Expiration Date – Chapter Two

Capture

    I wake up and all I see is white.

    White walls, white floors, white bed, white sheets, white machinery with white tubes attached to my arm and chest.

    As my heart rate jumps and my breath quickens, a gentle beeping in my room rises to a panicked chirp.

    “Hello?” I called out, forcing down my fear and swallowing my heartbeat in my throat. “Hello? Where am I? Hello?”

    A nurse in white with dark brown skin and a soothing smile pulls back the white curtain around my bed. “What’s wrong, honey?”

    I jerk in surprises and my wrist catches. I’m chained to my bed.

    My pulse spikes.

    “Hey there, shh,” she comes over to my bedside and puts a hand over my wrist to pause my break for freedom. “If you stop trying to fly away, I’ll answer your questions.”

    “Where am I? Why am I chained up?” I bark out. I’m too scared to calm down. I want to attack. My hair stands on end.

    She sighed and clucked her tongue. “There, there, honey. Listen, I’m gonna start talking, and if you don’t settle, I’m leavin’.”

    I narrowed my eyes, ready to bite.

    “You’re in Purity Hospital in Boston, Massachusetts. The year is 2315. The officers told us you said you came from Shatterproof.”

    I froze. Because I don’t know whether Shatterproof sounds like home or a prison I escaped.

    After one look at my face, the nurse sighed and wagged her head, tight ponytail swinging. “I assume you did. Anyone who came from Shatterproof has tattoos of the word that caused them to shatter. They’re called Expirational–meaning they’ll fade once you’ve recuperated from living in Shatterproof. But until then, you have to stay here.”

    My brows knit together and I open my mouth. She gives me a stern look, but I speak anyway. “Why? I want to go, I need to find my friend. He shattered just before me, he should be here–,” I rise from my bed, only my wrist unable to move.

    “No, you best stay here, now,” the nurse says, pushing me back down by my shoulder. “You see, honey…”

    I hold my breath.

    “You’re not allowed to leave, until your tattoos expire.”

    My face flushes with blood in a heat of anger. “Wh–?”

    “America has banned tattoos to protect our society. Thirty years ago in the Great Youth Revolution and Shatterproof was created, the criminals left in America expanded until they were out of control. They multiplied and became like the great hydra with many heads…” Her eyes glazed over as she spoke; it almost seemed as though she was reciting from a manual.

    I feel sick to my stomach. I’ve heard that same voice before. From Hector. Whenever he spoke about justice to me.

    A lump rises in my throat.

    “All the criminals identified by tattoos as a way to designate what crimes they committed, their beliefs, and their leaders. To better reduce crime rates, the government banned tattoos so that all criminals can be more easily identified and imprisoned.”

   “How is that fair?” She had barely finished her sentence when the words burst from my mouth.

    She blinks. The glass clears from her eyes.

    “What if someone doesn’t want to be a criminal anymore? Are they doomed to being hunted? Cut off from society?”

    “Tattoos can be removed.”

    “But the mark will always be there! Or what if you can’t  afford it?”

    “They made the choice to become a criminal. Now they must pay the price.”

    And my blood runs cold. Because Hector has said the same thing to me. “People who are cracked deserve it.”

    America is not far off from Shatterproof.