The last thing I remember before I went out was seeing myself in the mirror. My eyes were red and puffy, I must have been crying, I don’t know why. I try to visualize everything exactly as it was before it all went black, but some things are fuzzy. I feel almost as if my memories have been tampered with. I don’t own a blue toothbrush, mine is white with clear and green bristles. I also have a small crack in my mirror from when I threw a hardcover book in its’ general direction, the crack is no longer there. The last detail, which confuses me the most, is my eye color. I have always had dark brown eyes, like smooth melted chocolate. My memory shows my eyes are a deep forest green; it’s what I've always wanted.
I open my eyes and try to sit up when I realize I’m strapped to a metal board. My ankles are held down with a leather strap tightly bound, my hands likewise, they rest at my sides. I’m dressed in a hospital gown and quickly take notice that I’m naked underneath and my backside is exposed. I start to struggle and try to break free of the restraints. As I do so, I feel that my wrists and ankles are very sore. One glance tells me that each is raw and bloody. How long have I been here? Somewhere from a distance, I hear murmuring voices and soft footfalls. I shut my eyes, relax my breathing, and lay still.
Just outside the room I’m in, they stop, “How has the latest trail gone so far?” A man asks. He sounds old.
“Just the same as all the others. She wakes up terrified, doesn't remember a thing. Say’s she’s going to get to the bottom of all of this and won’t listen to a single word I have to say. By that time, she’s so hysterical with herself that I’m forced to sedate her, again.” A younger sounding man responds.
“But somehow you still believe she’s the one?”
The young one waits a moment to reply. “Yes, come see for yourself.” I hear the workings of a doorknob turning and people shuffling in the room, a gasp.
“Oh my. Look at her complexion, and how her facial features have become impeccably symmetrical. There is no doubt. It is her.” The old man says with much awe.
“Sir, I believe she’s ready. It’ll take a few hours for preparation but she’ll be all set by this evening.”
“So soon huh? Well I suppose you’re right. She does look magnificent.” Changing the tone of his voice to brisk and stern, “Make sure all your measurements are right, and that everything is sterile. When she wakes up, I want her to have twenty five years of brand new memory and no mistakes. This is not a trial, alright. If you do everything correctly, I might even let you take some of the credit for her. She will shape the future of how humans live, forever.