Recalibration

There's only one sentence, now. If you're Guilty, like me, you go to a Recalibration Centre, like this one.

I've seen pictures of where they used to send criminals. This looks different. It's tall, shiny, and white. It looks like a hospital had a hate baby with a cathedral, and the resulting offspring got a mishmash of soulless characteristics.

There's lots of glass. Weird, you wouldn't think glass is secure.

I think it's part of the headfuck. "We'll put you in a glass house, and you still won't get out."

I sip my Dr Pepper. The bus rolls up the to barrier. The driver does whatever he has to do to get us inside. This bit is secure, but it's to stop people getting in. To protect us. There was an incident a few years ago where someone got in. Someone very angry, who didn't think Recalibration was bad enough for somebody. It got messy.

We shuffle in a line, chains clinking. Won't need them much longer.

There aren't many of us.

Once inside, we all look up and around, trotting along, our heads swinging like cattle. It's got that antiseptic smell.

It's open-plan. We see people being Recalibrated. It's... unnerving. My eyes rake over the the rows of them, going all the way up the walls. Each one still as a mannequin.

They aren't given anything so dignified as underwear. Skin-coloured tape is bandaged around certain bits. Somehow, this seems nearly as bad as being nude.

The seed of an idea blooms in my mind. That's the punishment, the deterrent. Not the Recalibration itself. That's just a means to end, a way to make dead certain of a zero percent reoffending rate.

The man in front of me steps through the metal detector. His belongings are boxed up, and numbered to match his wristband. He goes into a tiny cubicle. He's wheeled out. Naked, bandaged, and staring like those other poor fucks on the walls. We watch them shave his head, attach the electrodes, and wheel him to his spot. He's hoisted into place slowly.

My turn. I need to pee. I feel hot, scared, and groggy. I stagger into the cubicle. Everything goes black.

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Word count excluding note: 366

Submitted on Monday 15th July at 23:00

*Quick Author's Note*

First, and most importantly: thank you so much for reading my story! The ha'penny that Vocal will toss in my hat for your eyeballs landing on this humble piece will be well-spent.

If you enjoyed this one, the very best compliment you can give me is to share it, or read another!

A Year of Stories

I'm writing a story every day this year. This one continues my 197 day streak since 1st January.


Please do consider lending your support to the other creators who are also on this madcap "a story every day" adventure. They are putting out excellent content every day!

Rachel Deeming

Gerard DiLeo

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Thank you!

Thank you again, most sincerely. Especially if you are one of the wonderful people who has been staunchly reading these daily scribbles since the start of the year. I see you, and appreciate you very much indeed!

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