Teresa, The Haunted Wordsmith has set a Genre Challenge to write something in a particular genre. Click on the link to her post below:
Todays Genre is: Medical Mystery
Here is my FICTIONAL story:
I was never sure of my identity. I grew up in an orphanage never knowing who my parents were, or if I had any family out there. It made me feel extremely lonely. Like I was the only one of my kind, on a planet full of aliens.
Gradually, I managed to make a way in the world. I excelled at school and college, even doing so well as to get a scholarship to attend a very prestigious university. Always people said how great it was that I had overcome such hardship in my life. In some ways, I had an advantage. No one else tried to force me to be someone they thought I should be. I didn’t have to follow in someone else’s footsteps or live the life that someone had wanted for themselves. I didn’t feel I had to constantly please someone else, I had only myself to live up to and only myself to please.
It was years later, I began to wonder again about where I had come from, what my roots were. Did I have any relatives alive out there? I didn’t really want to meet them. It would feel weird running up to them saying, “Hi. I’m your distant cousin, let’s pretend to be very close friends even though we actually know nothing about each other.”
Genetic science had come on leaps and bounds in the last few years, the human genome had been mapped entirely and DNA tests had become a bit of a fad. Everyone was doing it and finding out that they had 3% Neanderthal in their DNA or were distantly related to the British Royal Family.
I decided to buy a pack and find out more about myself. I spat into the tube and posted it off. It felt a bit strange sending some spit in the mail. It just seemed wrong to send bodily fluids in the post.
I was expecting to receive a pack giving me my results but instead, I received an invitation from DNA Science Laboratories in L.A all expenses paid.
It seemed too good to be true, but I hadn’t had a holiday in years and I’d never been to the States so I thought “What the hell, why not?”
I was greeted at the airport by a bored looking chauffeur holding a card with my name on it, spelt all wrong, of course, and before I knew it we were speeding across L.A to the headquarters of the DNA Science Laboratories.
When I walked into the meeting room, I was astounded to find myself in front of an assemblage of distinguished looking scientists all seated around a large table.
A man at the head of the table stood up.
“Ah, Welcome Mr Berkshire”
I couldn’t help cringing as he mispronounced my name, like all Yanks. I was named after the County the Orphanage was in, Berkshire was pronounced Bark, like a dog, not Berk to rhyme with quirk. It was a common mistake, as was spelling the name Barkshire, instead of Berkshire.
The man continued. “Please take a seat. You must be thirsty after your long trip. Have some water. I wanted to thank you for coming all this way. It’s really exciting to meet you. Your DNA is the most impressive I have ever seen.”
He sounded impressed too. All the other scientists around the table were leaning forward looking at me like I had come first prize at a freak show. I reached over and poured out a glass of water from the jug in front of me and drank it down in one go.
“look, I just wanted to find out a little about where my family had come from. I’m an orphan and so didn’t know anything about my background.”
“I see. Yes, that would explain why you sent us your DNA so willingly. If you’d known, you would have remained hidden.”
There was something about the way he said that, that I didn’t like. I stood up but then my head started spinning. I remember feeling delirious and fuzzy headed, then there was just darkness.
I came to, blinking at the light flooding my eyes. I was lying on a hospital bed, I could feel my body covered in wires, linked to a monitor going bleep at regular intervals.
As I looked down at my naked body, I was shocked to see all my veins and arteries marked out in a fine tracery of red and blue.
“Mr Berkshire. It is nice to have you back with us.” The annoying patronising voice was familiar and seemed to come from everywhere.
“Please don’t alarm yourself. You had a seizure but we have stabilised your condition, but I wouldn’t advise trying to move right now.”
I hadn’t realised I had sat up in the bed, shooting pain ran through my body from head to toe and I collapsed back into the pillow.
“That’s better Mr Berkshire, just rest. Your DNA was exceptionally interesting. It proved something that government scientists had only speculated about. Many people have unusual DNA. Some people have small percentages of DNA from Neanderthal or other primitive races, but you have 25% DNA from something that is not human at all.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I found myself unable to speak.
“Back in 1947, Mr Berkshire, something happened at Roswell in New Mexico. The Government has tried very hard to keep exactly what happened a secret. My father was the chief scientist involved at the time. An Alien creature was discovered and an autopsy was carried out, but there has always been some conjecture that this alien had had a human companion. Someone who had tried to keep him hidden from the authorities. The Alien had been very distressed when he was caught and kept calling out a name, Marianne, over and over. It was speculated that he had possibly formed an attachment to this Marianne. Your DNA shows that this did indeed occur. This Alien was your Grandfather, Mr Berkshire. Now, I’m afraid that we cannot allow this information to get out. You are living proof that there was an Alien incursion. We cannot allow that. Goodbye Mr Berkshire.”
I felt a fluid being injected into my veins and my body exploded in pain.
Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 23/March/2019
I have also included the following word prompts: