New Chains, Same Shackles by: Genisis Sifuentes, Silver Gelatin Print, 2018
Alice wakes up today feeling strange. She has a migraine so intense she nearly falls backward getting out of bed. When she turns on the room light her eyes quickly shut. She tries to open them but all she sees is white light shining in every direction. Her room doesn’t seem like her room anymore. She stumbles into her bathroom, searching her medicine cabinet for an antidote. After fumbling aimlessly, she grabs a bottle and faintly reads the words “Pain Killer” before twisting it open. She sticks her head in the sink, collects a mouthful of water, then swallows 3 pills. She then brushes her teeth, ties her hair up, washes her face and begins her day. Just like every day.
At 7 am, after Alice has finished getting dressed, she always makes herself a cup of coffee. She walks to her kitchen to prepare her daily ritual. But something is off. “Good Morning,” she hears her son Christopher say as he enters the kitchen. She convinces herself that she didn’t forget how her son looked. She convinces herself that he looks exactly the same. How could she ever forget her boy? 8 years old, green eyes, blonde hair, everything she loved in life. But why doesn’t she recognize him, even if it’s only for a second? To her, he looks just how he’s supposed to. Is it possible to know and to not know your only child? She thinks she really bumped her head.
“Good Morning sweetie,” she said. “So, what are we having for breakfast today?”
“Pancakes!” Christopher says with excitement. “No-waffles! With marshmallows, and ice cream!”
“And sprinkles!” she adds on.
“And chocolate!” he continues.
Alice starts to laugh, “And cavities with that sweet tooth of yours. How about just waffles today, but only after you brush your teeth ok?”
Christopher rolls his eyes and runs off to his bathroom, swinging his arms dramatically, making Alice giggle. She recognizes those little things about him. Little things that made her smile were her son. She then pulls out the waffle maker, plugs it in, and quickly makes the waffle mix before pouring the first waffle. When Christopher finishes in the restroom he sits down at the table. Alice looks to see if he really brushed his teeth and he gives her a big smile.
“I did it ok?” he asks.
Alice makes him his plate and pours the syrup on his waffles for him, so he doesn’t drown himself in sugar. She then goes back to the kitchen and pours herself a waffle. Afterward, she joins Christopher at the table and watches him carefully as he eats his breakfast.
“So, I know you don’t like going outside on the weekends, but it’s really really really nice out and I think you might enjoy it,” Alice says with a sweet tone in her voice, batting her eyes and smiling. Christopher stops eating his waffle immediately. And just like that, his mood changes completely.
“I don’t like being outside,” he says with almost no emotion. Alice doesn’t recognize this not so little thing. “Why don’t we stay inside?”
Alice us confused. “Don’t you want to play with your friends?” she asks with a puzzled look on her face.
“Why would I need friends when I have you?”
“Beep beep beep” the smoke alarm goes off, a deafening ring filling the house. Alice whips her head around and sees the waffle maker spewing smoke. She can’t believe how fast everything happened. How the house filled with smoke when she just put the waffle inside. She springs into action, unplugging the waffle maker while wafting the smoke away with a rag. Her movements so easy and fast like she has done it a million times before. She picks up the waffle maker and throws it in the sink with cold water running on top, engulfing her in a huge gray cloud. Christopher holds his ears as the alarm blares. His eyes are sealed closed and he is completely still. Alice notices his distress, so she grabs a chair, pulls it to the alarm, stretches out her arm, and easily twists the alarm undone. Once the sound stops, Christopher instantly opens up the windows. Alice helpss open the ones he can’t reach. When they open the last window together, she looks into her son’s eyes and notices something strange. His eyes seem sunken. As if the life left them.
“Christopher are you okay?” she says, putting both hands on his shoulders and looking directly into his eyes. First, he pauses. Then instantly her son’s eyes light up.
“Wow, that was crazy! I’m glad that wasn’t my waffle” he says, laughing. Alice doesn’t know what to think. She holds her breath, asking herself what she saw. She thinks she must be going insane. Christopher goes back to eating his unfinished waffle.
After Christopher is finished and leaves to his room, Alice cleans up her mess. She decides to call her husband, Mathew. She can’t tell him exactly how she feels. She doesn’t want him to think she’s crazy, but something was off about Christopher. She dials his number and the phone rings.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Hey, honey,” Alice said.
“Hey, baby. I’m glad you called. Listen, I don’t think I’m going to make it home soon. There’s a huge storm. It canceled all the flights.”
Alice lets out a deep sigh and says, “Well, when will you be home you think?”
“I’ll be home tomorrow I promise. Why did you call?”
“Christopher is acting weird. There’s something wrong with his eyes. I might be going crazy but I feel like-”
“Honey, I’m sorry but I have to go. I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’ll call you back later, ok?”
“Ok. I love you.”
“…”
“It’s probably nothing,” she decides before taking a seat in the living room and turning on the T.V. She clicks through the channels to find something that catches her eye, but every channel seems to be playing something she has already seen. How can there only be reruns on every channel? This annoys her at first but then she feels scared. She catches herself saying the next line of each show like she’s heard it many times before. Even the news channel is the same.
“What is going on?” she asks herself. Nothing seems right to her. Everything is off. She looks at the hallway to Christopher’s room and turns her ear to listen. She can’t hear him. Usually, he’s screaming at the TV while playing his video games. She decides to check on Christopher, but she’s terrified. A mother scared of her own son. She makes her way to his door, listening closely. She still hears nothing, not even the sound of his breathing. She quickly opens the door and sees him on the floor with his back facing her and his head down. For a second, he’s completely still. Alice starts to panic. It looks to her like her son is dead. She takes a step toward him but stops when she sees him slowly stand up. Like a ragdoll, he stands limply with his head hanging down, then slowly he picks his head up. Her eyes widen as she watches her son walk toward the TV, turn on the game, grab a controller, and sit right on the ground again. He then turns around to face her. Alice is stunned.
“Hey, Mom. Need something?” he says as if nothing was wrong at all. The same voice he used before. For a second, she doesn’t say anything. She looks into his eyes again. That’s when she notices it wasn’t her speaking to him.
“No, just checking up on you. That’s all,” Alice says, giving him a fake smile before quickly walking back to her phone. She holds her mouth closed so he won’t hear her cry. Her mind is racing. “That is not my son. That is not my son,” she repeats in her head. She finds her phone and frantically dials her husband’s number. She walks to the kitchen, away from Christopher’s room so that thing can’t hear her. Her hands are shaking so badly she keeps hitting the wrong buttons. She finally rings up her husband.
“Hello?” he answers.
“Hello! Matt, I need you to come home right away there’s something wrong with-”
“Hey baby, I’m glad you called. Listen, I don’t think I’m going to make it home soon. There’s a huge storm. It canceled all the flights.”
“Matt what’s going on?” she says tears filling her eyes. “Can you hear me? Hello? Matt, I’m scared.”
“I’ll be home tomorrow I promise. Why did you call?” Is Alice really listening to the same conversation twice? It’s not possible. How could it be possible?
“Honey I’m sorry but I have to go. I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’ll call you back later ok?” he says for the second time. She sinks to the floor in tears and drops the phone. She doesn’t know what to do. Can’t figure out why this is happening. She hears footsteps come toward her.
“Mommy, what’s wrong?” Christopher says still looking at her with dead eyes.
Alice screams as she crawls away, back against the fridge. In fear, her hand searches in a nearby drawer for anything to defend herself. Knowing exactly where it is, she grabs a sharp kitchen knife. When she pulls out the knife it drops to the floor and lands inches away from Christopher’s feet. She frantically reaches for the knife and grabs the black handle, scraping the blade against the tile floor before pointing the tip directly at Christopher. Alice chokes on her own breath, unable to control her breathing. Christopher doesn’t move.
“Are you still my boy?” she asks with tears falling to the ground. Christopher doesn’t say anything. No sign of any emotion.
“Where is Christopher!” she screams.
Then, without another word, he collapses to the ground like a sheet thrown into the air. Soon everything does the same and begins falling apart. The kitchen, the living room, even the floor starts to crumble and disappear. Alice can’t control her screaming. She doesn’t know what to do. She is surrounded by things she can’t explain. Everything starts to blur and mix together. Soon, all that’s left is white.
She can barely open her eyes, it’s so blinding. Giving her eyes a second to adjust she frantically looks around this new room she’s standing in. There’s nothing here. Nothing but a big, empty, bright room. She is cold and shivering. She takes a step forward and realizes she is naked and feels something pulling against her ankles. When she looks down she sees everywhere from her fingertips to her chest to her toes, wires run right into her skin and into the ground. She slowly lifts her hands and feels her head. There is no hair, only wires sticking into her scalp. Soon a door opens in front of her, cutting what seems to be an empty room in half.
“Patient 15799, you’ve woken up,” a man says, standing at the opening wearing a white lab coat and holding a clipboard. “Again.”
“What’s going on?” Alice says covering her body with her hands. “Who are you?”
“We are going to have to update your simulation for the third time. You really don’t want to be here,” he says, laughing, writing on his clipboard.
“Simulation?” She says. He turns toward the door and says, “Put her under,” before walking out completely.
“No. No. No. Wait!” Alice tries to run to the door, but the wires are slowing her down. Before she can even get close, 3 male guards enter the room. Alice stops moving and examines them. She sees that two of them are carrying batons at their hip, and one is holding a syringe. She backs up slowly and the 3 men cautiously make their way toward her.
“Stay away from me!” she says. The guards move in on her. One of them gets close enough to grab her right arm. She struggles to get away but can’t. The other guard grabs her other arm, holding her still. The third guard moves in closer with the needle. Before he can grab her she kicks him in the middle of his chest, sending him flying backward. The syringe is smashed against the ground and the liquid stains the white floor. She then yanks her right arm free and punches the man on her left dead in the face, making him lose his grip on her. The man on the right tries to grab her again, but she pushes his arm away, spinning him around so his back is to her. She jumps on his back and wraps the cords on her hand around his neck and pulls tightly. The man falls to his knees choking. One guard tries to rip her off, but she elbows him in his nose. He’s losing his breath and is desperate for air. Alice, with wide eyes and gritted teeth, tightens her grip even harder. One of the guards gets up off the ground, pulls out his baton, and strikes her on the side of her head, stopping Alice from choking the man to death. And just like that, she’s out.
The guards pick her up off the ground and a team of people in lab coats come in. While Alice is unconscious, they open her skull like a cardboard box. They start to quickly move the wires around in her head. A woman holding a clipboard wonders to herself, “What happened in her sim?”
“Too many signs presented themselves during the simulation,” the scientist answers. “When the host starts to question their environment, curiosity gets the best of them. They can’t help it. The human mind is too complex for us to trick.”
“Don’t you feel bad about doing this?” she asks. “I can’t help but question my morals.”
“It has to be done. You and I both know she didn’t volunteer for this position, but her participation is crucial. This technology can change the world. Give people lives they could only dream of. If we could just get the configuration right.”
“So, what going to be different this time?” a woman asks.
“The kid,” the scientist responds. “We’re taking out the kid.”
After 20 minutes, the scientists leave Alice. The white floor turns to carpet and she is no longer lying on the floor, but instead in her bed. Her body is now in the same clothes she woke up in, her head full of wires replaced with long black hair, sound asleep like nothing ever happened.
Alice wakes up today feeling strange.