The AHP

The Artificial Human Project.
Prologue:
Three times a year it happens whether I want it to or not. Three times a year I have to go "or else". Three times a year I suffer unwillingly in the name of science. Three times a year I die.

“Applicant 12 ready. Please answer the questions as truthful as you can, miss."
“Yes, ma’am."
“Science is thankful for your volunteer."

Acknowledgements:
To three friends in particular. You know who you are, your names are in the book. I’m still waiting for the ten bucks I was promised.

This book is a work comprised of full fictional scenarios; any relation to people living or dead is purely coincidental. Please keep in mind that this work is protected by Copyright Laws. DO NOT COPY SCENES or use the characters and situations as your own. Read at your own risk.

Oh, Hey there lovely bookworms and bookdragons. I am a young writer who has dreamed of this for a while. Thank you for taking this first step into the world of AHP: The Artificial Human Project. I’m terrified already of what people might think. I know it is very amateur as I’m still learning. Please comment to your heart’s content. Even constructive criticisms are welcomed since they may help. Now, without further ado, Chapter One!








On My Honor
Chapter 1 – Anxiety and Me

“Mikale!? Mikale answer me this instant."

“Yes, mom!?"

“Your AHP letter is here! You need to start packing tomorrow, okay?"

“Oh, great," I mutter, pushing myself backwards in a terribly squeaky rolling chair and throwing my phone onto my bed, abandoning the game. I have a week to get ready for a trip in which I might possibly die. Oh Joy. After a few minutes of aimlessly staring at the ground, the hands of anxiety start to creep up the small of my back and head for my throat. “I don't want to die," I whisper repeatedly. My thoughts jam up and the hands around my throat are slowly constricting away the air I need to live.

“No, Mik, no, stop worrying, anxiety won't help." I mumble this to myself as my body thrusts out of the chair and into an open doorway near. A shower will help. Scalding water can temporarily ease the fear.

I knew it would get worse. It always did so why would this time be any better? Perhaps it's because last time it happened, I found a way to get myself out of the endless cycle of worry. That day promised myself I’d never worry again. Obviously I suck at keeping my own promises. Now I sit in the shower while hugging my knees to my chest and savoring the feeling of scalding water as it hits my back. The pain makes me want to jump out of the shower, but I force myself to think of it instead of
the fear. While it helps now, I know it will not last.

“Please," I beg to an unknown force," I don't want to be afraid. I don't want to die." Tears burn my eyes, but I cannot separate them from the water streaming down my face. Suddenly, I yank the hot water knob all the way down and within 5 seconds, I'm being blasted with ice-laced water. I immediately jump up, my body still feeling the harsh effects of sitting in boiling water. My eyes lose focus and I feel faint. The feeling passes and the cold water quickly has me shivering and creates a pinprick sensation from head to toe.

Shaking, I step out of the shower, not bothering to wrap a towel around me as I sink to my knees and unleash a blast of half-digested food into the toilet. My stomach clenches tightly with every heave. Then, I go through my after-puke routine like a robot as I try desperately to keep my mind blank. When my teeth are brushed and I've chugged a whole water bottle, I look for a towel in the chair of mystery which holds many clothes and random crap. Soon I'm snuggled on the bed with a bright fluffy towel trying to steady my hands as they tremor. Dialing my friend’s number is a fight, but eventually I get there.

“What’s up, Miki?" My tether to reality answers in a sing-song voice. It gives me hope in the corner of my mind, but I am too far into the dark to cling to it.

“I don't want to die…." That's all my pathetic voice can say as my chest squeezes tight and I am unable to speak. A sudden drowsiness hits, but my mind reminds me that if I fall asleep the world will crash down on me. I try to stop the thoughts, the feelings; I remind myself that I'm not going to die any time soon. It does nothing to sooth my mind. The tightness of my chest spikes a deep-set phobia of suffocating which does nothing but terrify my brain more.

“Miki?" There's a pause, I cannot speak." Is your mom there? Do I need to come over?" Another pause, shorter than the last." Calm down, you’re not going to die. One more thought like that and I'll reach through the phone and slap some sense into you. I'm coming over, be there in 10 minutes." One sigh of relief and my chest relaxes enough to allow stable breathing. The drowsiness that hit me moments before sends a new wave and my eyes close as the screen on my phone turns to black. I don't sleep though, my mind is too awake for that.
“Mikale?" I hear my mom’s voice. No doubt she knows what's happening, but doesn't know how to help and is afraid to make it worse." Your friend is here. She's staying the night."

Wow, I think in a brief second of hallucinogenic clarity, how did she get here so fast? Has it been ten minutes already? My mind swims with attacking thoughts of death and what comes after. I want it to stop. It does when a cover is thrown over me. Silly me, I smile, I'm only in a towel. A hand rubs my shoulder and a girl, almost a mirror to my own body and soul lays down. Her hair is long and brown, only slightly darker than my own. Her skin is the same pale shade and copycatting freckles dot her face. The similarities comfort me as much as the differences. I try to speak but only a babyish cackle of noise comes out. She quickly shushes me and reaches over to push a bundle of wet hair off my face.

“You’re scaring me, Love. Please calm down. Carson was going to come over, but she's babysitting. Please, Love, just relax." She pulls my hands form their prison under the pillows. Her warm hands hold mine and she presses them against her cheek. “Repeat after me. I'm real, you're real." She says as she presses our hands to my own flushed cheek.

“I’m real, you're real," I repeat in a weak attempt while looking at her. Her eyes hold me in a scary way. I want to look away and to pull the blanket over my face. I don’t know why. Nothing makes sense.

“Good," her voice is light, almost cheery." Do you smell that? I lit a candle, it smells like marshmallows doesn't it?"

I sniff the air and smell the fragrance of marshmallows roasting over a fire. A short, barely-there memory of camping flashes at the front of my mind." It does." Her grip tightens slightly and I want to pull my hands away and bury them back under the pillows.

“Remember that tomorrow we will look back on this and feel bad for ever thinking this way, right? Tomorrow you're gonna wake up and feel silly for acting this way."

I smile even if I don't feel happiness in it." I'm gonna feel silly for acting this way."

She smiles and exhaustion pulls my eyes down. Crying for what must be the h
hundredth time, I let her wrap an arm around my shoulder." Sleep, I'll watch you until you wake up."

With fear still pounding into my mind, I force my eyes shut and let my body shut down.