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Description
The walls were closing in around me. I was having trouble breathing. I felt like my life was going to end in this little prison of a room. This sticker on my neck, right on my pulse, was going to kill me. Just as I was about to black out, one of the researchers demanded the patch be deactivated.

One person in a white coat walked up to me, sprawled out on the floor, and gently stripped the sticker from my neck. I could tell by the way he removed it that it was Jordan. Of all the researchers, Jordan was the nicest. He claimed to have been transferred from Pediatrics. It might explain how he could put on of those patches on a baby and keep it asleep.

I saw Jordan's hands put a blue patch labeled ¨Claustrophobia¨ in a plastic evidence bag. I finally regained my breath and looked up at him. He had dark brown, almost black short hair, with a little quiff at the front. He had deep, brown, comforting eyes and a sympathetic personality that none of his colleagues shared. He was never condescending, but patient.

"This is only a contingent of a larger goal." Jordan told me when I asked him why I was selected for these tests. "Your anatomy is in perfect condition- perfect for medical and scientific testing. Soon, these patches will be available for everyone."

"But why give them ailments like a cold or a headache, or fear of the dark?"

"If we can create the problem, we can create the solution."

Now whenever the next test daunts me, I think of those words. If they can create it, they can undo it. These researchers wouldn't give me anything that would harm me permanently.

******

The head doctor came over the intercom in my separate testing chamber.

"We are monitoring your air capacity and heart rate in case of any problems. Today we are taking things a step further."

I tapped the new patch on my neck to make sure it was securely in place. They never show me what the patch is labeled beforehand, but I usually figure it out pretty quickly. But this time, I had no idea what to expect. The small testing chamber I was in deluged with water. Fast. Only about 30 seconds had passed and I was already soaked from the knees down. I tried swimming up, but the ceiling provided no outlet. I was going to drown. The water filled up all the way and I was holding my breath and the precious few minutes I had left. I accepted my fate and released my last breath of air. Bubbles rose to the top of the tank as I sat there on the bottom. Breathing.

I was breathing! The lights brightened again and water dispelled from the tank and Jordan came in to remove my patch. I don’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasnt me slapping him. He recoiled immediately, rubbing his cheek. Other researchers rushed in and gave me a “Sleep” patch. I was out like a light.

*****

“Yes, fledglings are usually a little too trusting with the patients. He should have calmed her down, maybe asked her a few questions before trying to approach the experiment.”

I woke up to hearing two of the doctors talk in front of Jordan, who was holding an ice pack on his eye. I was in a hospital bed with IVs strapped to me. It was interesting to hear Jordan be dubbed a fledgling when he performs his tasks like he has more experience than any of the other doctors. I rustled my blankets with my feet to make them aware of my presence.

“Glad to see you’re up. I would like you to know that you have been a great test subject on this project, and you have shown your mettle in all the situations we put you through. It is sad to say, though, that your time is up. Soon we will be running a chemical through you that will erase your memory of all that has happen over the last two months in this institute. I will give you some time to say goodbye to Jordan. He wanted a word with you.”

Jordan stood up and removed his ice pack as the doctors left. He walked over to me and just gave me a hug. It was a warm hug and I felt very comforted by it.

“I really tried to get them to either just keep you here or let you keep your memory. They insisted they do this.”

“Why, though? Why should I have to un-live two months of my life?”

“I don’t know. They might not want the word to get out. People get scared. Whenever something happens that could potentially help or hurt a person, people only look at the hurt.”

“But I’m not hurt.”

“I know that. But I think that they hurt you by doing this. I don’t want this to happen. You’ve helped me so much as a doctor and a person. You’ve taught me how to recognize a need for another human being and pursue it. You’ve given me hope. I don’t want to see you go.”

“Dr. Maron, your time is up. Please step away from the patient.”

Jordan let go of my hand and stepped away. No.This can’t be happening. I can’t forget him. I can’t forget this. I can’t. I-

Description
The walls were closing in around me. I was having trouble breathing. I felt like my life was going to end in this little prison of a room. This sticker on my neck, right on my pulse, was going to kill me. Just as I was about to black out, one of the researchers demanded the patch be deactivated.

One person in a white coat walked up to me, sprawled out on the floor, and gently stripped the sticker from my neck. I could tell by the way he removed it that it was Jordan. Of all the researchers, Jordan was the nicest. He claimed to have been transferred from Pediatrics. It might explain how he could put on of those patches on a baby and keep it asleep.

I saw Jordan's hands put a blue patch labeled ¨Claustrophobia¨ in a plastic evidence bag. I finally regained my breath and looked up at him. He had dark brown, almost black short hair, with a little quiff at the front. He had deep, brown, comforting eyes and a sympathetic personality that none of his colleagues shared. He was never condescending, but patient.

"This is only a contingent of a larger goal." Jordan told me when I asked him why I was selected for these tests. "Your anatomy is in perfect condition- perfect for medical and scientific testing. Soon, these patches will be available for everyone."

"But why give them ailments like a cold or a headache, or fear of the dark?"

"If we can create the problem, we can create the solution."

Now whenever the next test daunts me, I think of those words. If they can create it, they can undo it. These researchers wouldn't give me anything that would harm me permanently.

******

The head doctor came over the intercom in my separate testing chamber.

"We are monitoring your air capacity and heart rate in case of any problems. Today we are taking things a step further."

I tapped the new patch on my neck to make sure it was securely in place. They never show me what the patch is labeled beforehand, but I usually figure it out pretty quickly. But this time, I had no idea what to expect. The small testing chamber I was in deluged with water. Fast. Only about 30 seconds had passed and I was already soaked from the knees down. I tried swimming up, but the ceiling provided no outlet. I was going to drown. The water filled up all the way and I was holding my breath and the precious few minutes I had left. I accepted my fate and released my last breath of air. Bubbles rose to the top of the tank as I sat there on the bottom. Breathing.

I was breathing! The lights brightened again and water dispelled from the tank and Jordan came in to remove my patch. I don’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasnt me slapping him. He recoiled immediately, rubbing his cheek. Other researchers rushed in and gave me a “Sleep” patch. I was out like a light.

*****

“Yes, fledglings are usually a little too trusting with the patients. He should have calmed her down, maybe asked her a few questions before trying to approach the experiment.”

I woke up to hearing two of the doctors talk in front of Jordan, who was holding an ice pack on his eye. I was in a hospital bed with IVs strapped to me. It was interesting to hear Jordan be dubbed a fledgling when he performs his tasks like he has more experience than any of the other doctors. I rustled my blankets with my feet to make them aware of my presence.

“Glad to see you’re up. I would like you to know that you have been a great test subject on this project, and you have shown your mettle in all the situations we put you through. It is sad to say, though, that your time is up. Soon we will be running a chemical through you that will erase your memory of all that has happen over the last two months in this institute. I will give you some time to say goodbye to Jordan. He wanted a word with you.”

Jordan stood up and removed his ice pack as the doctors left. He walked over to me and just gave me a hug. It was a warm hug and I felt very comforted by it.

“I really tried to get them to either just keep you here or let you keep your memory. They insisted they do this.”

“Why, though? Why should I have to un-live two months of my life?”

“I don’t know. They might not want the word to get out. People get scared. Whenever something happens that could potentially help or hurt a person, people only look at the hurt.”

“But I’m not hurt.”

“I know that. But I think that they hurt you by doing this. I don’t want this to happen. You’ve helped me so much as a doctor and a person. You’ve taught me how to recognize a need for another human being and pursue it. You’ve given me hope. I don’t want to see you go.”

“Dr. Maron, your time is up. Please step away from the patient.”

Jordan let go of my hand and stepped away. No.This can’t be happening. I can’t forget him. I can’t forget this. I can’t. I-