Meet The Family

And then I startled awake.

Panting.

The world was weird.

It didn’t make sense.

Why were my breathes so canned? So hollow?

Why did the air feel room temperature as it moved in and out of my lungs?

No variation. No temperature change.

Like being locked in a…

I have no idea how long I was out.

Loss of time. Then you wake up in a space.

The unfamiliar kind.

You go to sleep in one bed. Wake up in the same. Then you go to sleep in another bed after your life changes… Your whole world is different. You wake up some place else this time.

There’s that weird fugue.

The confusion.

The unsettling feeling that you’ve been moved. You’re not where you went to sleep. Or where you’re used to going to sleep anyway.

The last bed I was in before I was on that bus was my own. At the Indianapolis shelter. Then I was getting snatched out of a stolen car for being lewd and indecent in a mormon shelter.

Cognitive dissonance of the day your GPS data changes on your phone, right?

Only I’d never have a phone.

The morning you woke up in the new house your parents bought?

That was never me. Just pointing out the parallel.

All I saw was blank walls.

The remains of toothpaste on them used to hang clippings that no longer existed.

The last vestiges that someone else lived here before me.

Then it all came back. My confusion cleared.

My life wasn’t a nightmare.

My nightmare was real.

Just thinking about the humiliating circumstances of how I threw my life away ate at me.

I flushed my life down the toilet masturbating like a fucking virgin in a parking lot.

Now I ran a massive chance of being a virgin for the rest of my life.

God that stung.

I was on the 9 o’clock radio broadcast that same day when it happened.

Deviant sex offender masturbating in a parking lot near children.

And of course they used the worst mugshot of me in the local towny paper.

Even now as I woke up I could feel it though.

The squeeze. The sound of it squeaking as I roused.

“Good morning, Cabbie. You have 24 new messages.”

“What?” I said, one eye barely open as I sat up on my uncomfortable, slab bed.

It was the thinnest mattress money could buy sitting on a metal slab jutting out from the wall, hovering above the floor by its one mounting bracket and a drawbridge like cable on the head.

My new apartment was atomic. About ten by ten. A room really.

And we shared a bathroom. Wide open.

The girls had the decency to hang a blanket over the doorway so we could shower and shit in peace, looked like.

Otherwise we were locked in. Four doors. Four women. Two upstairs, two down.

Three of them were out in the tiny common area sitting at the table. Slowly my memory of the place filtered back. Forest said the other two would be back. I guessed they were.

There they all were. My new family. Suits squeaking as they gestured and talked.

Laughed…

Like shit was normal.

Like this nightmare I was in was a-okay.

I had no access to the internet. No access to TV. No access to information. Least not beyond a prison map, prison search files and information related to my job. Through Warden.

But I had mail. Every prisoner had mail.

I lifted my head and looked down my body. Encased head to toe.

I could look right down my little tits, her the curve of my abs, right down to the smooth dip in the material that covered my pussy.

I felt like a thing.

I watched my stomach rise and fall. Felt the squeeze against my entire body as I saw the reflected light against my new second skin. This was the way I would see my body from now on.

This was my body.

“Do you want me to read you your messages?” Warden asked.

“Uh… sure…?” I said quietly, still feeling weird about talking to it with people nearby.

“Message one: Hey Cabbie. Dave here. Listen, I think it’s messed up what happened to you. I don’t think you’re a pervert. Send me a message, I’d love to wait for you when you get out. It’s only five years. I watched your same-day trial. God you’ve got beautiful blue eyes.”

“Wait- w - what!?” I said, my face torn up. “What the hell is that!?”

“Oh, it gets better. You’ve got some offers for marriage. One guy says he’s rich… He’s not. Dave does pretty well for himself though. At least from what I know without full access to the wider web. Another guy says he’s got a prolific penis though.”

“You’re joking right?” I asked, feeling my face flush.

I was always just a little awkward cutie who drank and did any available drug I could find during the apocalypse. Sure guys came on to me. A lot. I just sorta avoided them when I found out they liked my booty.

“It’s America. And the Internet exists. Vaguely.”

“That’s unbelievable…”

“Well… bright side is, if you survive… Dave’s actually a really great guy.”

“Don’t spoon feed me any hope this early in the morning.”

“Fair point.” Warden responded. There was no emotion in her voice.

“So what do I call you?”

“Black zone usually calls me Ana.”

“We’re all connected?”

“Mildly. I’m not allowed to mix conversations or data. You still have rights.”

“No I don’t.” I argued.

“You don’t have personal rights. You still have data rights.”

“Makes sense…” I said. “Why does my mouth already taste clean?”

“Dentine Gas in your rebreather. You’re in a completely sealed, biologically safe environment in one of the toughest suits known to man. That’s why they’re so tight. The material is extremely expensive. Costs had to be cut somewhere.”

“Expensive suits for criminals?” I asked, confused.

“You’re forgetting value.” Warden reminded me.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He who does what no one else is willing to do still has it.”

“Riiiight…” I said, my raspy, boyish voice crackled.

I rolled out of bed.

Excuse me.

Slipped and fell out of bed, smacking onto the floor and feeling my helmet thunk.

The girl’s outside looked in at me.

“You alright?” I heard one call.

“Fan-fuckin’-tastic…” I grunted back, lifting a thumbs up. “What’s a Sud Monkey?” I asked from the floor.