Testing Vickie

Chapter Four

I stood there as I always did, the library’s grandeur before me. Running up the stairs, I push the groaning doors and enter the deathly quiet library. Now that everything is modernised there’s no need for librarians and so there is no one in the library. I jog up the stairs to the third and highest floor, each step echoing like a drumbeat until I get to the top. I guide my way to the TEST section and see the billions of books of people that are alive and have passed their TEST. I look for Mums, hoping to find guidance in hers but all I found was how she managed to kill a spider and save someone’s life, very inspirational. I walk past the empty books and see my name on the spine of one. I’m tempted to take it, but instead I start the search for Dad’s, maybe his will have some answers.

Damn, he did some pretty good stuff. He qualified for the 2016 summer Olympics, covered a celebrity scandal and ooh, hosted an award show. He probably had great scenarios to work with then. I’m tempted to look at the section that illustrates what happened after their TEST’s but remember the time. I think of what I have and what I need to do about it. All I’ve got is everyone’s forgotten memories. Easy then right? Become a celebrity… BAHAHAH me? A celebrity!? Only in my dreams. But isn’t this kind of a dream? I can do whatever the hell I want here with no repercussions in my world. But how does one become famous? I’ve got a whole library and 10 hours to become famous. Thankfully, I’ve got the whole library.

I go down to the second floor and start the search for promising titles. How to be Famous Overnight, How to achieve Fame: For Dummies, 12 Steps to Becoming a Celebrity. They all sound like good places to start.

30 minutes later after my eyes feel like they’re going to fall out of their sockets, I finally hatch out a plan. I’m going to do something drastic online that will gain a major online presence, then use that to tell everyone who I am and prove to Mum and Oli that I’m their daughter and sister and Ana that I’m her best friend. But what is something drastic? Falling off a cliff and surviving? Mmmnah, too high of a chance of death. Vandalise the whole city? Criminal activity does not sound appealing. Being a model… That sounds stupid. But, there’s a company down the street. Minor criminal activity wouldn’t hurt… Would it?

I rush out of the library, glancing at the clock on the right side of the corridor. Eight hours. I was in the library for TWO HOURS? I really need to get a move on. I run out and shiver. God it’s cold. There’s no time to find a jumper so I just run into the night. Warm lights float past as I run past them in the street. Then suddenly, I don’t feel cold, the tattoo, it remains the same colour but now it burns. Like how it was when I got here. Without warning, cold white light flashes and the he appears again. The glowing blonde hair person appears again. “Who are you?” I say immediately. It’s always good to know someone’s name.

“I am Michael. You have six hours left.”

“No no no! I have eight hours. You told me four hours ag-” I sputter

“You cheated. You are not supposed to see your book.” He is so monotonic in the way he speaks. Ugh.

“No I didn’t, I passed it when I was trying to figure out how the hell I get out of here.”

“You almost looked at your book. You intended to.”

“BUT I didn’t. There’s a difference.”

“That is why this is your warning. Do not make this happen again or more time will be taken off.”

And with that he disappears. Ass. Has he done this before? Who is he? Maybe I should break more rules and drag him here to talk to him.

And I went off task. How to be famous! Walk down the street. Turn left at the intersection to the main road and go straight for the Ghanda studio. I don’t have bobby pins, there goes picking the lock. I stare at the building, post boxes with pot plants on the side. In there. The key might be in the post box. People do that right? I mean, it’s close to the plants. The same way the hut’s key is. I palm through the cold box and feel something rough with grooves on a long side. Perfect. A key! I extract it out and unlock the door. Open sesame. Opening up a world of power. Bahahah, yeah right. Thank the good Lord they label where everything is in buildings. It literally says, photography studio left, dead ahead and the soc. meds. Left then 2nd left again. How helpful. I nip into the photography studio and take a look at myself in the mirror that is immediately at the door. I look decent enough. Not that it matters. I flick on a light that’s on my right and the studio lights up. It looks like someone didn’t pack up properly. Lucky for them, lucky for me I guess. I go to turn the camera on and it says no S.D card. Ok, maybe they did pack up. I walk to the table against the wall and rummage through the boxes. Lenses, ooh chocolate! And yes! The S.D cards! I take one, hoping there’s nothing on it and push it into the camera. It lights up again, recognising the storage. There’s no photos on it! Great! Yay for quick solutions. Everything is set and I find a stool and for a portrait style photo. The camera blinks, once, twice, thrice, four times, five quick flashes then blinding white light. I hope I didn’t blink. I review the photo, my face slightly blank and vacant. I should do a fun nice one. I move the camera further back and set the time again. The camera blinks, once, twice as I run to the stool. Four times, five times, cute pose, smile, look happy in the eyes, quick flashes then blinding light.

That really took an hour? No way. One hour to take two photos. I eject the S.D card and flick all the lights off. No one will notice I was there. Except if they count the chocolate. I rush down the hall to where the social media room was. It is such a small room! There three computers, two phones and three tablet devices all on a table, a sofa, desk and desk chair and that’s it. I put the S.D card in a computer and it’s locked. Crap. I’m gonna waste more time looking for a password!

I run down to the reception and search through all the drawers. Paperclips, maps, job application forms, forms regarding new shipments of supplies and condoms? Nothing about usernames and passwords though. I take a map and find the I.T department located down the hall on the right. I hurry down and hear a soft hum from the tangled assortment of wires and systems. In the corner, a small cramped desk. I rush too it and fall on my face.

I hurtle down and fall onto a small nest like structure of wires, except they poke in really awkward places. I clamber out, only to fall again. On my ass. This time I try crawling. It seems to work better, I walk cautiously to the desk and search the drawers.

There’s nothing in them! Absolutely nothing. Not one thing. Only air. Helpful. I search the desk, under wires, laptops and keyboards until I see a slip of a yellow sticky note.

System login

username: team.g

password: ghandaprod.7492

PERFECT! Finally. Only took me; I glance up at the clock. An hour!? I, no. I have four hours?! Surely things don’t go viral in a span of less than four hours? I have to take a chance.

I rush to the soc. meds room and log in. A blast of notifications pop up on the screen. I locate the photos and upload them. Twitter, i********:, f*******:, the official Ghanda website. I do it all. Now all I can do is wait.