My fingers caress the window, leaving smudges on the thick glass. My room is so cold. I feel like I'm sleeping in snow, shrouded by sheets of ice and not fabric. It has to be warm outside of this hospital. Or, at least, not freezing. With a sigh, I can imagine the sun-kissed ground, full of green flora and young happy children running around, their minds bursting with imagination. The picture looks so good, so calming, so warm.

Suddenly, the image in my mind changes. The green is stripped away and replaced with an earthy color and a wondrous smell of spices and herbs. I can spot smaller, yet roomy, houses dotting the hillside. Children run around, tossing a dusty soccer ball back and forth between their feet. I drop my fingers and close my eyes, my smile fading. Yet again, I'm picturing my little village in India, my real home.

I'd left everything behind a couple of months ago. It had all started when I'd gotten word from my pen-pal, a sweet American girl by the name of Angelica. She'd told me in scribbly, rushed handwriting that her sister, who she so cleverly dubbed the "mad scientist of the family", was working on an invention that could rid the world of pain. Some kind of an implant that would save humanity from it's biggest enemy- itself. I couldn't believe the news at first; All I knew was that I had to get to America. I had to get this implant. It would be a permanent cure to my depression, my hopelessness. And maybe, just maybe, if everything worked out fine I could bring back my newfound joy to others suffering in my village. To spread the gift the O' Mallery's had granted to the rest of the world became my goal.

I mastered English. I worked double shifts at my job in order to afford that plane ticket, switching to an online college in the process. I spoke with the few relatives I had in America, making sure I had a place to stay. I arranged for a new job overseas. I wrote to Angelica more and more feverantly. I fought tooth and nail for that visa. I broke my family's heart, including my boyfriend's. That was by far the hardest part; Seeing the tears in their eyes, knowing that in my quest to free myself from pain I was igniting more of it in others. I thought the heartbreak would be worth it in the end. It had been incredibly unbearable, but I'd done it all...only to end up here.

I'd gotten off that plane with high hopes and an undying smile. Before I even went to seek out a shower I drove to that hospital. But before receiving my chip, I had to pass a screening test. Basic stuff, just to make sure it would be medically safe to rip open my head and stuff a piece of metal in it. During my first test, they found a tumor in my body. Fortunately, the cancer was in an early stage. The nurses told me to thank my lucky stars they'd found it, and removed it, in time. But that little clump of damaged cells was enough to boot me off the list to receive my chip. I'd be released from this hospital any day now, sick and depressed and chip-free.

"Ms. Riya?"

I flash my eyes open as a nurse strolls in, clipboard in hand.

"Yes?"

Her image suddenly flickers blue for a few moments, her smile contorted. I scowl. It had long been common practice for holograms to replace people in such settings, but the lack of real human interaction had always bothered me.

"The doctors think it would be good for you to visit other patients. We don't want you to move around a lot, and you don't have to socialize for very long, but you should still go out and eat lunch with others. Okay?"

She flashes me a smile and I force a nod. She moves over towards the bed, gesturing at the shiny black wheel chair next to it. I roll my eyes, knowing she didn't have any feelings for me to hurt. I scoot over the sheets, edging my way into the chair. My body aches as I move, still sore after surgery.

I slowly wheel my way out of my room, following the blue haze of the holographic nurse. The halls of this place look sterile, the scent of medicine and antibacterial soap burning away any other smells. The wheels squeak ever so slightly as I move out of the hallway and into a lobby.

At this particular hospital, almost every level has a lobby that serves as some sort of social gathering place. People also eat here sometimes. The room is usually populated by a few tired looking patients and smiling holograms. The surgical unit is no exception, the space complete with brightly light windows and lime-green sofas, the temperature cold, as always. I shiver as I slide next to a seat where a smiling young man sits. He shoots me a particularly toothy grin and I nod, trying to contain my envy. I try not to narrow my eyes and grit my teeth. Instead, I force a returned smile, no doubt less convincing.

"Healing alright?" I say. "Heard the implant surgery can sometimes take a while. Well, I guess being in total euphoria all the time makes up for it..."

He lets out a hearty laugh, his eyes like honey. My eyes drift to his silky shirt with intricate designs. It suits his perfectly styled hair and shiny shoes. This man is oozing money, as I know all who get the chip are. Really, the only reason that I ever had a prayer of affording the implant was because Angelica was supposed to help me. Provide a scholarship, if that makes more sense.

"Yes, yes!" he says. "I'm healing fine!"

"Wish I could say the same..." I murmur, pushing my jet-black hair behind my ears. I shiver yet again, pulling on my sleeves in hope of more defense against the chilly air.

"I'm sure you'll be fine soon," he says. "I take it you haven't gotten the Achelois chip? What are you in for, then?"

I recap my story for him, biting my lip to stop it from quivering.

"My, that's quite a tale."

"You can say that again," I say with a smirk.

It's then that I notice something a bit...strange. His eyes dart towards the camera. If it were biologically possible to look nervous, I would be staring at creased worry-lines in his brow. He looks back. With a single swift, graceful motion, he shoves a crumpled piece of paper into my hand.

"The nurses say I shouldn't be out for long, I'm going to get some rest. It was such a joy to meet you, have a nice day!"

Without another word, the man gets up and moves away. I blink, the note weighing heavily in my hand. My eyes are like lead as I look down and unfold the paper. Two words, planted right in the middle of the page, are written neatly;

Help me