The high pitched whistling sound of the scanner hurt her ears. Its red light raked over her body searching for a weapon. Abby stood rigid, trying to not even breath. One wrong move and the machine would turn her into a pile of ash.

When the machine was satisfied that she was weaponless the doors in front of her slid open. The smell of lilies and roses hit her the moment she stepped inside Doctor Ava Lyle's office.

Everything was so clean and neat that Abby felt self conscious about the dirt on her hands and face. A big part of her wanted to run out of the door and go home, especially when she saw Doctor Lyle's face for the first time.

It wasn't a secret that the doctor was once a host herself, and Abby had heard the rumours about the changes they went through, but still the purple eyes and icy blue lips shocked her.

"Take a seat," Doctor Lyle requested. There was an unconscious thin layer of smugness in her voice. Abby had heard from the maids that cleaned the houses in the avenue that all hosts were smug, but they didn't know it.

They were going to live forever while everyone around them were going to wither and die, of course they were secretly arrogant and smug.

Abby wondered as she watched Doctor Lyle sit up straight in her chair, whether she had become a host for the same reasons that Abby was going to become one or because she just wanted to live forever.

"Your file says you have a heart condition?" Doctor Lyle asked, her voice soft and her accent posh.

"Yes," Abby answered; her heart since birth was a ticking time bomb, and it was ready to go off. "It's why I signed up to see if I was compatible to become a host".

Doctor Lyle tapped a pen against her bottom lip.

Abby twisted her fingers together nervously on her lap. Everyone knew that Doctor Lyle made the final decision on who was eligible to become a host.

When she was in the hospital being tested to see if she was genetically compatible she had heard rumours about Doctor Lyle. She took a dislike to candidates for any little thing. If they chewed gum too loudly or used too much deodorant. Small things like that and then she'd do everything possible to make sure a candidate didn't become a host.

"You passed the genetic tests and the psychological tests. I can't see your heart condition being an issue," Doctor Lyle confirmed, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear as if it not being there was offensive to her sense of perfection. It was then that Abby noticed that was wearing thick black gloves. Once when she was a child, her mother had told her that hosts always wore gloves in public. No one had seen their hands in years.

"In my opinion, you'll make a perfect host, it's just now a matter of getting the Signums to agree to it".

"How long will that take?" Abby questioned, trying to keep her voice even. Time was something that was not on her side. It was a luxury she couldn't afford to waste.

"No more than a week, then once they give the okay, you will immediately be taken to the sapphire facility." The doctor smiled a little. Abby saw the flash of her perfectly white teeth. Instead of it being comforting and reassuring, it reminded her of an old cartoon, she watched when she was younger.

A funny looking fox would try to catch these chickens, and just before it was about to put its latest plan into action it would smile the way Doctor Lyle was smiling.

~~~

Abby wrinkled her nose in disgust at the glass of tomato and lime juice in front of her.

The doctors told her it was good for her, but it tasted vile.

The alarm on the wall shrills letting her know that it is nine pm and the curfew is in full effect. Anybody found outside before seven am, would end up getting arrested. The only people who ever went outside after curfew were the Rise movement of graffiti messages all over the city.

Abby raised the glass to her lips and took a big gulp, fighting back the urge to gag. Tomato and lime were a beverage invented by the devil.

"Soon you won't have to do this, " a voice in the back of her head whispers.

Abby heard the familiar voice of Noah, calling out to her from the communication screen from the living room. Every night he would check she was safe indoors.

"Abby, you there?"

Abby practically skipped out of the kitchen to the living room. Grateful for the interruption as it was an excuse to leave the rest of the drink.

Abby grinned the moment she saw his face on the screen.

"How did it go today?" Noah asked as she sat on the sofa. She could tell he was tired just by looking at him. He had smudges of dirt on his face made even more noticeable by the paleness from lack of sunlight.

"It went well. Doctor Lyle just needs to get the say so from the Signums and then I'll be sent to the Sapphire facility," Abby explained, trying to keep her voice light and cheerful. She knew Noah didn't want her to do this.

"And then you'll be implanted with the spawn of our alien oppressors' yay," Noah muttered wearily. She could hear the anger in his tone, and she understood it. Noah spent all day digging and shoveling dirt for the Signum just like his father had before he died.

Abby herself wasn't filled with joy of having one growing inside her like she dreamed one day her own child would grow.

It was dangerous to call the Signums oppressors' when talking on the communication screens. Everyone knew the government monitored them since the riots of 2093. The only form of communication that was safe was face to face even then there were cameras all over the city watching and listening to everything.

Some said that the curfew alarms were bugged.

"Abby, I have an early start tomorrow I have to go. Don't forget to put your mask on before bed."

"Night, and I won't."

Abby watched the screen go black. He always told her not to forget to put the mask on.

The mask went over her mouth and nose, it had wires attached to it. The wires were attached to a large, silver metal canister. The canister had chemicals that helped her heart to keep beating while she slept.

Her whole life she'd worn a mask to help her live. She hated it. It kept her alive, but she loathed it with a burning passion.

"You'll be free of the mask soon," the voice in the back of her head whispers soothingly.