Tina Chan: imperfect

“Maria Shea?” asked a doctor dressed in a crisp, mint colored uniform.

“That’s me,” the woman lying on the hospital bed replied.

“Congratulations with your newborn.” The doctor handed her a bundle of blanket with an infant girl swaddled within.

Maria held her baby tenderly, dreading the next words the doctor was going to say.

“According to my notes, this was an unplanned pregnancy. Am I correct?”

She nodded.

“An officer will arrive in an hour to collect this Accident. Would you like to hold onto your newborn until collection time?”

“No.” Maria’s heart broke as she thrust the infant away from her. “Take the Accident out of my sight.”

The doctor accepted the baby; he didn’t look surprised by Maria’s request. It was better this way—less painful for the mother to part with the child if they minimalized contact between them.

Maria watched the doctor leave the room, knowing she would never see that child again. Once the government confiscated her, she was as good as dead to Maria.

There was a sharp rap on the door. Maria jumped to her feet and hurriedly ushered the man outside into the house. The man held a bundle in the crook of his arm. An Accident. Not the same one she had given up five years ago. But it was still an Accident—a chance for Maria to pacify her guilty conscience.

She never did fully escape the memory of giving up that child. Without a word, the man handed the infant to Maria. She gazed down at its tiny face, knowing this was her hope to redeem herself. When she looked up again, the man was gone.

Her husband observed the baby from a distance. “I can’t believe you agreed to take in this Accident. It’s not just our necks we’re risking, but also our son’s.”

Maria held the Accident tight against her chest. “The government isn’t going to find her. We have connections that can help us conceal her from the government until she’s old enough.”

People wouldn’t notice if an infant disappeared without a trace—that happened all the time. But if a toddler was to vanish, people would start talking. All I have to do is keep her safe for three years, Maria thought.

“There’s a good reason why Accidents are removed from society,” her husband said. “Imagine out medical bills for this…child. We don’t know what type of health issues she may develop—asthma, high blood pressure.” He muttered some expletives under his breath, but promptly shut up when he noticed his son crouching behind the sofa. His Perfect son. “Jaiden, I see you.”

The little boy ran out and peered at the Accident cradled in Maria’s arms. “Who is she?”

“Your new sister,” Maria said.

Jaiden looked at his sister, round eyed and excited. “Can I play with her? Can we go to the beach together? Will we go to school together?”

Maria nodded. “Of course.”

“Provided she doesn’t get confiscated by the government,” her husband muttered darkly. “The officials will discover us harboring this Accident soon.”

He was wrong.

Kristi blinked the sleepiness out of her eyes and pulled the blanket over her. The sunlight still seeped through though, rendering her efforts to sleep in futile. She rolled onto her side and stared at the alarm clock glowing 9:42; she definitely was not a morning person.

With a groan, she sat up, mumbling, “Any time before ten in the morning is too early.” She still hadn’t figured out how she survived school on a weekly basis.

Kristi slid down the banister of the spiral staircase, something she hadn’t done in a while. She hopped down at the base of the stairs, landing on the balls of her feet. The house seemed quiet—too quiet.

“Is everyone still sleeping?” Kristi wandered into the empty kitchen. “And I thought I was a late sleeper,” Kristi said to herself. “Maria and Don are probably sleeping in if they stayed up late doing work. But Jaiden should be up already; he’s always awake before I am.”

Kristi always referred to her adoptive parents as Maria and Don, never Mom and Dad; it wasn’t that she purposely refused to call them Mom and Dad—it was just that they weren’t very close. Jaiden, her brother, on the other hand, was someone Kristi had known her entire life. She couldn’t imagine not having him as a brother, whether he was related by blood or not.

Kristi’s eyes trailed from the fridge to the kitchen island. “Oh, crap,” she said.

The electro-note left on the smart-glass kitchen counter reminded her that Sunday Gathering was today at nine o’clock. She scanned the note and then mentally smacked herself on the forehead. The note read:

Kristi:

Don, Jaiden and I are volunteering at the Sunday Gathering an hour early. Be sure to arrive on time.

PS,

Waffles are in the fridge.

Kristi snatched an energy bar from the cabinets; there was no time for waffles. She cursed Glenn, the Speaker’s son, for damaging her hydro-bike. Walking to the Gathering Hall took at least ten minutes, a feat she could’ve accomplished in five if she had her hydro-bike. Alas, her hydro-bike was sitting at Mechanic Leo’s garage, waiting to be fixed.

Halfway out the front door, Kristi face-palmed herself. She let out a sigh of exasperation and stormed back up the stairs and to her room. She had forgotten her windbreaker and walking in the drizzle without a jacket would be no fun.

She accidentally kicked her wardrobe then yanked up her throbbing foot. She blamed her birth parents for her troubles.

It’s their fault I’m not perfect. Why couldn’t they have me be normal? Why couldn’t I be a Perfect like everyone else? Kristi knew she shouldn’t hold a grudge against them for something they didn’t ask for, but sometimes being the only Accident in town really got on her nerves.

In a world where all citizens were genetically perfect, thanks to science, it’s hard not to feel like a sore thumb when her DNA hadn’t been specialized. There are too many things that could go wrong for a baby born without genetic modifications.

Take me for example, Kristi thought. I have so many allergies it would be pointless to keep track of them. Oak. Dandelion. Birds. Peanuts. Wool.

Kristi never figured out why Don and Maria adopted her in the first place. Who would want an infant with no genetic modification when you could freaking customize your own kids?

Want your kid to be a girl? Gender specification costs only fifty points. Want your daughter to have blonde hair? Twenty-five points. Want to give your daughter green eyes? Another twenty-five points. Of course, basic DNA alterations, such as allergy preventions were free; allergies were a symptom Perfects never had to worry about. The result was a Perfect baby. So why didn’t I get my DNA tweaked? Why am I even alive? Those were two questions that had haunted Kristi for as long as she could remember.

It was unusual enough for an Accident like Kristi to even be born, but for an Accident to survive past infancy was unheard of. All Accidents, save Kristi, mysteriously disappear within weeks of being born. After all, the government couldn’t have a bunch of kids with bad genes running around and corrupting the Perfect kids, could they? So it was indeed very unusual for Kristi to be adopted into a wealthy family.

Her alarm clock blared, announcing it was now 10:00. Stop dawdling, Kristi scolded herself, and get on the move. She threw on her jacket and hurtled out the front door.