Trial results may not have expected results or outcomes.
I didn’t expect these kinds of results at all. Joining the clinical research study seemed like the perfect way to supplement my income. I felt their warnings of possible side effects inconsequential. But, not now!
Six weeks have passed since the study. I ate genetically modified oranges. The meaty orange segments filled me up. The scientist called the orange’s insides Endocarp or some weird term like that. I just called them delicious.
The non-disclosure forms binding us to secrecy took too long to read so I flipped to the back of the booklet and signed the agreement.
I wonder why they had us sitting in isolated cubicles? Did other participants in the study eat oranges like me?
Eating the skin and pulp changed my fruit world. The taste was so full of sweetness and crisp tang. Flavor jumped up and down on my tongue like a wild kangaroo.
Normal supermarket oranges will never be the special treat they used to be.
Weekend mornings are my favorite because I get to sleep in but I will never have another Saturday wake up like this one.
My mouth feels like it’s swollen. My head is heavy with pressure but I don’t have a headache. Itchy skin is driving me crazy.
Could I be having an allergic reaction to the wasp sting on my arm? I didn’t see the small wasp nest by my front door and one zapped me yesterday.
Lucky my bug spray shoots a 4-foot stream. I soaked those mud dauber wasps in their little mud nest good. Watching them die gave me some satisfaction and I stomped their home after it fell from my front door post.
Some icky film is covering my eyelids and lashes. It’s like glue. I can’t see very well. An orange hue is mostly what I see.
I have to rub and scratch but my skin not only itches, I feel bumps or hives everywhere. Hard to make out exactly because now orange shade is taking over my vision completely.
Laying here in my bed is comforting. If I didn’t know better I would say my body feels rounder. Having a ton of orange thoughts. Pulpy thoughts.
A strange undeniable inclination to lick my lips just washed over me. I taste sweet with a little bite of sour. The taste memory takes me back to the research oranges.
This must be some kind of deranged dream. I slap myself in the face but my hand just bounces off. Can’t take it anymore.
Gripping the material over my eyes I rip at the fiber. It’s tough and coarse. I can see again! Rolling out of bed I look in the mirror.
Becoming a permanent fixture in the scientist laboratory isn’t a bad fate. I get to watch any kind of movie or show in every format possible. They take care of me. At least my future is paid for. I’ll always have a home and be unique.