Who are you?
She lifted her hand to the glass. The reflection did the same. She watched her lips move, forming words she didn't say aloud. Mdg 115 Reika 12
Not the pain—they had erased that with happy-light sedation and a rainbow-flavored gas. She remembered the sensation of being taken apart. A feeling like a thousand cold fingers pulling at the threads of a sweater she hadn’t known she was wearing. When she woke up, her body was a stranger’s house, and she was a guest who had forgotten the way to the bathroom. Who are you
In the glossy brochures pinned to the waiting room walls, “MDG” stood for Mono-Dermal Genesis . It sounded like poetry, or the name of a new shade of lipstick. In reality, it was the slow, quiet calcification of a soul. She watched her lips move, forming words she
The bullies, sensing no prey, left her alone. You cannot hurt a girl who no longer flinches. You cannot make her cry because the machinery for tears had been repurposed into cellular repair protocols.