Two Options, One Choice
I open my eyes and am met with a bombardment of questions and the brightest overhead light, squinting, I try to take in my surroundings: beeping machines, blurs of people in white coats, and… my entire extended family waiting behind closed glass doors. My vision blurs again as everyone is rushing towards me with lots of metal-looking items. I move my arm and the muscles almost shred from that simple movement. What in the hell happened? I think to myself, regaining my composure, I try to sit up, but am met with hands pushing me down, NO! I want to sit up, I need to sit up and see what’s going on. I thrash and thrash until I feel a sharp pain in my arm, I look towards the doctors and they all shrink until my vision fades to black.
This time I wake up in a metal box, with chains on my wrists and ankles, what is going on? I am in a chair in the middle of a small room. The people in lab coats walk in, eyes on the floor, chins pressed to their necks. I stare at each one of them, there are seven in total, seven men with seven lab coats, with nothing in their hands. What are they going to do with nothing in their hands? I wonder. A man walks in the door, he looks evil, with his military badges that could definitely be fake, and a short haircut that kind of makes him look like an egg. His head is very oval, like VERY oval. “Diana, you are a very special girl you know that right?” I stifle my anger and my answer. I have seen enough movies to know what happens next. I could do one of two things:
- I could pretend to not know that he is trying to use me, and be the ‘innocent girl’ and double-cross him later.
- Or, I could be very snarky and have an enemy, who I’ll probably double-cross sooner than later.
The thing is, option 2 sounds way more fun, but possibly more pain, option 1 is just the safer route. I hold my tongue and wait for him to answer, my teachers would be so proud. “The thing is Diana, I have the answers you want. In return, you are going to help me out with a little favor.” I stifled a groan and sat up straighter in my chair, and leaned forward. It is all part of my act. I could be an actress, I would be such a good actress, Hollywood would be lucky to have me. I think to myself. “Diana, I am going to tell you what happened, and then you are going to do me a favor, sound good?” I nod and he begins. “It is really simple, you were hit by a train and you didn’t die” he smirks, I’ll let him think he won this round.
“Was the train moving?” I ask innocently. He growls and nods, just like an animal.
“I gave you what you wanted, so you are going to give me what I want-”
“a better haircut? You have to grow it out or something, it makes you look like an egg. Except without the egg juice, it’s just like brain matter.”
His eyes bug out and a nice vein pops out of his forehead.
“-No, not a haircut” he responds, followed by another grunt.
“Are you sure? Like absolutely positive? Wigs are very helpful these days.” I smirk right back.
“Enough! Shut-up, and listen. I need you to kill the President of the United States.” I stare at him in disbelief. Me, a seventeen-year-old, professional nerd who is frequently in detention for mouthing off, and was most recently hit by a train, is going to kill the president. I want to laugh at the irony of it all, but this is way too serious and he is 100% serious, maybe 98%, he has got to have doubts right?
“Why do you want to kill the President?”
“Power of course. Once he goes down, the Vice President will take over, and then once he dies I will take over.”
“Do you know how America works? One, the president really doesn’t have that much power, so you are probably going to have to kill Congress, and the Senate. Oh, and while you’re at it, you might as well just blow up the branches of government.” I tell them, exasperatedly, how can someone be such an idiot? You are so right. Let us blow up D.C., thank you for all of your help, really.” He nods to a scientist who is holding a big needle, like a HUGE needle. “Bye Diana.” Before I know it, I am looking into the barrel of a gun. This was going to hurt.