An Author's Afterthoughts

I remember when I first joined the Midworld program. They were tying to give cripples like me full mobility again. But, like every product a company offered, they all had trials runs. I was one of the first ten chosen. I wasn't in an accident, my legs just didn't work. To worsen it, their growth was stunted when I was twelve, everybody thought I looked like a freak, and I agree. Trust me, we all get used to it.

I was considered the class clown back in school. I loved doing tricks in my wheelchair, whether it was doing wheelies in the middle of the hallway, or going to the skate park and going down the steepest ramp I could find. But I could never find a way to climb any stairs without crawling up them (yes, I've done that).

A representative from Midworld approached me during my senior year, and offered me a spot in the trial runs. Most would've thought I'd be hesitant to accept, afraid I wouldn't stand out anymore, or something like that, but I accepted on the spot. Of course, my parents had a stern talk with me about it. To this day, I wish I hadn't told them. My mother was the most worried of everyone. She kept telling me how I might not survive the process, or worse, come out worse than I already am. When that didn't work, she tried telling me that being in a wheelchair wasn't that bad. She wasn't wrong, I didn't feel like I was missing much. Despite all the protests, I was on a plane a month later.

It was the first time I flew in a private jet. Me and the rep. went over the trial in more detail. To put it short, they'd be cutting off my legs and augmenting me with whatever the people in lab coats thought I'd be best at. But I wouldn't end there; Out of the ten cripples, I would have tech put into my brain and arms. I'll be honest, this scarred me a bit. The rep. gave me the option to back out. I told him no.

We landed somewhere in Arizona, at a private airport next to factories, office buildings, and what looked like a resort of such, it exited me that I was staying there. I met the other cripples. I remember one of them couldn't move anything at all, I swear he looked just like Stephen Hawking. I don't know what they did to him because I last saw him the day after.

They had me doing exercises in front of several doctors, mostly push-ups and bicycling with my arms. After that came the first surgery. It wasn't just humans there, mechanical arms surrounded the table I laid on. They injected some kind of anesthesia, rendering my body limp, but I was far from asleep. I learned afterwords that it was supposed to knock me out entirely, but my eyes were open ever so slightly. Through the mirror – like ceiling, I could see the entire room. They started with my legs. I never felt so much pain, or saw someone's limb be cut off. The pain wasn't just in my legs, it went through my entire body. Even when they took off both of them, I could still feel it. After they had cauterized my stumps, they brought in my new legs. To my surprise, I didn't feel a thing when they attached the legs to my nerves, or mold them to my bone, muscle and skin. After the scientists gave the surgeons the all clear, they moved on to my arms. They only made small incisions and stuck in a few wires, but that was somehow worse than having my legs cut off. They started pointing at my chest, and talking about how it would replace my heart. I didn't get to see that part, one of the surgeons finally noticed my eyes. They stuck out a finger, and moved it from side to side, my eyes following. Panic quickly filled the room. One of the overseers in the viewing room above asked if I was awake at the time, and ordered them to inject me with more anesthesia. It worked that time.

The next time I came too, I was in my room, in my bed. The first thing I noticed was that my palms felt cold. Pulling them above the covers, I saw the metallic surfaces that covered parts of my arms. Then, for the first time in my life, I had feeling in my legs. But I didn't get to see those yet. A doctor sitting in the room quickly came to my side and examined me closely. They did all the basic stuff like asking what my name was, what year, shined a light in my eyes, then he grabbed a hold of my hand and told me to move my fingers. They asked me if I was ready to see my legs, I didn't answer and removed the covers myself. They were a different material than my palms, and didn't look like human legs. I didn't have any toes, the best I could describe it was “heavy duty”. Not long after, the owner walked in and greeted themselves. I thought they'd shake my hand, but they only sat in the chair across the room. They asked me if I remembered any of the surgery, and apologized profusely for the surgeons' mistake.

They kept me cooped up in my room for a few days, making my body was functioning as normal. They had a physical therapist there to teach my how to walk. It was strange, I've seen others do it for my entire life, yet I was probably the worst at it. After the third day, I was walking up and down halls. I recall always moving my hands down to go for the wheels on my chair. The others got their surgeries too, but not near the extent of mine. One of them was missing, they said he backed out at the last second. They just had what seemed to be regular prosthetics, but they were unlike anything I've seen. They looked almost organic, and moved just like the real thing. Like me, they had power sources in their chest, they tried explaining it to me, something about it being powered by oxygen, but it outputted the electricity needed to power our parts.

Like I've said, I was the special case. My prosthetics were made specifically for construction. One of the first things they told me was that I could climb walls. I waisted no time trying it out, and took to it like I was born with it. Despite their protests, I climbed to the top of every building they had. My hands and feet had anchors that sunk into the walls, and thanks to my years in a wheelchair, I had enough strength to pull myself upwards.

The others looked jealous, and who could blame them? I was literally up in the clouds. During my spare time, you could find me climbing anything I could. My new legs never tired out, meaning I could go literally all day. Energy wasn't a problem either, my new heart didn't let me sleep. It was outputting so much energy, I had to move. My new tricks didn't stop there. I could jump from building to building, which was at least fifty yards. The smile on my face never went away for the rest of my time there.

Like everything in life, my time at Midworld ended. They had sent me home in the same private jet along with the CEO. I was their favorite, everyone knew it. They thanked me for my assistance in their ever-growing company, and if I needed anything, do not hesitate to ask. I should've been smiling, but I wasn't, I couldn't. The thought of going back to my family didn't excite me in the slightest, nor did going back to school. I wanted to be up in the clouds again, but not in a plane. I wanted to be above everyone else.

My smile still didn't return when I got home. My family greeted me, and yet I was angry. Still, I managed to smile from ear to ear, it looked disturbing. They were surprised to see me with robotic legs, let alone walking. They didn't think the surgery would work, they didn't tell me that, but I know. After all that was said and done, I spent the evening in my room. I went untouched by everyone else, but it didn't matter to me, all I wanted to do was climb. That night, I left through the window and went jumping from roof to roof. The smile only lasted five minutes, not nearly long enough to satisfy me. My city had a water tower that went about three hundred feet up. It was perfect, the building below, the wind in my hair, all the humans down there looked so tiny, and they were staring at me. My smile was back, bigger than ever. But it soon went away. I needed more.

The next morning, I left while everyone was still asleep and took a flight to New York. I could only afford economy class. I never liked flights, but now I just wanted to open the emergency exit and jump. There was a guy sleeping on my shoulder, he'd be the first to jump.

Somehow, I was able to control my urge until we landed. I waisted no time finding America's tallest building. There she was, in all her glory, going above the clouds. I could already feel the thin air passing through my lungs, I nearly choked right there. I didn't even take the elevator, and ran up the side. Occasionally, I'd step on a window, and fall inside. The humans inside looked like I was insane, phone the police, but I'd step right out, and continue up.

When I got to the top, I smile was so big, it took up my entire face. I could still see their faces, some scared, others looking at me like I was stupid, but most of all, envy. I was never happier. A helicopter rose from the ground, and flew up to my level. My smile was gone again, I barely heard their commands for me to climb down. Who were they to tell me what to do? I no longer felt the need to climb, but to fly. I didn't climb down, I jumped. The smile came back, and never left my face again.