"Austin, sweetie, I don't know how to say this, but you are going to die," was the last thing I remember hearing before I fell to the ground numb, blackness surrounding me.

There, my thanatophobia slowly took away my consciousness.

The next time my eyes opened, I was in a daze, a familiar room with the familiar scent of rose petals- my MOM'S ROOM!

I blinked twice before looking around. On the chair beside me sat my mother, paler than usual. Her blonde hair was flowing down her shoulders and her eyes remained closed. I couldn't help but notice the tear stains lining her cheeks. That was when I realized that she had been crying and all that I experienced was real.

I was definitely going to die...I started hyperventilating and in that shock, I think my hand struck the clock on the dresser, which fell to the floor with a loud clunk. I remembered how mom gave me advice to calm myself in case a phobia struck. Racking my head, I finally recalled her instruction: Joke about it or laugh simply!

That's when my mom's eyes opened and she stared at me looking like a scared little puppy.

She immediately got up and raced to me, holding my hands and whispering things. They didn't register in my mind but her very presence seemed to have calmed me down.

"Austin, baby, I know you have a lot of questions, but you have to calm down first," she said sweetly. I hadn't heard her soothing voice in quite some time and something about her tone seemed to make me feel safe.

I slowly nodded.

"OK, tell me everything you know about your phobias," she asked diplomatically.

"Well, ma, my knowledge of this whole thing is only as much as you told me," I answered innocently.

"Monica! I am your mother and I know you searched about it," she exclaimed.

"Mom!" I whined, "I hate that dreadful name!"

She gave me a look and I cowered.

"OK," I said sheepishly, "I may or may not have researched about it with Dez," I answered honestly.

She glared at me and like a parrot, I started telling her everything I knew.

"So based on some website, development of phobias is scientifically termed as Mentis formido and it was a result of the government-based SMARTIFY MOVEMENT for the 'smartification' of young children to increase the General Intelligence Quotient Ratio," I stated exactly as I found it, air quoting smartification, "All the regions were experimented on were termed as SUBURBS or Suburban Test. At three, I was put into a machine that was meant to increase the memory capacity and enhance senses. Fortunately for me, the stage one smartification worked, but for many other kids it caused cancer. For those who completed Stage I, they showed side-effects on hitting puberty. Some lost their senses like vision or touch, while others developed irrational fears like me," I continued monotonously.

Mom stared at me wide-eyed, gesturing for me to continue. She slowly got up from the floor and sat beside me on her bed.

"So, in 2030, a group of scientists teamed together, calling themselves, 'Smart Nation Research Group' to research and find a way to modify the intelligence of human children. They had been working and testing on animal babies to obtain an IQ higher than normal. On 17th November,2029, marking the ten-year anniversary of COVID-19 outbreak, today termed as Survivor's Day, human children were experimented on by them. Across the US, children between ages 2-6, in at least 55 districts were 'outsmarted' or smartified as a result of this. By 2039, it was declared a partial success," I recited the article I had read earlier, thanks to my photographic memory, again because I am a genius, not bragging. At least something good came out of that experiment.

Cause once again, I'm smart!

This was followed by silence and I saw mom lift her hand. For a moment, I thought that she was going to caress my cheek and tell me this was all a joke, but that was until I felt a sharp pain in my arm.

"Stop hurting a dying boy!" I groaned. I realized that the joke thing was helping.

"Didn't I tell you not to try and find out about this?" she asked, rubbing her temples in frustration.

I nodded, "But it's not my fault you turned me in for experimentation and now I'm naturally curious," I answered back, hating myself for being a mere labrat.

She lifted her head to meet my eyes and lifted her hand again. This time as if on instinct, I shielded myself from her, but the feel of her soft hands on my face, made me lean into her touch.

This was something I missed. We had grown distant once I started developing the side-effects, around my fifteenth birthday. It was because, back then, I knew mom had something to do with it and I loathed her for a while. She never approached me either, maybe it was guilt, but apart from slight teasing and talking, (we never hugged) I hadn't shared a moment with her in quite some time.

And if being sentenced to death would bring us closer, then so be it.

As she held my face in her hands and stared, I noticed the tears, lining her eyelids, "I'm so sorry, sweetie. It's all my fault. If only I had put some effort to protect you.." she trailed off.

I looked into her eyes yet again and could see the guilt and regret, lined in them, "Mom, it's fine," I said calmly, surprising myself. I have been holding this grudge for at least four years now.

"But, you need to help me understand the situation," I told her, "I'm very confused, I mean I get that I will die, but I..I can't.." I fumbled.

And for the first time in four years, she pulled me into her arms for a reassuring embrace. And I clutched onto her as though she was the only lifeline I had.

"Ask what you need to. Today, I will answer them. But for now, we have to push our emotions aside and talk like robots," mom stated firmly, once we pulled away and I smiled at her.

"Mom, how are you alive and here?" I asked the question that had been bugging me since I saw her, "Weren't you bed-ridden?"

"Bed-ridden?" she asked appalled, "So that's the excuse your dimwit father used?"

"Excuse?" I asked.

"Now this is a long story, so brace yourself," mom said as she flipped her blonde hair behind her shoulders, "I work for a secret organisation called SURF - SubUrban Recovery Foundation, an organisation working on reversing the 'smartification'" she stated.

And I recalled the Fraser's spiral and golden letters in that strange room.

"Huh?" was all I could get out, "I thought you were a doctor?"

She smirked at my confusion, "I was, back when you were three," and saying so her smirk died away, "I quit that job immediately after you started showing the symptoms."

She stayed silent for a while, before shaking her thoughts away, "I worked at this place called New Hub MediClinic around the time when this Smartify Movement had started. So as initial human subjects, the children of doctors were chosen. Unfortunately, back then we were located in Pleats Maine, which was a suburb and you fell into the category. They asked us - more like threatened - us to allow our children to be a part of this 'groundbreaking experiment',." she said sniffing, "If we wouldn't have complied, they would have termed us terrorists and exiled us!"

I hugged her tightly, allowing her to sob out all her pent-up frustration. Slowly she pulled away.

"Mom, I forgive you, but are you OK?" I asked her.

She nodded.

We remained quiet for a few moments before my curiosity built up, "But that doesn't explain the being bed-ridden excuse?"

"OK, SURF is an illegal foundation that I now work for as head scientist of Suburbs 1 through 10," she explained, "Remember our house caught fire?"

I nodded.

"Well, the mysterious fire was due to an acid spill," she stated glumly.

"Wait, so it was your fault?"

She winced.

"For a genius, you sure take a long time to catch on," she stated sarcastically.

I shook my head in amusement. For the longest time I thought my mom was a boring doctor and now I learn that she is a scientist, is doing something illegal and almost set our house on fire! WOW! That's awesome.

"How is this relevant to my question, though?" I asked.

"Ya, so since the organisation is illegal, we didn't want to draw attention to the house fire and give away the acid spill, so I had to go undercover. You're dad knows about this and I asked him to make an excuse to convince you, but that doof went ahead and got me 'bedridden'!" she exclaimed.

I was now laughing.

My parents were the weirdest couple out there. They would pull each other's legs, call each other names, yet love each other regardless.

"So, tell me all about that secret tunnel and lab and where exactly was I?" I asked.

"Since I'm a scientist, I need a lab and you were in mine. You were never meant to find this. Actually, you were never meant to enter, " she said slapping me again.

"We were working on a cure to reverse the effects of the SubUrban Test."

I looked at her in awe, "Please tell me that it worked!"

"It did," she said and my smile widened, "Almost," she added.

I was bewildered.

"The cure was the solution you drank, but unfortunately it was supposed to form in one month and you drank it two weeks before the due date! The sodium allurate would have only been midway full formation, so it is like slow poison, currently," she bellowed.

At this, I shuddered.

"You sure get all of your idiocy from your father's genes," she grumbled.

Oh! That's why I was going to die.

We were enveloped in yet another layer of silence. The silence was getting to me.

"Ok, you told me that I would die, how long do I have to live?" I asked, slightly terrified of her reply.

She stared at me for a long hard moment then replied,"You have two months maximum. But, based on my calculation, you get a total of 55 days."

"Is there any way I could survive?" my voice cracked.

Mom looked at me sadly, then her eyes widened.

She got up and started pacing, while my eyes followed her.

Suddenly, she stopped, "There is a way, but there is no guarantee you'll live."