion." She put the box on the pedestal and unlocked it, but kept it closed. She walked back across the room to where the door was, a few feet away from the door. "The test is a simple task, yet it is going to be a difficult decison for you to make."

"What do I have to do?" I asked, trying to sound calm. I wanted to know what was in that box.

"Open the box, take out what's inside and make your decision." That didn't sound so bad.

I walked to my ticket to freedom and opened the box. I froze in horror once I saw what was inside. She was one of them. I looked at her in rage. How could she do this?! How could she make us believe she actually cared about us? Using our childhood memories as bait. It made me sick.

"Did you read the note?" I didn't even see a note. I looked back into the box. It read,

I used to think people with your Disorders were monsters, until the day I met you. You changed everything. Prove one of the theories wrong; mine versus their's. Take the gun in your hands. Two of us go into this room, only one can come out.

Dr. Elaina Wells.

I wasn't angry anymore. I was afraid and griefstricken. Neither of us were even dead yet. I took the gun in my hands and lifted it. Before I pulled the trigger, I said my final goodbye. I closed my eyes.

Rumor has it you feel no pain when you take a shot to the head. All I know is, I felt the shot. It hurt. I can't speak for people who actually shoot themselves. All I knew was what blanks felt like. They hurt. It wasn't until I heard Elaina's voice that I knew I wasn't going to die rotting in a prison.

"Congratulations, Makenzie. You passed the test. You're going home." Home? Where was that? To me it was a distant fond memory. It was now my reality. I hoped it was a good place.