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Neon City Diaries

"Birthday Girl"

By Kira MorningstarPublished 2 years ago 5 min read
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I had no clue where I was after the first pill. It was a small, little green thing. No, violet. Or maybe it was pink? Point being, I was no longer available after the high began to take me. The tingling of the hairs on my arms and the buzzing in my ears kept me cognizant while the music and drinking was drowned out around me. I saw stars dancing across the ceiling and neon colors flashing in and out. Was I laced? I didn’t care. All that mattered was the high.

“This feels like heaven.” A voice claimed beside me.

I glanced over at the voice. Nothing. Just my mind playing tricks on me. Maybe the devil on my shoulder was just as fucking gone as I was. Who knows. Maybe I was the one who said it.

The others in the booth with me stared into nothingness as my trip began. One girl, her name was Maddie I think, began stripping her clothes off and aggressively rubbing the guy next to her. He was so fucking high that all he could do is moan and smile. Right there I began feeling the heat swell in the room. Maybe Maddie had the right idea. Another girl rubbed my shoulder as I removed my jacket. “Happy birthday, babe.” She wished, slurring every single word. Yeah, this was my birthday. My twenty-sixth one to be exact. And I felt like I was burning alive.

After stripping down to my underwear, the heat began to take me. “Holy shit.” I muttered. It was scorching hot, so of course the brightest idea I had at the time was to take the bucket of ice sitting in front of me and dumping it on my head. I had relief for all of two seconds before the burning started again. I grabbed the first person I saw and begged for help. Lindsay, the person who invited me to the club in the first place, dragged me into the bathroom to help me clean up. I guess she had a bit more tolerance with whatever drugs we were on, because she was a bit more alert than I was. I guess a whole hell of a lot more alert.

“Yeah.” She started, “this was a bad idea.” She wiped the tears and the smudged mascara from my face, gently but with purpose. I couldn’t tell if she was upset or amused or both. It was hard to tell anything really besides the absolute hell I was in with the temperature. “No afterparty for you.” I thought this was the afterparty? Before I could even finish my thought, I felt a sharp pain break through the skin on my shoulder. Numbness flooded my entire body and then-nothing.

When I came to, everything began to quickly catch up to me. All of the drinking and drug usage flooded my nerve receptors with pain and sickness. Not to mention the really tight leather straps holding me down to a cold slab of metal. The light beaming down into my face partially blinded me, but I could still see some of the room I was in. Cold and filled with a copper smell, this room had all the makings of a backroom clinic. There was only one thing missing. My eyes darted toward the door on my left, looking for the sign. Right above the door was a red LED light. Yeah, this was a cybernetics clinic.

I tried to scream but my throat was so dry I could only muster a light cough. The taste of blood was light in my mouth, and my lips were chapped and scarred. If my eyes weren’t so dry, I would’ve shed a few tears.

My ears rang from the sharp buzzing sound, with a heavy voice bursting through the intercom. “Amanda, welcome.” The voice said. I couldn’t help but shiver from this ominous voice knowing my name. No one really called me Amanda anyway; it was Mandy for most if not everyone who knew me. “Your associate, Lindsay. She brought you to me.”

Associate? Yeah, no. That bitch was dead to me.

“She wanted to gift you a birthday present.”

The buzzing sound returned, with the metal door slamming open. The red light of the hall framed the large figure that stood a few feet away from me. My head was still throbbing so I couldn’t hold it up for long, but I swore the eyes were glowing. The figure wandered toward the workstation in the corner, moving some junk around before brandishing a shiny piece of chrome.

“She told me you’ve always wanted one of these.” The figure stated. “Happy birthday.”

He held the chrome up to my face and then it hit me. I figured the heavy feeling of my face was just a side-effect of the come down, but it was actually a replacement jaw. A chrome jaw implant in the shape of a skull. I wished so hard I could scream because this might’ve been my worst nightmare. Of course, I may or may not have mentioned wanting some cute cybernetic implants to Lindsay from time to time, but this is not the way I wanted to go about it. In fact, this is probably the last way I figured it would transpire. And this implant was far from cute.

“All expenses are paid for, and she even offered to cover the health care.” The figure said, unstrapping me from the cold slab. I could finally see his face once he stepped into the light, and if I wasn’t consumed with anger, I would’ve found him attractive. But right now, I didn’t care about any of that. I wanted this damned thing out of my face.

After injecting me with a painkiller serum, the Doc wheeled me out into the street. The smell of trash and feces attacked my nose, along with a slight alcohol smell. I had no clue where I was, but I knew where I didn't want to be. And so, I made my way to the nearest transit station with no phone or sense of purpose. But I did get a few compliments on my “cute” jaw implant. I guess that’s all that matters.

Short Story
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About the Creator

Kira Morningstar

I paint with words.

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