It is time.

The genetic analysis machine clicks and blips next to you as you lay there, strapped rigidly to the hospital bed. Hospital seems like such a wonderful place to be right now. Maybe there you would have someone a little less clinical to talk to you.

You're eighteen years old now, but only look a day older than twelve seeing as you've never actually been through puberty. The sheet beneath you sticks to your sweat-sheened back as you lay naked looking up into the harsh white light of the fluorescent bulb above your bed. Each month you are strapped up to this machine and each time you really do not want to hear response. A no just means yet another month of waiting and the ever-looming yes just rings like a funeral bell in your head.

Next to you, Amanda sits in her usual seat. She has been the only one friendly enough here to actually learn your real name, talk with you and to spend her free hours socializing with. You are ever thankful for this company but can never feel totally at rest with her.

She is now twenty-two, in full bloom and very very pretty in your eyes. Her breasts are fully developed, her hips are curvy and her face has matured into that of a young woman. You like to feel her toy with your hair, but each time, the same pang of insecurity fills your mind.

You may be only four years younger than her, but your body is still where it was eight years ago. Oh how you would love to be by her side, but alas, you are subjected to the torment of having to listen to her endearing voice merely calling you Anon, rather than 'honey' or 'darling'.

You're just being silly, you know that. But a boy can dream, no?

The form of Doctor Matthus appears to your left. His eyes light up as he studies the screen on the analyser. He calls for his colleagues before resting his seemingly alien hand on your shoulder. The first time he as ever touched you without a medical reason.

"It is time..." He says triumphantly.