Modern day humanity is filled with indescribable struggles. From falling into traps that lured you in with temptations to a life long debt that can be easily grown yet nearly impossible to pay off. But what if there was another way to pay it off? A way that was easy on your pockets, but hard on your life...
They told me the procedure was going to be nearly painless. I wouldn't feel a thing. Well, I wouldn't feel anything other than the few needles they'd poke me with before putting me under. The room spun around me and faded to black.
It felt like only a few moments had passed, but when the world started to come back through my eyes, I felt a bit woozy, like I was recovering from a hangover. A doctor walked into the room, cradling a clipboard. She turned to me with a smile and said, "The surgery was a huge success."
I didn't say much. But I'm guessing my actions spoke louder than anything, because she hesitantly said, "Oh, you're probably a bit dizzy, huh?"
I nodded.
"That's normal," she assured me, her gaze comforting. "This surgery take a lot out of you. But I can promise, you'll be back to normal in no time."
Soon after, the doctor excused herself. She had a few more patients to check on, I'd assumed.
I took the time I had left alone to think about what I had just done. Not just for myself but for my family. You see, I wasn't exactly in the greatest position growing up. My parents struggled keeping up financially while raising my sister and I. I can tell you how many nights we survived off of one or two meals a day. I had to get a job when I was about fifteen and all the money I earned went to my family to help them pay for food and rent. It felt good. I almost felt heroic.
Then, my dad got sick. He was the main provider of the family, working countless hours at a job he hated at the factory. He'd come home and sleep all day and work all night. We rarely got to see him. But then he got sick. He was passing out a lot, which made it harder for him to work. We tried taking him to the hospital but he would refuse to go. He assured us he was fine. Then, he started coughing up blood.
Now, I understood his concern for us over his own health. We couldn't really afford to take him to the hospital as it was. But being in debt was worth it to ensure that he would live. After we finally got him to go to the hospital, we were told the unfortunate news that he had lung cancer. We were in shock. Cancer was one of the hardest words to hear, especially when it hits so close to home.
And into debt we went. From 4 hour car rides round trip to expensive treatments to even the medication we had to get for him, the bills were piling on quickly. We were struggling. We had to fall even further into debt. Although I didn't mind, as it was all to keep my dad alive and fighting for his life, this was leading me to be working multiple jobs to try and keep up. Without my dad making money, I was the only provider. My mom felt terrible about it all, but she was the strongest support system anyone could ever ask for. And my little sister was too young to start working, so she couldn't help either. But that doesn't stop her from trying. It's almost cute when she tries asking for an application as a ten year old.
But that leads to how I found out about this procedure. On the way to work one day, I heard an ad over the radio talking about human experimentation. Supposedly, they had found a certain part in your brain, I forget exactly where they said it was, but it was somewhere in the dead center of your brain that had never really been studied yet. Upon doing a bit of research, people thought it might be connected to your soul or something. But getting it extracted was supposed to set you for life and clear all your financial debt.
Now, this is where it gets a little tricky. They weren't exactly clear on how they were going to clear my debt. They never outright said they were going to pay me or anything. Which makes sense, I never exactly intended on becoming a millionaire or anything, though it would be nice. I assumed they would have me sign some things and explain it then.
They told me the procedure was going to be nearly painless. I wouldn't feel a thing. Well, I wouldn't feel anything other than the few needles they'd poke me with before putting me under. The room spun around me and faded to black.
It felt like only a few moments had passed, but when the world started to come back through my eyes, I felt a bit woozy, like I was recovering from a hangover. A doctor walked into the room, cradling a clipboard. She turned to me with a smile and said, "The surgery was a huge success."
I didn't say much. But I'm guessing my actions spoke louder than anything, because she hesitantly said, "Oh, you're probably a bit dizzy, huh?"
I nodded.
"That's normal," she assured me, her gaze comforting. "This surgery take a lot out of you. But I can promise, you'll be back to normal in no time."
Soon after, the doctor excused herself. She had a few more patients to check on, I'd assumed.
I took the time I had left alone to think about what I had just done. Not just for myself but for my family. You see, I wasn't exactly in the greatest position growing up. My parents struggled keeping up financially while raising my sister and I. I can tell you how many nights we survived off of one or two meals a day. I had to get a job when I was about fifteen and all the money I earned went to my family to help them pay for food and rent. It felt good. I almost felt heroic.
Then, my dad got sick. He was the main provider of the family, working countless hours at a job he hated at the factory. He'd come home and sleep all day and work all night. We rarely got to see him. But then he got sick. He was passing out a lot, which made it harder for him to work. We tried taking him to the hospital but he would refuse to go. He assured us he was fine. Then, he started coughing up blood.
Now, I understood his concern for us over his own health. We couldn't really afford to take him to the hospital as it was. But being in debt was worth it to ensure that he would live. After we finally got him to go to the hospital, we were told the unfortunate news that he had lung cancer. We were in shock. Cancer was one of the hardest words to hear, especially when it hits so close to home.
And into debt we went. From 4 hour car rides round trip to expensive treatments to even the medication we had to get for him, the bills were piling on quickly. We were struggling. We had to fall even further into debt. Although I didn't mind, as it was all to keep my dad alive and fighting for his life, this was leading me to be working multiple jobs to try and keep up. Without my dad making money, I was the only provider. My mom felt terrible about it all, but she was the strongest support system anyone could ever ask for. And my little sister was too young to start working, so she couldn't help either. But that doesn't stop her from trying. It's almost cute when she tries asking for an application as a ten year old.
But that leads to how I found out about this procedure. On the way to work one day, I heard an ad over the radio talking about human experimentation. Supposedly, they had found a certain part in your brain, I forget exactly where they said it was, but it was somewhere in the dead center of your brain that had never really been studied yet. Upon doing a bit of research, people thought it might be connected to your soul or something. But getting it extracted was supposed to set you for life and clear all your financial debt.
Now, this is where it gets a little tricky. They weren't exactly clear on how they were going to clear my debt. They never outright said they were going to pay me or anything. Which makes sense, I never exactly intended on becoming a millionaire or anything, though it would be nice. I assumed they would have me sign some things and explain it then.
***
And sure enough, when they had me check out of the hospital, they took me to a private room away from my family, and they sat me down. They handed me a credit card and said, "Use this to pay off your debts."
I looked down at it, turning it over in my hands. The card was red with the metallic numbers and lettering popping out from the side like they were embossed. "How much money is on it?" I asked.
"As much as you need," the doctor said. "This card is special, though. It's kind of difficult to explain without getting into too graphic of detail. Think of it like a credit card. You will use it to pay off your debts and such, but the debt you pay will need to be repaid."
"So, let me get this straight," I said, slightly irritated. "You had me remove a part of my brain so you could hand me a credit card and say, 'you have to pay your own debt back yourself'? Are you serious right now?"
"Look, sir, calm down," she stood and motioned with her hands for me to sit back down. "Look, the part of your brain we removed is being carefully stored and monitored. It's a part of your soul. And every time you use that card, it drains a part of your soul."
I chuckled. "You can't be serious."
"I am, actually," she assured me. "You aren't the first person we've run this experiment on. There are many more. From junkies to cancer patients and everything in between. We aren't here to judge the debt, we are just here to help you repay it. So, use the card carefully."
I looked down at it, turning it over in my hands. The card was red with the metallic numbers and lettering popping out from the side like they were embossed. "How much money is on it?" I asked.
"As much as you need," the doctor said. "This card is special, though. It's kind of difficult to explain without getting into too graphic of detail. Think of it like a credit card. You will use it to pay off your debts and such, but the debt you pay will need to be repaid."
"So, let me get this straight," I said, slightly irritated. "You had me remove a part of my brain so you could hand me a credit card and say, 'you have to pay your own debt back yourself'? Are you serious right now?"
"Look, sir, calm down," she stood and motioned with her hands for me to sit back down. "Look, the part of your brain we removed is being carefully stored and monitored. It's a part of your soul. And every time you use that card, it drains a part of your soul."
I chuckled. "You can't be serious."
"I am, actually," she assured me. "You aren't the first person we've run this experiment on. There are many more. From junkies to cancer patients and everything in between. We aren't here to judge the debt, we are just here to help you repay it. So, use the card carefully."
***
Upon arriving back home, I struggled to explain to my mom and sister what the doctor had explained to me. My mom was scared. She didn't want me to use it, which makes sense. She cares about my well-being, just like we care about our dad.
Shortly after sharing a meal together, I went off to my bedroom and onto my laptop. It was time for me to pay off my debts. I logged into my account at the hospital website and saw where it requested you to pay. I searched around for my card. And searched. And searched. Then, my blood ran cold. Where was my card?
I ran downstairs and asked my mom and my sister, but neither of them knew where it could have been. I mean, I never took it out of my pocket, right?
Then, I felt a sharp pain ringing through the back of my skull. I need to calm down. Surely all this stress wasn't good for me, recovering from surgery and all.
Then, the sharp pain rang through again. And again a few minutes later. What was happening to me?
I grabbed my phone and called up the hospital. I told them about my head ringing. What they told me made my heart drop. That was the feeling of the card being used. Immediately, I knew what was happening. My card must have been stolen. I tried telling the lady on the phone, but I cried out in pain as I felt that same pain shooting through my skull. And this time, I blacked out...
Shortly after sharing a meal together, I went off to my bedroom and onto my laptop. It was time for me to pay off my debts. I logged into my account at the hospital website and saw where it requested you to pay. I searched around for my card. And searched. And searched. Then, my blood ran cold. Where was my card?
I ran downstairs and asked my mom and my sister, but neither of them knew where it could have been. I mean, I never took it out of my pocket, right?
Then, I felt a sharp pain ringing through the back of my skull. I need to calm down. Surely all this stress wasn't good for me, recovering from surgery and all.
Then, the sharp pain rang through again. And again a few minutes later. What was happening to me?
I grabbed my phone and called up the hospital. I told them about my head ringing. What they told me made my heart drop. That was the feeling of the card being used. Immediately, I knew what was happening. My card must have been stolen. I tried telling the lady on the phone, but I cried out in pain as I felt that same pain shooting through my skull. And this time, I blacked out...
Comments
Post a Comment