by DK Andrews
in mine.
I open the front door gently and pray she’s sleeping.
When we walk inside, we see Gloria passed out on the couch, snoring.
“Oh, thank God,” I whisper to Micah.
We quickly sneak into the bedroom and get ready for bed. I glance at my bracelet. I want to take it off and run away with Micah, run into the unknown of the dark night. I know it would be difficult, but at least we'd be together. The bracelet is not coming off; it feels like it’s been sewn onto my skin. I know it’s too late to back out on the deal and change my decision.
I catch Micah’s eyes, and he seems concerned about me and the new bracelet. I calm myself down, stop fiddling with the bracelet and give him a warm smile.
“Micah, you can go over to Bennett’s house after school again tomorrow.”
“Yay!” he replies excitedly.
I kiss him on the cheek and tuck him in.
I know I’ve made the right decision. I have to make sure Micah’s got a future. I need to make sure he will be reunited with his grandparents, and that this time they will be able to afford to keep him. I have to go all the way. I need to finish the preparation sessions and make the Conversion. I need to break this cycle of hardship and pain.
With that thought, I make myself comfortable next to Micah and fall asleep.
SESSION 5
The second, third, and fourth preparation treatment sessions were just as terrible as the first one. My life as a toddler, preschooler, and preteen was truly painful and disturbing experiences full of abuse, neglect, and resentment. When I was five years old, I was left outside on a cold autumn night for hours because I was apparently making so much noise that neither Elaine nor Gloria could hear their favorite TV show. I remember it being so cold. I cried and begged them to let me back inside the house, but it only made things worse. Gloria opened the door for me just to give me a slap on the face, and tell me to shut up. I cried for hours sitting outside the door, but they ignored me—they were already too drunk to hear. Somehow, I managed to get back inside through a window. I’m surprised I didn’t die of exposure that night. Another traumatic memory that I was forced to relive in session four was when my mother “accidently” broke my arm because I stole a piece of bread from the fridge. I was nine years old and starving. I had even felt the excruciating pain in my arm and the sound of it snapping all over again. A week after that incident I wet myself in front of the whole class at my school. Once again, courtesy of the Mentior session four I got to relive the full experience of the shame and embarrassment I suffered that day. Throughout all of the first four sessions, one question kept rising in my head. Why did nobody protect me?
I’m not surprised anymore why the Ultima Center makes all Dators wear the Ultima bracelet that allows them to monitor your every move—I’m sure some people would try to escape or end their lives before the Conversion. It seems to me that the Mentior only picks the sad and depressing memories for Dators like me to relive, but in reality, my life is just one big sad memory. After the fourth session, I was so severely depressed didn’t want to show up for the next session and was suicidal. But thoughts of Micah made me get out of bed each day and grudgingly make my way to Ultima. I couldn’t betray him when I’m so close to giving him everything that he truly deserves. The care and kindness that Micah and I continue to receive from Christina have been amazing. She has been able to give us more love and attention in the past four days than Gloria would ever be able to give in an entire lifetime.
So, here I am, once again, standing in front of this gray building. It’s unusually warm for this time of year. Thankfully, I washed my purple long-sleeve knit-top yesterday at Christina’s house, so I’m wearing it today. There is not even a single cloud in the vast sky. It is a pure, uninterrupted blue that stretches seamlessly across my field of vision. I tilt my head upwards and take in the bright sunshine with my face. For a brief moment, I think about escaping again. But, I quickly dismiss it and quickly step to the front door, before I lose my nerve.
Inside the glass treatment room, it’s the same ritual, again and again. After Dr. Kismen meets me at Ultima’s reception, we make our way to the tenth floor to Preparation Room 10.
“How are you doing today?” Dr. Kismen asks while checking and switching on the Mentior.
“I’m fine,” I respond indifferently, standing in the doorway of the room.
Noting my despondency and lack of enthusiasm, Dr. Kismen tries to cheer me up a little with some ill-considered black humor.
“Almost there, only twenty-five days left to go!” Her attempt to encourage and cheer me is not working very well.
“Yeah, can’t wait,” I say sarcastically.
“Now, let’s get down to business. Shall we begin today’s session?” she asks, nodding in the direction of the helmet.
Grudgingly with a heavy heart, I walk towards the treatment bed with my head down and eye the Mentior resentfully.
Dr. Kismen puts the helmet on over my head and lowers the glass visor over my eyes.
The next thing I know, I’m back in the old house. Figures, all of my memories are associated with this wretched house.
This time I’m sitting on the couch and Micah is on my lap. He’s only five years old. I hold him close to me. This is the first time I’ve seen Micah in my memories. He was the cutest toddler you’ll ever see: big green eyes and chubby cheeks with curly hair covering his forehead. I run my fingers through his curls—it is so soft. I kiss him on his neck, and he giggles as he squirms to get away. Gloria is not home yet. My hands are shaking, and my heart is racing. I know what day it is—I will never forget it. I’m trying to think; I need to think quick. I’m through with re-experiencing my memories. I’m not going to submit to the system today. I need to get my head together and think of the plan. But I have to hurry. I’m not even certain that the Mentior will let me do what I plan. I gently put Micah down on the couch and run to the bedroom. I pick up a warm sweater for him. I know what I’m going to do: I’m running away from this ugly memory. I’m not a toddler or a preschooler anymore—I can run fast when we get out of here. However, there is a big problem; I don’t seem to be able to keep the sweater on Micah. Every time I try to put it on him, he slips into it. But, immediately when I look at him, he’s not wearing it. It takes me a second to realize that I can’t modify my memories. I decide that the best I can do now is to try and make an escape as quickly as possible. I’m nearly to the door when I hear Gloria and his evil voice. I’m too late. Mentior has known all along that Micah and I would not have enough time to escape.
They are at the front door now, just on the other side of the porch. We have nowhere to run. I put Micah down and squat to hold him.
“Yeah come in. I mean, she has to grow up one of these days,” Gloria says as she opens the door.
“Sure. Well, let me see her first—I mean what if she’s ugly?” I hear the male voice say laughing crazily and it makes me queasy.
“You ain’t no prince charming yourself,” Gloria says, grinning, and they both fall through the doorway laughing like hyenas. Their shrill, animalistic laughter and snorts echoes in my ears. I put my hands to my temples, and count the seconds until what I know will be the death of my soul.
“Alina, come here!” Gloria yells. I keep my eyes down and don’t move, perhaps they won’t see me I think stupidly. “Are you deaf, you waste of space?”
Gloria stumbles, and she makes her way into the living room, where I stand motionless, like a small animal trapped in the headlights of a semi-trailer.
I stare at her, hoping she will go away. I’m so frightened. Then, my eyes widen as I see him coming up behind her. He’s one of the biggest reasons I ended up at Ultima. He’s the devil who managed in one single act to take everything from me: my dignity, my hope, and my sanity.
“Did you swallow your tongue, Alina?”
Gloria’s eyes are glassy, and she’s a mess, she’s drunk.
“Go to hell!” I screech back because
I know what’s about to happen.
“What did you just say? You little ungrateful brat!” Gloria goes to slap me when he stops her.
“Hey, hey, Gloria, take it easy!”
He grabs her by the arm and drags her back. “There’s no need to scream.” He focuses his bloodshot eyes on me. The bushy eyebrows and deep-set, almost black bags underneath his eyes make them look small. He runs his beady red eyes along my body. Scanning me like bare code from top to bottom. His gaze makes my skin crawl, and I break out in a sweat. I try to swallow my anxiety and start to sob. He’s standing a few feet away from me, but I can clearly smell his disgusting stench.
“So, what do you think?” Gloria says, as she walks to the kitchen and cracks open a beer.
“We have a deal!”
He lurches towards me and grabs a handful of my hair in his hands and starts to play with it, then without warning twists it quickly around his fist and yanks down. It hurts like all hell, and it feels like my hair is being pulled from my scalp, yelping with a pain I move my eyes down to the floor hoping it would open beneath me, like a trapdoor that I can slide through. But I know that’s not going happen, and my whole body shivers with fright at what’s about to happen.
“Two hundred bucks, cash up front right?” Gloria asks, walking towards us, ignoring my pain and distress
“Mom, please no! Help me” I beg her.