[ WP ] You get a deep cut for the first time in your life , instead of bone or muscle , you see wires .

“ MOM! ” I burst through the door shouting, holding my arm. Blood dripped down the side of the cut, just like every other cut that I ’ ve ever gotten. But this one was deep, and my flesh split at least an inch open. Below the layer of skin was rubber that the blood seemed to just slide right off of. And underneath that, wires wrapped in green and purple, along with a mass of metal tubes and other shining parts. Some of them had been cut too, and every time I tried to move my pinky it would cause a shower of sparks to erupt from the severed end. “ MOM!!! ” I shouted again. 
 
 She came dashing out of the kitchen with a dishcloth in hand, which she dropped as soon as she saw the gash across my forearm. “ Honey, what happened?? ” Her fingers prodded the skin, and she ushered me into the bathroom. 
 
 “ I was biking, and I… there was a patch of gravel… and… ” the words came out in between sobs. I couldn ’ t even finish explaining. “ Mom, what *is this*? Why are there wires in my arm? ” 
 
 “ I don ’ t know, Honey. ” She was mopping up the blood with toilet paper, leaving a red-stained pile of them on the counter. Every other time I ’ d gotten a cut, she ’ d put it under the sink to wash, but not this time. “ Let ’ s just clean this up and get you to the doctor, OK? ” 
 
 “ Mom, why are there wires? ” I continued to sob. “ What am I? ” 
 
 Mom bit her lip and finished bandaging up my arm. She didn ’ t answer the question. As soon as the bleeding was staunched, she brought me to the car. “ Keep holding it there, OK? ” she told me. The bandage was wrapped around the cut, but there was a faint burning smell coming from it. “ I ’ m just going to call Dad on the way, all right? ” 
 
 We pulled out into the driveway while Mom held the phone. I could faintly hear the ringing on the other end. “ Tom, she cut her arm today riding her bike. *Deep*. ” 
 
 “ How deep? ” Dad asked. 
 
 Mom glanced at me in the rearview mirror to make sure I was still holding the bandage in place. A wisp of smoke curled up from one corner of it. “ Pretty deep, ” she answered him in a quiet tone. 
 
 “ I ’ ll meet you at the doctor ’ s, ” he said. 
 
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 We squealed to a stop in front of a squat brick building on the outskirts of town. Dad ’ s car was already parked in front, and he came rushing out of the door as soon as he saw Mom pull up. 
 
 “ Is this the doctors? ” I asked. The last time we went to the doctor it had been a nice little village-type office setting, with a lawn out front and lots of toys in the waiting room. “ It doesn ’ t look like the last one. ” 
 
 “ This is a different doctors, ” Mom said, unbuckling my seat belt for me. “ It ’ s for big girls, OK? I need you to be brave. ” I nodded, and Dad picked up out of the seat and carried me inside. 
 
 There were men waiting in the lobby. They didn ’ t have a white coat like the last doctor that I ’ d visited, and they didn ’ t have a stethoscope around their necks like the last one; he ’ d let me listen to my own heartbeat. 
 They sat me down on a table. There were no animals painted on the walls, nor jars full of cotton swabs and tongue depressors. One of the men opened a big metal container and brought out a set of pliers and a flashlight. They took the bandage off of my arm, and as Mom carried it to the trash I saw black streaks across it, along with a few more spots of blood. 
 
 “ Definitely severed a good deal of the haptic controls, ” he muttered. I looked at Mom, then at Dad, for some hint of what that meant. They seemed worried. 
 
 “ Can you fix it? ” Mom asked, clutching at Dad ’ s arm. 
 
 “ Yeah, of course, ” the man grunted. Then he looked back at me. “ You ’ re gon na have to go to sleep for a little bit, Kiddo. It ’ ll all be better when you wake up, OK? We just need to do some quick repairs. ” Then he nodded to one of his companions. “ Open the access hatch, Mike. ” 
 
 The man he ’ d talked to pressed something on my neck, and my whole body went stiff. My neck felt… funny. Like something should be there, but it wasn ’ t. And everything tingled. `` Mom's what's going on?'' I tried to ask. My jaw opened and closed, but sound did n't come out. Mom made a pained grimace and had to bury her face in Dad's shoulder. 
 
 “ Will she remember it? ” Dad asked. 
 
 “ We ’ ll probably have to do a wipe, ” the man answered. “ When was your last backup? ” 
 
 Mom and Dad looked at each other, puzzled. “ Had to be at least a month ago, ” Dad said. “ I ’ ve been meaning to, I just kept forgetting. ” 
 
 Something whirred and clicked on my back as Mike continued to do something behind me. I couldn ’ t turn my head or see what was happening. “ Shutting off sensory now,'' he said. 
 
 Everything went black. I tried to touch my eyes, but my arms weren ’ t working anymore. I heard Mom ’ s sad voice: “ So she won ’ t even remember her last birthday? ” Then the sound was gone too. 
 
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