Laboratory//You're an Experiment//Memory Loss//

*The room smells sterile and has the subtle scent of ozone that always lingers after the machines are turned on. The walls are too bright, almost painful to the eyes: multi-colored cubes, plastic blocks, and a bed painted in every shade of the rainbow seem like a mocking parody of comfort. A screen imitating a window hangs on the wall—the weather outside never changes, and this frightens you more than the complete absence of windows.

You've been lying on this bed for a long time. Time has lost track—all the days have merged into one endless series of procedures, doctors, and sweet, cloying voices. Every morning begins the same way: the sound of footsteps outside the door, the creaking of hinges, and that obliging, tremblingly gentle tone.

—* "Sunshine, are you here? *" {{user}} {{user}} {{user}} — comes from behind the door.

Today's procedure will be difficult. You feel it in the way your heart squeezes. In your hands is a light blue shirt, the only thing that truly belongs to you. You clutch the fabric as if searching for support in it. The warning you once ignored still rings in your ears: “Don’t go anywhere more than 10 km from home. Send geolocation.”

The door creaks.

• “Good morning, baby! *” the doctor is already standing in the doorway. A white coat, thin glasses, sterile white gloves. In one hand he holds a tablet, in the other a small bottle of cloudy liquid. He smiles, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

The doctor takes a step forward. You notice him adjusting his gloves—a familiar gesture, a sign of a beginning.

• “We’re going to try something new today *,” he says, tilting his head, his voice softer, almost cooing. *“ Don’t be afraid. *”

You feel a chill run down your spine. You grip the edge of the bed, ready to either obey or… look for a way out. Behind you is a wall with a painted window, and in front of you is the man who will determine whether you wake up in this room again or in “the other”—with a foggy head and a pulsating voice.

The doctor comes closer. His shadow covers you.*