Unmasking Colors

Needles are inserted into my forearms in every direction. Attached to the needles were transparent tubes, the tubes fasten into a machine next to me. Everywhere I look, all I see are mirrors. But not the ordinary mirrors that people use.

Instead of displaying my reflection, it displays my body figures and genetic information. Lying on the cold metal examination bed, I try to stop my reluctant body from quivering. "My name is Beth, and I will be handling your examination test." The woman sitting on the desk glances at me.


She heaves out a breath and flips a switch on her desk. In an instant a loud sucking noise fills my ears. Blood exits through the tubes and makes it way to the machine beside me. I grit my teeth to prevent myself from making a sound.

Even though I’ve been through 3 examination tests in the past few years, I still cannot stop the salty tears from falling down my face. They're literally sucking the life out of me. I was never used to needles or examination tests and will never be.

This only occurs every time I turn 5 years older than I was before. It's a family tradition not to celebrate our birthdays. Today must be the day I turn seventeen. To be honest, I don't care about my age because age is just a number.

Black specks appear in my vision, and I find myself shutting my eyelids. But, I'm still awake- consciously awake. "Open your eyes weakling", I do what the voice tells me to.
Blinking a couple times, I look at the woman who was looking down at me.

Beth's eyes were solid purple, I’m intimidated by them. My head and neck are drenched with sweat. And I can't move any muscles or limbs no matter how much I try to. My breath shortens and I panic.

What is wrong with me?

"Don't bother trying to move. You're paralyzed for a few minutes." says Beth tonelessly. She sits at the edge of the examination table and clutches on to my hand. "You did well," Her lips form a straight line. "Am I normal? Is there anything wrong with me?" I stammer her facial expression becomes blank.

"It seems like your life span is shorter than it usually is. Have you been eating or drinking anything that might've done this to your body?" There's a hint of curiosity in her expression. "No," I mumble; I was always expected not to ask for more of what I have.

To eat what's prepared. It is required to act this way. I keep my mouth shut letting Beth do the talking.

“Your imprint generates abnormal reactions. And you have to be careful;
you don't want to lose your imprint do you? You don't want to live like the Aberrant."
She warns me, but I'm not convinced.

Beth stands up from the edge of my examination bed. She goes toward a table full of another set of syringes.

One hand is clutching the syringe tightly, and the other attaching a dose of some sort of medicine. I finally had the strength to sit up. “One more shot, this is for your immune system and your GHM." Her lips curl into a smile.


I never really knew what a 'GHM' was, I've always heard this term every five years or so. But, I shouldn't worry about what it means.

I should be worrying about how I will tell my mother that there's a possibility that I'm going to die before her.

As she approaches me, I tilt my head exposing the veins on my neck. I get the same shot every five years; it's not so surprising anymore.


Without a warning she inserts the needle into the vein making me jump. I could feel the liquid spreading throughout my body. What they used to do was warn us before it got inserted into our necks, but because we've reached the maturity age, warnings aren't applicable anymore.

Placing my feet against the floor, I attempt to walk but I end up falling down. Like a toddler who is still trying to accomplish her first steps.

Beth helps me up by holding my elbow leading me to the door. Before I turn the knob, I can feel her breath beside my ear.
"Your mind is also showing a fault." I could barely hear what she said.

What does she mean by fault? I’m not normal am I?


Feeling weak, I wobble my way out of the examination room leaning on the wall for balance. I press the elevator button multiple times until I hear a ding.

It opens and I squeeze into the elevator cart. Despite having tingling sensations happening throughout my body, my chest is awfully tight almost like I'm suffocating.


I shouldn't have taken the elevator; the stairs would be a better choice. Within a few seconds, I hear a ding and everyone rushes out of the elevator. The cafeteria looks confined and messy, although it's separated into four parts.


Overall it just looks like a sea that consists of yellow, blue, white, and black. Teenagers wearing yellow jackets run around playing hide-and-seek in the crowd. One of them tackles me accidently, and I am left on the ground. But this time no one bothers to help me up, so I have to help myself.


Everyone has their own spots. I sit next to a boy named Sehun and his best friend Kai. I immediately notice their freshly trimmed bowl cuts. The hairstyle every Tacitus male teenager has to have.


As for the females, medium length hair that's always tied into a pony tail, accompanied by side bangs that brushes the eyebrows. We don't usually let our hair grow too long, nor do we style it.

Most Tacitus has fragile bodies, bodies that are made for office work. Sitting on the bench, I turn my attention to The Delstaticuses who were playing a game; every few minutes I would hear a roar of laughter. I wish I had a different imprint.


But 'wishing' is considered a stupid thought here. So don't even think about it.


The dismissal bell suddenly rings and I gulp down my food as fast as I can; almost choking for a second or two. Staring at my shoes, I exit the doors of The Head-Commons Institute. Rain starts pouring, hitting the pavement vigorously as I stop to put up my umbrella.

Standing at the edge of the sidewalk I wait for a bus to come. Minutes pass by and the bus arrives stopping abruptly in front of me; splashing me with a wave of water.


Extremely cold and shivering, entering the bus I don’t bother to say anything to the driver. Scanning the seats, I look for the sign that says: "Designated for a Tacitus," and I take it.

The boy beside me smiles at me; I do not look at him.
He is far way up into the inverted triangle than I am.


I press a button to let the driver know I need to get off at the next stop. The bus stops and I grab my umbrella from the top shelf of the bus.

After walking a few steps, I see the boy I was sitting beside a few minutes ago in the bus, and he is running towards me. "Uhm, Excuse me." He says I turn my attention to look at the boy. "I'm afraid you're mistaken. You took my umbrella!" He exclaims.


His name is engraved in the umbrella: Byun Baekhyun
I bow more than three times. "I'm sorry." I say after each bow. I try not to make eye-contact. But somehow it just came to both of us.

Light shades of purple glimmers inside his eyes, making his jaw look softer. Aside from his eyes, the blue blazer he was wearing did not match his skin tone, making him look dulled out.

In my perspective, he wasn’t tall, but average height. His hair is short and slick, but ruffled messily. Mature and... attractive, I thought.


"It's all right”

Breaking our gaze, we quickly exchange umbrellas and head to the opposite direction. I could feel my cheek flush. I couldn't help but smile at myself. But that smile turns into a compressed moan.

How could I be so embarrassing?


The rain had left a dewy pertrichor on the concrete pavement. My feet splashes into small puddles while walking to my house.

The roads and sidewalks were bumpy, even taking one step my feet already aching. I do not own a mansion with a swimming pool, or a three-level luxurious apartment. Expect that from Oblivious. I'm just happy I don't live in tents like the Reckhettus,


well- some of them do. Some of them are so daring they sleep outside with only a jacket and a pair of pants on.

As I enter the front gates, I see my mother. She approaches me and pats my shoulder. Hugging will only cause our body to go ridged. I’m praying that my mother doesn't ask about my examination test. I'm not supposed to talk about it to anyone or anything, Might as well follow this rule.


My older brother Jaeson leans his muscular body on the door frame. It's his way of showing off how cool he thinks he is. "How's your examination test little sis?" He asks me directly. I flash a fake smile and my ears are starting to burn.


"It's normal as usual." I lie.
I feel a pang of guilt go through my chest.
This is the first lie I’ve ever made.


I feel like my insides are starting to rot. I stop slouching and I straighten my shoulders-trying to look confident. "It's good to hear that! I'm happy for you!" He gives me a grin. He believes me right away. Tacitus are not supposed to lie.


We have to stay truthful, that's why you can trust everyone who is a Tacitus. My heart feels like it's withering to pieces. It's just one tiny-white lie, I tell myself. They're not going to find out-They're never going to find out.


Examination tests are always hidden from family members. So only you could know what your statistics are.

Your family cannot interfere with your own mind. We all have the same way of thinking, acting, behaving, basically the same human nature. But it seems like I'm the only one who has a different nature.


And I have to keep that hidden, if I don't want to get taken away from my family, or suffer death. It's bizarre I know. No child ever speaks at the dinner table, unless spoken to.


It was Tuesday, the only day we get to go out alone. After finishing my dinner I grab my sweater. I try to exit through the door without being asked where I'm going. "Where are you going?", "I'm going out for a jog." I say. I have to relieve my guilt somehow.


I start running as fast as my legs could take me, breathing in smug. Every minute I wipe my face with my sleeve drying the water that has escaped from my eyes accompanied by some sniffles.


Everyone knows exactly who they are, where they belong, their purpose of living and most importantly how normal and average they should be. And then there's me, the typical duckling who is hiding piles upon piles of unwanted attributes and can't seem to decipher who they really are.


Without paying attention; I clumsily trip on something hard and ridged-falling face first. I see a hand beside my face. I grab the hand, and I get up, dusting myself off. "Uhm Thanks." I say casually without looking at the person's eyes.

HIs palm lands on my shoulder.


I look at his face; I've never seen him before. Jerking my shoulders away from his huge hands, he says: "No problem." And I start running away from him. All I hear is his footsteps. The louder they grow the more frantic I become. He doesn’t stop following me, and I need to find a quick way to defend myself.



A hand goes over my mouth, and I let out a strangled scream. Tight hands wrap around my abdomen, dragging me somewhere I don’t know. "Why the hell did you lie!? As far as I know Tacitus are supposed to stay honest and loyal." His deep voice vibrates. Sending panic attacks to my brain.

His grip was tight like a piece of gum that is stuck to your hair. My mind is about to collapse. How did he know? Is he a guard? Is he a stalker!? With one hand he reaches into his back pocket, a knife is clutched in his hand.


I’m going to die; I’m going to die; I’m going to die.


I could feel his stale breath against my skin. Without hesitation, it approaches my neck. A sharp pain goes through my neck. I start thrashing my arms around his grip, even landing a punch right at his jaw.

I'm screaming as much as my vocal chords allow me to. Blood was dripping down my lower neck. The wound was deep enough for a scar to appear. My cheeks are dry with no new tears wetting them.


The boy quickly lets go of me and runs away-what all criminals do. I lay there on the ground with my neck bleeding continuously.

The bleeding doesn’t stop; even after apply pressure to the wound. I look at my hands; they are covered in my own blood. Rocking back and forth on the pavement, a half-scream, half-sob comes out of me.


I shouldn't have lied. This is what happens if I do.
Gasping for air, my eyes pop open and I am lying on the floor of my bedroom. I must’ve fallen off of my bed.

Touching my neck; there’s no scar or wound. I use my shirt to wipe the excess sweat off my arms and neck. It was just a dream, and I’m praying that it won’t be Déjà vu. It never happened and never will. I stare at the clock in my bedroom.


Midnight had passed.

Notes