This sun is completely ridiculous. I haven't been home in a year since I moved out at 18, and Papa's car decides to break down. It's a twenty-minute walk from the train station to my padres house, and I'm sweating like a pig. On my back I've got three pairs of clothes, a dance outfit, my ipod, a couple of books, and a frigging guitar. This stupid load weighs more than I do. Don't show weakness, hija, you ain't half Latino for nothing, I hear my father reminding me. He was in gangs, the same one my brother got jumped into when he turned 18 two years ago, and he taught me to survive. I suppose that backfired when he realized I could move out as soon as possible and not need him.
So I suppose it's a bit ironic that it is this particular moment that I choose that moment to be so completely absorbed in my own thoughts of survival that I forget to look both ways before crossing the street, and fail to notice the two massive headlights speeding toward me. And in the moment before I am fatally hit my thoughts are not on my life but the face of an older man whose face is alight with glee. Then everything goes black.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Right after the sound, comes the smell of sterility and antiseptic. Donde estoy? Hospital. I must be in a hospital. There are voices coming from the other side of the door.
"Aren't there ethical concerns to this?"
"What are you talking about? She was supposed to die, there was no heir to her line, I've spent years researching this girl and she's perfect. Physically able, destined for nothing, it's perfect."
"Where is she from?"
"I'm not sure, but she's from over two hundred years ago. I daresay she isn't even from the era of the districts. We need a back up plan, Gale. The recent war has left many with ingested radiation and we can't just not have a back up plan!"
"But this? Sucking her out of the- she's waking. Damn it, Lykk, you make the discovery of the century and you can't even pay attention to the subject."
The door opens and the light makes me open my eyes. Two men walk in, but I can only see one of them. It's the same older man. His face still has the same expression of utter and complete joy in it, as if I'm his prized shetland pony. I feel my face fall slack. My finger raises and I find myself pointing at him. "You, who are you? What am I doing here? What's going on? Why am I..." I gave down at myself. Not only am I alive, but I am perfectly intact. There seems to be no blemish on my at all. I look at my shoulder where there was once a scar from getting jumped a block from my house. It's the only scar because I'd hissed my father's name. He was high in the ranks of the gang. "Why am I not splattered in a million pieces on the sidewalks of New York, and what the hell are you smiling at, asshole?"
The younger man in the room, close to my age I think, shoots the older one a look. The older one shrugs, "I wasn't aware of the changes in dialect being so severe. Simply a minor complication."
What the hell is going on? "Excuse me but the minor complication is trying to go home. I was on my way when there was a car and then I wake up here. Now I am perfectly aware that there are a few spaces in my story and I would really appreciate it if someone would fill them in." Be assertive, hija, always take control of your situation. Half of you is Latino blood, use it.
"Hello, I'm Lykk and this is Gale, and we're from the Human resources department of District 2. You, in essence, did die, and your life is about to take a big turn," the older one said.
"That was probably the worst explanation I've ever heard. Did I wake up in the twilight zone or something? I need to be filled in on why I can't go back home right now!" I shout.
Gale snickers, the first sound he's made since entering the room. "She's like a prehistoric version of Katniss, isn't she, but without all the mental distress. Of course with you, Lykk, and she'll be disturbed within the week."
"Which is precisely why you are in charge of informing her of her present circumstances," Lykk grins. Gale's face turns to stone.
Lykk walks out of the room, a smug smile on his face.
"So," Gale begins. "You can't go home. Ever again." I assume he's still talking, explaining things with all the tact he used to break the news to me, says things about capitols, districts, radiation, the real pointlessness of bringing me here in his opinion, his job, getting me to adjust. He begins to say something about how I should be grateful that they saved my life when I inject the needle I've subtly been pulling out of my arm and shove it into his thigh, pressing the button that will give me another dose of drugs a few times. Once I'm sure he's not dead, but thoroughly knocked out I let out a long hardy scream, the kind you can only do with your eyes squeezed shut and your fists clenched.
I'm vaguely aware of the door opening, footsteps flooding around me, people ordering others about. I am only aware of the last echoes of my screams as I slip out of consciousness again.