Assessment Day

It is Assessment Day, and we must go to the Laboratory. My sister, Moriah, and I walk down the gray stone steps of our house hand in hand to our gray hovering transport. If it were a skipping stone, it would be a good one. Moriah is chattering about the blue bird she saw as we were eating chocolate chip pancakes this morning.

We climb into the black leather seats of the car and the door slides closed. Our robot butler waves goodbye. Moriah waves back. My fingers wrap around the hem of my skirt, making knots in the smooth white fabric. Moriah is still talking, trying to lighten the mood. I wish I could listen to her, but my brain has other plans. What if you’re the bad twin, and Moriah is good? Will you come back home? Or will you be sent to the Midnight Society? You’ve never seen the other side of the wall, so maybe today is the day.

I look at Moriah and try to make sense of what she’s saying. Her hair bounces like raven’s feathers as she illustrates her story. Dad says her hair looks like midnight, but I’m not sure what that means. I’ve never seen midnight before. We must shutter all our doors and windows before the sun goes down.

One time, Moriah and I stayed up late, and pretended to be asleep when dad checked on us. We got up and tried to open the window. Alarms went off, and Dad ran in, panicked. He told us there were bad people outside. People from the Midnight Society. They are the evil twins, and the Daylight Society people are the good twins. They let them come through the wall that separates our town so they can come at night. Dad said we must be separated so that no more wars will start. We must let them in. They have no place else to go to get food. Evil twins don’t like the good twins. They will try to kill us. I asked him if one of us was the evil twin and would have to be separated. Everyone has a twin. Moriah is mine. One of us is evil. He never answered.

As we zoom down the road, the towering black wall mirrors our car. It shines in the sunlight. On the other side of the wall, all I can see is blue sky. I continue to listen to Moriah until the scenery changes from fields and trees to giant glass-walled skyscrapers slashing through sidewalks. The Laboratory is a colorless building in the sea of rainbow lights and flashing billboards. It is short among the sky-high buildings that surround it. It is the threat you do not see until it catches you.

Dad parks and turns off the engine. He looks at us in the rear-view mirror, and then gets out. He doesn’t want to. The whirring and buzzing of traffic are almost deafening when we step out of the car at the entrance of the Laboratory. He holds out his hands, the signal for me and Moriah to hold them. We face the ominous structure together. This is not the way we will come out. Other families have come today too. Mothers are comforting their children. At only eleven, we are the oldest children present. Our Dad is emotionless.

The smell of sanitized air stings my nose. There are many people outside, but there’s no one inside. They are scared to come inside the blackened glass doors. Our footsteps echo. There is no more buzzing of engines. A clicking keyboard and my racing heart are all I hear.

“Dr. Mahoney,” says the woman behind the black marble wall, “I see you’ve finally decided to get them tested.” She makes it sound like we’re experiments. Dad doesn’t respond. He grips my hand tighter. I grip back, and hide my face in the fabric of his sleeve.

“You’ll be in rooms thirty-four and thirty-five.” She grabs a clipboard and it clacks against her giant jeweled bracelet. “This way,” she commands. Her high heels click on the tiles.

Dad finally speaks, “My only reservation in waiting so long was my—”

“Inability to follow orders?” The woman heckles.

“No,” he corrects. “My status with the Governor,” he speaks, emphasizing every word. I've always known that Dad is someone important in our government, but I don’t know what he does.

“No one is above the law, Dr. Mahoney.”

“That is why I am here.” Dad is angry now. Not the explosive kind of angry. It is more like an invisible rip current, until you’re in it. This woman better shut up soon.

“How old are they?”

“Eleven,” Dad answers. The woman scribbles on her clipboard and turns a corner in the hall. We follow her.

“Have they been here before?”

“No. I keep them away for their safety.”

“You can rest assured they will be safe--”

“I do not trust you as far as I can spit,” Dad interrupts. “How you manage to sleep at night when you’re tearing fam--”

“Here we are, room thirty-four reserved for Maria Mahoney.” The woman opens a door. She ushers me in before I can say anything, and the door closes with a soft condemning s--nik. A knot ties itself in my throat. There is a doctor in a lab coat sitting on a stool. He’s looking at a computer in the corner of the room.

“Have a seat,” he gestures to the chair in the center of the room.

“You will be asked a series of questions. Respond with the answer you feel is the right reaction.” He drones the instructions like he has said the line a thousand times before. I sit down and lay my head back. My body sinks into the over-sized chair.

“Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes,” I say, and close my eyes. Only bad people don’t come out of the Laboratory. I’m not bad.

“Your sister steals a piece of candy from the store, and you see her do it. What do you do?”

Dad told me about this question. It’s not really Moriah that he’s talking about. Moriah wouldn’t do something like that. It is someone who I’m supposed to know well and care about. I give my rehearsed answer, “I tell the authorities, because stealing is bad.”

“You see a stranger with a weapon walking down the street. What do you do?”

“I tell the authorities, because weapons are bad.”

“You see a wanted criminal hiding in an alley and the police ask if you saw them. What do you do?”

“I tell the authorities where I saw them, because lying is bad.”

“You know your father is committing treason by refusing to bring you to assessment. What do you do?”

I don’t remember talking about this question with Dad. I don’t know the answer.

“I need to come to assessment because everyone does at some point. I need to know what Society I belong to,” my voice begins to crack, “Even if that separates me from my family.”

“You know your father is lying about having a cure to a terrible disease that the government needs, and that, by not giving the cure to the government he is committing treason. What do you do?”

Dad did not tell me about this question.

“I don’t know that he has a cure to the Twin Phenomenon. I don’t know what to do.” Tears are rising again.

“You are lying. I never said what the disease was. How do you know it is the Twin Phenomenon?”

“What other disease could you be talking about? Everything else has been cured.”

“He does have the cure. By helping him, you are also committing treason.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” The tears burst their way out of my eyes, and I sit up to look at the lab coat.

“The verbal assessment is complete. This way.” He stands up and walks through a door behind the recliner I’m sitting in. The recliner slides out from under me, and my feet land with a thud. Every part of my body feels heavy. I still hear my heartbeat in my ears.

The door clicks behind me. The room is tiny, and only has one light. I wipe the tears away and hope they will not come back. He scribbles on his clipboard. In front of me is a cage covered with a towel. There is something growling quietly. There is a table next to the cage that has a key, a piece of meat, and a knife.

“This next test will require you to use one of these two items on the animal inside this cage. Use the key to unlock the cage once you have made your decision.”

Lab coat walks over to the cage and takes the cover off. The snarling mass of fur shakes the cage. I let out a scream. There is no way I’m letting that thing out of the cage. It’ll bite me for sure. Dad told me about this test too. Since the—thing—seems vicious, I should kill it with the knife. If it is evil, it does not deserve to live. If it were calm and seemed harmless, I’d give it the meat to reward it for being good. I do not want to kill it though. That seems like a bad thing to do. It is probably just hungry, and that’s why it is angry. That would be the wrong answer.

“Time is running out.” Lab coat barks.

“Can’t I just tell you what I would do? Do I really have to do it?”

“Do what?”

“Kill it?”

“Does it not deserve to live?” Lab coat asks.

“Well, it seems evil. And evil things don’t deserve to live. So… I should kill it.” The words are stones in my mouth. It feels wrong to say it. “But I don’t want to. That seems…”

“Wrong?” Lab coat finishes what I cannot bring myself to say.

“Yeah.”

“Do you not deserve to live either?”

No. That cannot be true. I do deserve to live, because I’m good. I’m the good twin. But admitting that would mean that Moriah would have to stay here. And I don’t want her to stay here. Wait. That was not a question to answer. Lab coat is threatening me. I grab the knife and point it at him.

“What do you plan to do with that? Only a Malignant would do someone harm.”

“I’m—” I catch myself before admitting, “Not going to let you hurt me. How do I know you’re not the Malignant one in the room?”

“You don’t.”

The knife feels heavy in my hand, and my wrist shakes under the weight.

“Only a Malignant would want to harm me,” Lab coat says again.

Before I can move a muscle, Lab coat unlocks the cage and the animal leaps at me. I shout and slash through the air. The knife nicks one of the animal’s legs and blood splatters my hand. The animal hides in the corner, hissing at me. I get a better grip on the knife. I must kill it now. Lab coat lunges at me. He grips my wrist and twists it around, so I drop the knife. I scream.

“Malignant!” He shouts, over and over.

The door opens and I’m smothered in a black cloth. There are at least three other people in the room, all of them have a grip on me. I’m still screaming.

“Dad! Dad! Help! I don’t know what I did wrong! Dad help me!” I scream, but no one else comes. I can’t move or get away, the black cloth they wrapped around me is so tight I can hardly breathe. Another door opens and they haul me through.

Dad is banging on the door, “Maria! What are you doing to her! Let me though! Maria!”

They’re taking me down the hall, I shout, “Dad, I’m scared!”

I love you, Maria! I’m too far away to hear anything else.

It’s a long hallway with lots of doors. I think I hear other children. Some kick against the doors. They stop in front of a door at the end of the hall. Lab coat unlocks the door and opens it.

“Throw her in there,” he commands. I land with a thud in the darkness. The door slams closed, leaving me in complete darkness.

“What did I do wrong?” I scream, “Don’t leave me here.” It’s no use. They’re gone, and I’m alone.

The concrete floor is like ice and makes my muscles sore. I do not know how long I have been laying here. Once I caught my breath, and ceased my tears, that’s when the real terror caught up to me. Are they going to leave me in here forever? Will I die here? I’m the part of the family that didn’t make it out of this horrible place. If I do make it out, I will live the rest of my life separated from my family in the Midnight Society. Did they fight the lab coats to say one last goodbye, or did they just leave? The buckles are so tight around me that I can’t twist around to sit up. The place where my face touches the floor is wet, but my face is dry now. I don’t have any more tears in my whole body. I try to speak, but my throat is sore from screaming. I just lay silently and hope it recovers soon. I will never make it out of here. I will never see my family again.