As I feel my skin tearing,
as I hear the sound of it ripping apart,
I try to open my eyes to see what’s happening.
But they won’t open.

A memory flashes.

"You will be sedated. You won’t feel anything."
A fake promise.

I feel it—no, not feel, but hear.
Maybe this wasn’t supposed to happen.
Maybe the anesthesiologist made a mistake.

I hear more tearing. I try again to open my eyes.
Nothing.

I force my mind to think,
to remember how I ended up here.

Fragments surface:

"It doesn’t work. We aren’t compatible anymore."

Doors slamming.
Sobs.
A heart breaking.

Then, an ad. On my timeline.
Or was it my refrigerator?

A New Start. A New Place. A New You.

My heart aches. I feel nothing else.
I dial the number.
An appointment is set for the next day.

A pinkish-brown waiting room.
A well-groomed woman leads me into a somber office.
A tall man with sharp features enters.

He speaks of new beginnings.
A life with no pain.
A promise of happiness.
A new me.

Literally.
A new driver’s license.
A new address.
A new look.
A new identity.

I am stunned.

He shows me examples.
They look happy.
I want to be happy too.

I hesitate—
Then, I hear a deep voice.
I hadn’t noticed there was someone else in the room.

He sounds like God, if God spoke.

"Try it. You’ll feel better."
"We’ll support you all the way."

His tone reassures me.
His presence comforts me.
Who is he?

I sign the papers.
So many of them.

They explain technical things,
most of which I don’t understand.
But the voice promises everything will be fine.
I believe him.
I relax.

Later, the well-groomed woman returns.
She takes me to another room.

They click my photos.
Take my fingerprints.
Draw my blood.

They ask me questions about my past.
I answer.

Then I wait.
An hour. Maybe more.

She comes back.
Leads me to a dressing room.
Tells me to change.
I obey.

After that—
A blur.
A haze.
My consciousness slips.

I try to open my eyes.
Nothing.

I hear voices:
Heart rate.
Scalpel.
A sharp clang as it falls.
The sound pierces my brain.

Why am I here?
What have I done?

Darkness swallows me.

I wake up in a new place.
I don’t know how I got here.

A Mickey Mouse alarm clock jolts me awake.
The room is bright.
Clean.

I look around.

On the bedside table—
A small booklet.

“The New You.”

I start reading.

The New You