NextMind

• Vivian Weng, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2021

The day was March 9th. But it was day 1009876 since the immortaliser made our lives perfect.
The waiting room was cloaked with a smell so sterile it stung your nostrils like chlorine mixed with alcoholic sanitiser getting stuck in your nose. Every wall was covered in a blinding white except for the occasional posters of red, stuck on every house and building, saying: “Testing day – making your life PERFECT.” Next to the words were two cold eyes, staring down at us, reminding us that we are always being watched. This was the symbol of them. They were our Messiah, our idol, our everything.
It was testing day. The one day every year where the NextMind device was placed on our heads. A circular helmet with thousands of cables and wires, tentacles, reaching into our brains and taking all our thoughts, memories and actions from the past year. Taking our live. But this was our sacrifice for perfect, easy lives. For the immortaliser.
I looked down at the small rectangular outline on my wrist, made slightly purple from the bruising of the metal immortaliser. They said it regulates the development of our stem cells and deactivates our parietal lobe, but nobody knows how it actually works. All we know is what they say it does. It stops the aging process and blocks our pain receptors. Giving us the best life, they said.
Each immortaliser was fitted precisely into place - 1mm of displacement and it had the power equivalent to a life-threatening attack to our viscera - the nervous system. This is why they said never to touch it. This is why they told us to never stray from the instructions of our Messiah.
“Num-ber 1009872, 1009873, 1009874...”
A secrebot rolled out of the dim hallway to the testing rooms. Her eyes glowed a neon blue, scanning the room. My heart quickened, anticipating hearing my ID being called. But soon the immortaliser mediated this, releasing opiates into my bloodstream.
“Plea-se co-me for tes-ting” she finished and zoomed back into the dark hallway, trailing behind her marched a line of people all dressed in grey jumpsuits. The same symbol of eyes imprinted on their right pocket. The same blank expression across their faces.
Everything was silent again but a rush of energy filled me as I looked down at my own immortaliser. I couldn’t resist the urge to touch it, feeling the cold metal protrude my skin. And I dug in. Deep.
Nothing.
The immortaliser was still releasing signals to my parietal lobe to mitigate any feeling of pain.
Deeper.
The cameras were turned to me now, but I didn’t care.
Deeper.
A red ink began to ooze from my wrist. What was that called again...?
Deeper.
A throbbing surrounded my arm. Was this pain I felt or was it happiness?
A strange click erupted from the immortaliser.
Wasn’t it meant to register a shock to me by now?
Blood. I remember its name now.
I remember.
I remember running…
running…
running…
***
Running in a field. All around was vibrant green grass, and the fragrant smell of daisies filled my lungs. This was 1009870 days ago. Before the immortaliser, before the NextMind, before them.
Every day I could run under the bright blue sky, the sun kissing my skin. I could still see the lush oak forests before they were replaced with concrete jungles. I could still hear the sweet chirping of birds before they were replaced with the sounds of zooming cars.
Then I remember falling…
falling…
falling…
Thump.
I looked down at my wounded knee and saw blood. Blood of the reddest kind. Blood that never left my mind. I remember it was the first time I truly saw the colour red. The first time I felt alive.
***
I looked down to see the faded but still visible scar on my leg. This scar is part of who I am, as well as all my memories, struggles and emotions I have experienced.
If they take that away from us, are we still ourselves? Are we still human?
“It’s 12:07pm. You’re late for your testing 1009876.”
I shook into consciousness, the secrebot glaring its chilling neon eyes down at me. “It’s Red, actually.”
The immortaliser gleamed, its silver glinting through the flesh of my skin - and I tore it all out. Red staining the spotless floor. I strutted out of the waiting room, remembering who I was for the first time.