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Emily - A tale about mutation 05
🕑 Added 2020-06-13 22:46:18 +0000 UTC
“Did you go to the hospital?” Paul asked, concerned. He didn’t know much about the mutation process but he had read articles online that said they could sometimes cause health complications.
Emily couldn’t help but laugh. The whole situation was absurd. “Relax,” she said “If you mutated I would have also asked the same question. It’s strange though. I haven’t seen them. I didn’t want to enter in a public restroom standing barefoot to check. But I feel them. The sudden growth of my leg distracted me but… I could kind of feel them opening up, rewiring my insides as I was changing.”
“Well, that makes things weirder” said Paul.
“Right? I mean, what will I do when I go to the bathroom? What if it comes out of the wrong hole? Or both at the same time!? -Emily exclaimed flailing her hands, eyes open wide.
“I think you should seek professional help. Isn't there a number to call to help new mutants?”
“Oh right!” Emily said as she searched her wallet for her emergency card. It had been years since she first underwent tests to detect the mutant gene. The doctors detected several abnormalities, less body odor and perspiration, naturally silky hair, a slightly faster metabolism, at the time she figured if those were the only mutations she could live a happy life. The lack of sweat and faster metabolism meant she overheated easily, but that was a minor annoyance that she fixed by drinking a lot of water staying in cool placed.
But the doctors said that her mutations were nowhere near done expressing themselves. They said that her mutant gene was a “bomb” that could be detonated at any time. That’s when they gave her this card, complete with a tracking number and a phone number for a mutant assistance hotline. She was instructed to call should any new mutations show themselves. To be honest, it made her uncomfortable. Being associated with an tracking number made her feel kind of like cattle. So she buried the card deep in her purse and forgot about it. Of course, that meant it totally slipped her mind when she really needed it.
She plugged her phone into a charger and as soon as it started up, she dialed the number of the mutant assistance hotline. She took her shoes off and arranged herself into a three legged “lotus” position as the phone rang. She had to go through a million robo-menus before she finally got to talk to someone. It felt like an eternity, but eventually a kind female voice answered.
