Revolution

- 03 -

The first thing I hear is a machine beeping.

That's not right.

Slowly, I open my eyes, trying to pinpoint the noise. It's coming from a metal object behind my head, barely out of my line of sight. I growl and try to get up, but my wrists are encased in cuffs that keep me locked to the bed and unable to stand. I'm laying in a small room that's not my own; thin, translucent curtains act as the only walls, and there's a drip line attached to the inside of my elbow. I watch as green fluid slides down the tube into my arm, disappearing into my veins.

My eyes flick up wildly as the curtain is drawn back, and a woman in a pristine white lab coat steps into the room. She smiles before replacing the curtain, and I realize it's Doctor Selden, the lady who was too nice to me this morning.

She clutches a clipboard with white knuckles and stands awkwardly at the end of the bed. "Hi, Paige."

"Doctor." I yank at my bonds pointedly.

Her eyes flick down to her hands, where she's currently fidgeting with a pencil. "So, I just came to get your opinion on what happened this morning in training."

I noted that piece of information. It was currently sometime in the afternoon or evening.

"We're called superhumans for a reason," I spit out after a moment of deliberation. "You don't have to pretend like you're all high and mighty just because you can't walk stick to walls or see into another dimension."

"I didn't say that."

"Not yet, but I can see it in your eyes. Others have the guts to say it to my face." I sneer at her bewildered expression. "You just like to pretend it doesn't happen and chain me to the bed instead."

"I didn't choose this for you."

I cock my head, feigning surprise. "Oh? So I suppose you were just handed over by your family too? Just like me? Just like the rest?"

She nearly drops her clipboard, and I curl my lip tauntingly.

"I'm here to help you," she murmurs.

"Keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day, I'll start to believe it."

Slowly, apprehensively, she steps forward, sliding her clipboard on the shelf next to my bed. I watch her tensely as she leans above my head. I hear the click as she unlatches some sort of device I can't see, but I know what it is.

"You're trying to distract me."

She shrugs. "Maybe."

She pulls the device down over my forehead and I recognize it as a cold ring of metal, not unlike the one that sits around my neck, but slightly larger to accommodate my head. It rests right above my brows and she flicks down two small pieces that cup my ears from the back. Years ago, the doctors told me this machine measures and stimulates brain waves to generate certain images in a sleep-like state. Normally, when I'm here, they send me calming memories of home; Theo and I running in the park, Theo and I climbing a tree, Theo and I riding some sort of coaster that made me feel dizzy but teeming with adrenaline.

Doctor Selden leans forward in a motion that I think is to inspect the machine, but instead, she whispers in my ear.

"Watch what you're about to see very closely. It's not going to be like the other dreams they make you."

"Give me?" I breathe, keeping my eyes pointed straight at the curtain.

She hums in assurance and backs away, tapping on the machine. Louder, she says "I think this thing is ready to go. Sweet dreams."

The machine purrs to life and my eyes roll back in my head, the words sweet dreams echoing sinisterly in my mind.

I wander the aisles silently.

My fingers trail along the edges of bright wrappers and cardboard boxes stacked on metal shelves. My feet, wrapped in dirtied shoes with torn laces, scuff on the yellowed tile floor.

I feel like I've been here before, but something inside me whispers that I haven't ever seen a place like this.

I've never seen colors like the ones on these wrappers.

But something else grabs my attention. It's a sort of half sob, half choking noise, and this alone is the one familiar thing in this place. I glance around in search of the noise. I pace down the aisle, rolling my feet to quiet my footsteps. I reach a back wall covered with glass, and behind the glass sits shelves of plastic bottles filled with various liquids. My mind whispers that it's soda, and fun logos pasted on the bottles seem to confirm this. The sound is coming from behind the shelves, and to my right, I spot an unassuming door.

I glance around and open it cautiously. It creaks, but I walk through regardless, and the noise gets louder. It's dark back here, the air cool and the walls packed with cardboard boxes with black printed labels.

Against the far wall is a single girl I recognize. She's sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees, but she's inspecting a bottle of liquid.

"Emma?"

She doesn't look at me, instead clasping the plastic bottle to turn it. After a moment, she sighs. "Did you know there's a whole world outside?"

"Outside where?"

She doesn't answer my question. "They don't let us see it. They don't want us to step out of line."

My hand drifts unconsciously to my neck, but I don't feel the collar there. My skin feels abnormally light and free.

"You have, what do they call it, retrocognition, right? You remember every detail of past events."

"I'm a Category 1, but they don't realize how dangerous memories really are."

I pace closer and kneel in front of her. She still doesn't look up. Her cheeks are tear-stained and her nose is a pinkish hue, but she stares at the soda bottle like it's all she has.

"What do you remember?" I whisper.

"The dreams..."

I can feel impatience bubbling in my mind, but I hold it back. "What dreams?"

"I dream of the sun. The beach. The grass." She shakes her head with a small scoff. "I've never seen any of those in real life. It's just been white, and white, and white, and white, and white, and white..."

"Emma, you're gonna be okay. We're gonna figure this all out."

Finally, our eyes meet. I gasp at how bloodshot hers are, and her shaking, pale fingers let the bottle slip to the floor. The clang makes me flinch. Her voice breaks when she speaks.

"You have got to get me out of here."