Marked

by Stephanie Arehart

  “Come on, Vivian, let’s show off our marks!” Jenna poured on the enthusiasm.

  Vivian recoiled at Jenna’s command, before begrudgingly conceding. Following several poses and retakes, which Jenna convincingly blamed on her need to look perfect, she finally had a picture with a decent view of Vivian’s so-called medical mark. Jenna thanked her and sat down on her bed, going through her class schedule for the next day. Realizing she had an early and packed day ahead of her, she gathered her shower supplies and shuffled out the door to the shared bathroom for their floor. Of course, Vivian declined an invitation to walk down with her.

  I wonder how long it’ll take her to learn where the bathroom is. Maybe she just pees outside like a wild animal.

  After a nice, relaxing shower, Jenna stepped into her fluffy pink robe. Not sure how long it would take her to get used to public showers, she was glad that she’d chosen a period of low traffic in the area for her first time. When she was finished, it was too steamy to see anything in the mirrors, so she decided to return to her room to brush her hair and get dressed for bed. As she opened her dorm room door, she saw scurrying movements from her desk area back to Vivian’s side. Jenna was thoroughly confused about why Vivian would be getting into her nice things, since she obviously wasn’t a materialistic person.

  “Now who’s the one creeping?” Jenna asked.

  Though Jenna was trying to lighten the awkward mood she’d created with her bluntness, Vivian didn’t laugh or respond in any way at all. She sat back down on her own bed in silence, but Jenna couldn’t tell if she was angry or sad or what. After shutting the door behind her, Jenna looked over and saw the crumpled paper. It was still on the desk, but clearly moved from where she’d left it. Vivian’s aura screamed with agitation.

  “Why are you getting into all that Mark stuff? Isn’t it good enough that you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth?” Vivian asked.

  Jenna stared in silence.

  Vivian continued, “May I politely suggest you keep your nose out of other people’s business?”

  “I just wanted to learn more about it, and the professor mentioned it today. I’m not sure if you heard or were napping at the time, but I just always wondered how it works, why I was chosen to be a doctor. It’s not a big deal, just personal stuff.”

  “Yeah, well, if you’re thinking of contacting that place, I’d think twice. They aren’t good people.”

  Vivian’s defensive reaction raised the hairs on Jenna’s arms. She felt anger building deep inside. “Now who needs to mind her own business? And how would you even know that?”

  Vivian stared down at her lap, so Jenna continued in a softer tone. “I’m not contacting anyone, okay? I was just reading what they have to say on their website. No harm in learning. Knowledge is power, after all.”

  Vivian’s bizarre reaction only served to strengthen Jenna’s suspicions, thus making her even more resolute to get to the bottom of things. That night, they both seemed to sleep a little better than the first night. Maybe they were already getting more comfortable with each other, or maybe they were just exhausted from being on edge for so long.

  The next morning, Vivian repeated her strange sunup routine of rolling right out of bed and straight out the door. Jenna marveled at her roommate’s ability to ignore what others thought of her, though she did wonder if and when Vivian bathed and changed clothes, because she was wearing something different from the previous day. Jenna’s mind went wild with possibilities.

  Maybe she has another home where she keeps all her real stuff. Maybe she isn’t even supposed to be my roommate. Surely someone would have contacted me if my legitimate roommate had been the one that was murdered, right?

  With the mysterious Vivian gone for the day, Jenna felt comfortable and even eager to submit the photo for analysis. She quickly logged on and found the site again, clicking the link to upload the image and entering Ramona’s legal name. Even with all the promises of anonymity, she still feared possible incrimination. She deleted the first uploaded image, opting to crop out the faces and bodies so that their two necks were the only visible parts. Then she uploaded the revised version. After pausing a few seconds with her finger hovering over the Submit key, she finally bit the bullet and pressed it. Without waiting for confirmation, she shut the laptop and left for her classes.

  The second day of school was a completely different set of classes with some new faces, yet it already seemed familiar to her. Though she was anxious to get the results from her undercover birthmark sting operation, Jenna wasn’t exactly sure how she’d handle it if the results came back validating that Vivian was a phony.

  She couldn’t determine what a smart person would do with that information. The only people Jenna fully trusted were her parents, but she wasn’t confident that they’d believe her or want to get involved. Knowing them, they’d totally overreact and show up to remove her from school. They’d shown a tendency to be overprotective in the past, but she knew she would have to tell someone to avoid being lumped in with Vivian’s misdoings. Jenna innately feared the police more than anything, even if she herself had done nothing wrong. And Judy had always coached Jenna to keep distance from others, to avoid even a hint of trouble.

  All these years of being a good girl have created a terribly timid Jenna.

  She wasn’t entirely sure that having a fake birthmark would be enough to result in Vivian’s arrest and removal from her life, and she certainly didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that girl’s retaliation. Clearly she needed to find a way to find out if Vivian was directly connected to the murder. With proper evidence, they’d lock her up forever. That would leave Jenna to get a new roommate so she could finally have the friend she’d wanted for so long. She giggled. Everything will work out perfectly, if Vivian is a murderer.

  After scouring the Internet for an hour, she could find nothing about the campus crime past the vague initial report. The victim was never officially identified in any news reports in print, and there was no other mention of the incident in campus communications. Since her search wasn’t producing any results, Jenna decided to push those problems out of her mind, to focus on classes until she received the authenticity findings. Operating in typical Jenna fashion, she elected the scientific approach to wait and deal with known facts. As Jenna enjoyed the scenic walk back to her dorm, she felt a familiar buzz in her pocket. Assuming it was just her mother checking in on her, she took her time answering the phone so as not to appear needy. The last thing she wanted to do was unnecessarily alarm her mother. Without looking, she answered cheerfully. “Hey!”

  “Ms. Andrews?”

  Confused by this unknown male voice, she paused in silence.

  “Ms. Andrews?” he asked again.

  “Yes, this is Ms. Andrews,” Jenna answered cautiously.

  “Yes, good day. My name is Gerald Woodall. I’m calling about your mark analysis.”

  “Oh, yes. I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon,” she responded.

  She remembered that she hadn’t provided any contact information, which confused and scared her, but she decided to play along. Her goal was to determine if this man was legitimate or not. Of course, his level of credibility was amplified by his ability to find Jenna so easily.

  “I do have some results that I want to share with you. And I’d really love to get more information, if possible,” Mr. Woodall said.

  “Okay. I’m eager to hear what you discovered, and happy to help in any way I can,” Jenna replied in her typical can-do voice.

  Mr. Woodwall’s tone sounded very serious, “First, I can confirm with 100% certainty that the mark you provided is not authentic.”

  With that, Jenna felt all the blood drain from her extremities, which left her feeling faint. She staggered back and decided to sit on the ground right where she was, mainly to prevent a fall. The phone started to slip away just as she heard the voice again.

  “Ms. Andrews? Are you still there?”

  “Ye
s, I’m here. I’m just kind of surprised.” Jenna gathered herself and continued, “I don’t know what to think, or what to do. You can really tell for sure, just from a picture?”

  “We have very sophisticated equipment, Ms. Andrews. Our next step is to open an investigation to obtain more information. Do you think you can keep an eye on Ramona? Let us know if she does anything unusual, especially if it looks like she may be going somewhere.”

  “I’m not sure about that. I mean, isn’t she dangerous?” Jenna probed.

  Again, Mr. Woodall’s tone indicated the serious nature of their conversation. “We don’t know. Based on what we’ve surmised thus far, there’s no reason to think so. Do you think you might be able to have her contact us, if I provide a phone number?”

  Jenna almost dropped the phone from laughing.

  “I can confirm with 100% certainty that there’s no way Ramona is going to contact you. She was already freaked out that I was talking to you guys, and she’s clearly trying to do something shady with this fake birthmark. I’m not up for any undercover operation, either. Frankly, she scares the bejesus out of me. Can’t you just come get her and arrest her for something, to hold her until you know for sure?”

  “That’s not exactly how we work, Ms. Andrews.”

  Jenna could feel her blood pressure rising with every second of their conversation. She couldn’t understand why the Mark Registry even existed, if people could deliberately circumvent it without any consequence at all. The entire system she grew up trusting was proving to be nothing more than a sham. Despite the questionable legitimacy of the Registry, Jenna still vehemently feared the wrath of her roommate if she were ever to learn that Jenna reported her. The mental image of an enraged Vivian was too much to handle.

  “Can I change my mind and make this inquiry anonymous? That was an option when I looked online. I thought I chose that—”

  “You aren’t in any trouble. No one’s going to identify you as the initiator,” he calmly replied.

  “So she isn’t going to find out I turned her in? I mean, are you going to try to contact her yourself? I think I deserve to know if I’m going to be in danger.”

  “Ms. Andrews, we don’t plan on communicating directly with the subject. As I mentioned, we’re going to launch a full investigation to determine who she really is, as well as why she altered her mark. Then we’ll make a recommendation on how to handle the situation. Until then, I advise you just to sit tight and act as normal as possible.”

  Jenna thanked him and hung up, continuing to literally sit tight. She stayed on the ground for several more minutes, deeply regretting her rash actions. And even though she’d felt so strongly that something was off with Vivian from the very beginning, this confirmation still rocked her to the core.

  Somehow, she’d need to gather the strength to make it back to her room, and then put on one heck of an act until someone could come and extract Vivian from her life for good. But if anyone could pull it off, it was Jenna. Jenna succeeded at everything she ever tried.

  Chapter 3

  The rest of the way back to the dorm, all Jenna could think about was how small that room was and how miserable it was going to be living there with her lying roommate. Jenna had never been tested with keeping a secret from anyone, much less someone she was living with.

  She racked her brain, trying to think of a good excuse to request a room switch, but nothing worthy came to mind. Then another thought occurred to her. She didn’t need to change rooms to get away from Vivian. She just needed to spend as little time there as possible until this issue resolved itself.

  Vivian won’t be around much longer.

  Jenna’s original plan was to return to her room and continue her research on her laptop. But under the circumstances, she decided that a good alternative would be to go to the library instead, where she wouldn’t have to worry about Vivian, or Ramona, or whatever her name was. So she reversed her direction, and headed to the campus library.

  Inside the antiquated building, it was quiet as expected, but also cool and dimly lit. Jenna wondered when libraries would cease to exist. Everything could be found on the Internet, yet she found herself in need of this seemingly abandoned relic of a facility.

  Maybe I could just sleep here until Vivian’s gone.

  Jenna shook all thoughts of the imposter from her brain and went to work on the task at hand. The library was beautiful, but also had a pungent odor. It was overpowering and musky, like Jenna imagined Professor Mumbler’s house probably smelled. It was as if she was aromatically drenched in thousands of pages older than she was. Books that had been touched by countless hands, hands belonging to those on a quest for knowledge. Quests undoubtedly more important than investigating a poser.

  Jenna questioned how many other medical marks had come through the library before her; if anyone else had used the same books before the Mark Theory. People without the benefit of the mark, who wanted to become great doctors. She giggled out loud at the thought of such a ridiculous time in society. That approach had to have been very chaotic, people just assuming any profession that they chose. As she heard the sound of her own laughter and the echoing that followed, she felt alone in the enormous old building.

  A quick check of her phone let her know it was already well past dinner time, yet no one had called or left messages, leaving her with no other excuses for procrastinating. Jenna methodically roamed around, gathering some books and delving into research on the Mark Registry.

  Since the University of Virginia was the alma mater of the Mark Registry’s founding father, there was no shortage of information. Dr. Joseph Hines was a scientist and psychologist, among other things; a rare mix of a factual thinker combined with a passionate learner, seeking to know more about the human condition.

  Dr. Hines spent his early years traveling the world, gaining as much knowledge as he could from people of different cultures and religions. He was most fascinated with the intersection of religions and various theories regarding life and death and the afterlife. After dedicating his entire life to the pursuit of proving reincarnation, he came across interesting research in the niche field of recurring birthmarks. He was essentially able to prove that birthmarks were connected to personality traits and characteristics, a key indicator of behavioral tendencies.

  He focused the next twenty years of his life on the study of recurring birthmarks, reincarnation, and predetermination. Just after his death, his colleagues presented the culmination of his work to the Department of Labor, creating a case for what would become the Mark Registry. The government moved quickly to enact legislation that dramatically overhauled the entire jobs market.

  First, the Department of Labor shifted the economy to an interim form of socialism; then they adapted to the Registry system through job assignments. At some point, they even made a move to implement similar marriage laws based on the Mark Theory, but it was quickly defeated. According to heavy documentation, people resisted the labor legislation heavily at first, but eventually accepted it, and the rest was history, Mark history. After the short-lived Mark Revolution, things fell into place and were set in stone before Jenna was even born.

  Dr. Hines most certainly had no idea how dramatically his work would change the world, or so permanently. Within a single generation, every person in the civilized world was required to get an annual examination for birthmarks and be registered into a single database, the Mark Registry. Those without any birthmarks at all were given more flexibility, though monitored closely. Blank canvases, as they were called, could set their own paths, but were generally considered lesser-than by the marked population. Recreational tattoos became taboo. People went from wasting the first eighteen to thirty years of their lives, trying to decide what to study and what profession to enter, to following a predetermined path.

  For the most part, the system seemed to be working. Unemployment was virtually non-existent, and people were happy with their lives. The world had become almost perfect, just by putting
the right mix of people in jobs that suited them and yielded true occupational satisfaction.

  Yet even in this job-related utopia, few people were as lucky as Jenna, being born into a top-tier profession like healthcare. Because of the gift she’d been given at birth, all she had to do was get through a few years of school and training, which should come easily for anyone with the certified predisposition to practice medicine. Like many others, Jenna viewed it as a blessing to be relieved of the burden of decisions, especially ones of such significant weight. Of course, she did still have the freedom to select her specialty, so there were minor decisions to be made. It would come to her along the journey; at least, that was what she’d been told.

  Though she’d always supported and believed in the Mark Theory, Jenna had also been a bundle of questions growing up, constantly bombarding her parents, her teachers, anyone that would listen. Of course, her teachers viewed it as further evidence that she was born to be a doctor, with such an inquisitive and energetic mind. But in her current situation, she felt more like she was destined to be a detective as she pored through the books, looking for more answers. Learning was like a drug for her, and she’d been addicted for as long as she could remember.

  Jenna’s mind raced so erratically that she couldn’t focus on any one topic for long, leading her to become frustrated at her own lack of progress. Pulling from her father’s bag of “coping skills” tricks, she decided to get up and take a break, casually strolling around the ancient library as she began to clear her mind. The library was amazing, and she made a mental note to come back later, when she had more time and could browse more pleasant topics such as English literature. Jenna loved a good work of fiction.

  A muffled sound caught her attention, causing her to freeze in her tracks. And she heard it again, though she couldn’t easily identify what it was. It sounded like it came from the other side of the same room. Jenna could feel her heart race faster, but she tried to relax through more self-talk. She knew she was in a public place, so there was no rational reason to be anxious about others being there too. Logic wasn’t helping much, but she kept trying anyway.