Headlights | Teen Ink

Headlights

January 1, 2014
By mocarlock97 PLATINUM, Hineston, Louisiana
mocarlock97 PLATINUM, Hineston, Louisiana
46 articles 5 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is-His good pleasing perfect will."- Romans 12:2


A clap of thunder shook my whole house, waking me up. I must’ve fallen asleep watching old reruns of The Brady Bunch. I grab the television remote and press Guide to see the information about this particular show. It’s the episode where the middle child, Peter Brady, finds another boy that looks very similar to him, and they cause a great deal of mischief and confusion for Peter’s family.
I glance at the clock. It’s 10:15 P.M. My parents told me they would be back at 10:45 or later. They went to a meeting regarding their jobs. I want to stay up until they get here, because I hardly ever get to see them; they work so much. I get up and head to the refrigerator to look for a soda. If I am going to stay up for awhile, I’m going to need some caffeine to help me.
In the dark, I bump my head on a cabinet. I feel the stinging pain for a moment, and then it passes. As I reach to open the fridge, I sense that something is outside my house. Maybe it’s just an animal. I do live in the woods. I decide to look out the kitchen window, and to my surprise, through the rain, I spot headlights approaching my house.
My heart starts racing. I glance at the clock again. It is way too early for my parents to be coming home. I walk back to the living room, turn off the television, and pretend to be asleep on the couch.
I hear the engine of the car shut off, then footsteps on my porch, but it sounds like more than two people. Did my parents bring a coworker home? A loud knock startles me, causing me to jump. My parents never forget their keys. I move to open the door, confused and ready to question them, but as I open the door, I realize it’s not my parents.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the figures standing before me: a strange man, a woman, and to my horror, a girl who looks exactly like me. More thunder and lightning come, and I get a better look at her. She has the same eyes, the same nose, and the same clothes as me. I am too speechless to say anything. I feel as if I am dreaming. The man looks at me and speaks, “Thank you R2387, you have served your purpose, and it is time for you to return with us, until you are needed again.”
“What?” I manage to mumble.
He ignores my question. “Give me your arm. I need to view the files.”
I keep my arm stationary, and step back into my house, preparing to shut the door. “You’ve made a mistake,” I say, “I don’t know what you want, but you need to leave now!”
Nobody moved. “By the way, that’s very impressive makeup,” I say, pointing at the girl who looked like me, “I’ve always wanted a twin, but this is getting very creepy. Goodbye.”
The man stuck his foot out, preventing me from closing the door. “R2387, you will listen to me.” He grabs my arm, and I try to jerk away, but his grip is too strong. “Hand me the extractor please,” he tells the woman.
She hands him a tool. He holds it above my arm, presses down hard, and something punctures my arm. I can feel it slithering through my veins. Then the machine extracts it, and out comes what looks like a memory chip. He hands it to the woman, who pulls another machine out of her coat. It begins to hum, probably processing whatever was on the chip. I am more confused than I’ve ever been in my entire life. What was a chip doing in my arm?
I compose myself enough to say, “Who are you people?”
The man and woman look at each other and laugh. “Have you had any head injuries recently?” the woman asks me.
“Yes,” I answer. The man and woman peered at each other with sad faces. “Does she need reprogramming?” the man asks her.
She shook her head. “No time. The girl’s parents will be home soon. We will just have to tell her, and hope she cooperates, or we will be forced to terminate her.”
The girl who looked like me never said anything. I’m not sure if she had even blinked this whole time. Did they do something to her? I was already frightened, but I couldn’t make sense of anything that was happening. “Please leave, or I will call the police,” I said.
“R2387, calm down,” the woman began, but the machine she was holding screeched, and she stopped. She turned it around for me to see the screen. I saw my parents! “What have you done to them?” I questioned.
“Nothing. They’re fine. This is a video of them from yesterday. Listen to me-you are a robot. You were created to look like Leslie Smith, who is standing here beside me.”
“No! That’s not true! I am Leslie Smith!” I interrupted.
“You are R2387, and you were programmed to believe that you are Leslie. You have emotions like her, and even most of her memories. You have been stationed here for a week, collecting videos of Leslie’s parents.”
The man spoke, “The government is having problems, and our agency is designed to detect those issues. We clone children, and occasionally, we switch the real child out for the clone. The clone is able to watch the parents to see if they are involved in any terrorist or anti-government activities. The video you are watching is how you saw them yesterday. We can see anything that you have seen with your own eyes.”
“I don’t believe you!” A tear rolled down my face.
“Any head injury, no matter how small, makes you forget that you work for us. In training, you were instructed to hit your head if you think the mission is going to be compromised,” the man continued. “It’s time for you to return to our base. We have everything we need. It’s time to move on to the next child.”
The woman led the real Leslie into the house, laying her down on the couch. “We have already initiated the memory wipe,” the woman said, “She won’t remember a thing.”
I didn’t move. I couldn’t believe this was happening! Before I saw them reaching to grab me, in the distance, through the rain, I saw headlights.



Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.