Programmed: Raine's Story

.04

It was as if I had never had a breath of air before. As if throughout my life, I had only been exposed to the minimum for survival. My lungs open more than I thought possible, brimming with a refreshing waft of air. It's taste crisp, like a fresh apple. My eyes peak towards the azure sky, admiring the effortless beauty that the world reveals to me.

After leaving the auction house where my life disappeared from my own hands, I found myself urged on a barge. Often, as a child, Evan and I would imagine ourselves on these boats that hugged the shore so closely. He'd tell me that the fisherman used them, and perhaps they did, but this barge that I find myself on is far from shore and there certainly aren't any fish. Alive fish that is. The waves kiss my nose as we fly across the sea, the Mainland becoming farther and farther from view. It's a bittersweet sense of feeling as I watch my entire life fall further into the horizon. I

"Off the deck," I hear a voice hiss from the telecom command, "you're not permitted." His irritated face matches his irritated voice through the window behind me.

"And who so would permit you, sir?" I wink at the man who's face is now red with irritation.

I roll my eyes, annoyed at the lack of freedom that I seem to possess. I tighten my grip on the handrail one last time before whispering my goodbyes to the ocean's tides that seem to say welcome me. I walk towards the door to the cabin of the boat when I'm greeted by a tall bald man. A new face who is dressed far more spectacular than the barge workers. He's a tower to me.

"The name is Nicholas," he begins, extending a hand, "I'm Mr. Heartland's personal butler. He sent me here to insure you get cleaned up before arrival."

His eyes, still focused on mine, as he extends his hand a bit farther. I obligate and shake the hand.

"Nicholas," I raise a brow at him, "I get the personal butler? And I already clean, thank you. The people who decided to sell me already beat ya to that. Also, I never agreed to be sold. So, if you don't mind, we must turn this boat around. Where are we even headed?" I glare at the man, spitting questions at him.

He takes an overly audible sigh, folding his arms.

"Helicopter's going to arrive in," he pauses, glancing down at the shining watch that wraps around his wrist, "precisely seven minutes. Once it does, we will then arrive to the Heartland Manor in a twenty eight minute span. You will be cleaned once more, whether you're clean or not, because Mr. Heartland said so. And as far as who he is, I'm sure he will introduce himself to you." He taps his foot impatiently on the wet wooden floor, "Wait inside, they have small portioned cuisines for you. You must be starved coming from the Mainland. Anything else?"

I shake my head, and proceed into the cabin. Thoughts bounce in my head, wondering what will happen to me. Who is this man who bought the rights to my life? Albeit I am filled with anxiety, I am also eager to see what comes next. I just hope Isaac is all right.

A woman, glassed eyed and overly eager to serve, strides towards me holding a metal platter with different colored crackers on it with little balls sitting neatly atop.

"Caviar on biscuits?" She sings.

I shake my head no, almost gagging with the thought of those squishy balls invading my tastebuds. She smiles and disappears behind a set of doors.

As she leaves the small space, her glass eyes still linger in my head. They're glazed over, almost as if there laid a film of glass between her mind and the world. For a moment, I wonder what is wrong with her, but then I realize something that I had never really grasped...

She's a programmed.

A fear that I had never experience sinks deep in my gut. I'm weighted down to my seat, anxious and unsure of my future. Is that why I was sold? I'm awaiting my end. I'm awaiting my mind to be turned and to inevitably be hosted in my body.