Defect - By Ryann Kerekes Page 0,2

of my temples, then opens my gown in the front, and attaches another over my heart. The cool air nips at me, and I fight a shiver as goose bumps rise across my chest and stomach. She places the last electrode on the end of my index finger. This one is more like a clamp, but it doesn’t hurt.

“Just try and relax. Clear your mind.”

Guard your mind. My mother’s voice shouts inside my head. I shake the thought away.

She walks back to the data terminal, and I turn my head to watch as she flips a switch and twists a dial on the side of the machine where the electrode wires are attached. It hums to life, but I don’t feel anything yet.

She begins with simple questions: My name, my favorite color and the subjects I enjoy most in school. This is just to see the normal patterns in my brain, or so she says. It will capture my baseline.

She twists the dial higher, and a jolt of electricity begins to buzz, working its way inside me, beginning in my head, then coursing and pulsing through my veins, like my entire body is alive with an energy I can’t control. My mind jumps around erratically. I close my eyes and try to relax. My mind goes fuzzy, and awareness of the room around me fades.

I lie still on the table and wait for something to happen. Now that I’ve grown used to it, I’m only faintly aware of the humming buzz vibrating inside my head. My neck is tense, but aside from feeling mild annoyance, I’m not sure what’s happening. Has she started yet?

I focus my breathing and clear my mind. I can feel the table underneath me. I focus on the sensations. I can feel the gown, stiff and scratchy across my skin. I can sense the woman sitting beside me. I hear her steady breaths. In and out. She shifts in her seat, and I peek open one eye to see her hunched over the data terminal, concentrating on the screen.

“Is that it?”

She startles at my voice and hits a button on the side of the machine. She stands and looks down at me. I prop myself up on one elbow and wait for her to answer.

“Wait here.” She heads for the door and steps into the hall, closing it softly behind her.

I wait for a few minutes, again wondering what would happen if I tried to leave, but before I have time to really consider it, the woman returns. There is a man with her. He does not look pleased.

“What’s happening?” I ask when they approach the table. She presses my shoulder down so I’m lying flat again.

“Be still. You need to focus this time,” she says like it’s a warning.

For the first time, I notice the syringe the man is holding and watch uneasily as he flicks the vial of cloudy liquid it contains. He uncaps the needle and pushes up on the syringe until a bead of liquid appears at the tip. I swear I see a smirk on his lips as he brings the needle to my arm. My heart hammers unevenly in my chest, and I feel the needle bite into my skin. I begin to feel its effects and drift into forced relaxation.

The woman ensures the electrodes are still secure and goes to the machine. I turn my head and watch as she turns the dial to its highest setting. A jolt whips through me, chattering my teeth together. I bite down and taste blood, warm and salty on my tongue. I quickly swallow it down.

This time there’s a buzzing pain that builds behind my eyes. I smell something burning, and when I finally close my eyes, visions of swirling dark storm clouds bounce around inside my head, which now feels empty. Guard your mind. It seems important to remember that, although I’m not sure why. I repeat the words over and over in a small part of my brain, the only part I still seem to have control of, before I slip away completely.

Chapter 2

The machine clicks off, its buzz fading into the background, as I slowly gain consciousness. I am dizzy and nauseous from the drug, but can feel the hazy effect wearing off. My body is numb, and my eyelids are heavy. I remain perfectly still on the table, the bright lights overhead warming me. I can hear talking in the room, and though I know it’s likely about