This isn't my first time.

"NEXT."

We all shuffle ahead in line. I've been standing between two other inmates for a couple hours now, and the bottom of my feet are starting to feel sore, as usual. But that's just about the only feeling I can manage. I start to zone out, just to be awoken suddenly.

"NEXT."

I don't know what it's like for everyone else with an implant, but for a while now I've been sure that I am different. They all talk like they're dodging around some bigger truth that they can't speak of, some kind of energy that they can't quite grasp, but can only describe with empty words. Like there's some part of their brain they can't access, but they're trying to. I've never understood.

"NEXT."

I know that it's supposed to be the next generation of anti-depressents. I know that it's entirely eradicated the suicide rate. And I know that it's rarely ever voluntary. But what I don't know is why everyone else with an implant has changed so much after they get them, while I've stayed much the same.

"NEXT."

So many inmates come in without them, then one day they'll say they found contraband in his room, that he attacked an officer, or that he's been a bad influence on the other inmates. The next day, bam. They slap him with an implant. The guy always changes so much in one day, like he's a whole new person. A more cooperative person.

"NEXT."

I'm at the front of the line now. Directly in front of me, two automatic doors close behind the stranger. A worn-out sign comes together as they touch, "2 MINUTE MAXIMUM".

Above my head, the bright blue neon Neuron logo buzzes, accompanied by the sign: INMATE EMOTION CHAMBER.

I can hear the back doors open and the scuttle of the other patron exiting.

"NEXT".

This is it. Maybe this time will be better.

I step inside and feel a small zap as the implant is turned off.

Here, I'm allowed to feel. For 2 uninterrupted minutes, I'm allowed to be free of this emotion block that's been installed in my head since I was arrested. I'm allowed to run through my mind and feel any kind of happy, sad, angry...

But nothing comes.

Just the same as last time, and every time before. I cannot feel. I have never felt, I suspect. I cannot recall, as this chamber doesn't turn off the memory blocker, just the emotion blocker.

Every time I come here, this is the result. I feel the same. I know my implant was government mandated, and I know I was sentenced for a violent crime, but I do not know the details. I can't recall any emotion, nor any memory outside these walls.

But even thinking about those words, "violent crime"... is that supposed to evoke some sort of reaction? Am I supposed to feel guilt? Shame? Disgust? All these words I've read about, but never fully understood. My inital hypothesis is proven right every session–I have no ability to feel emotions, with or without the blocker–but this answer is only sparking new questions.

"YOUR TIME IS UP. YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS TO LEAVE THE CHAMBER. NINE. EIGHT..."

It will have to wait until next week.

"NEXT."