What If...

"Mom, What if I took off my tracker bracelet?" Elaen asked as she scratched at the hair's bredth line that she knew was where the bracelet opened.
"You'd get lost, honey" Her mother replied as she passed vegatables under the refrigerator's food ID, "And worse."
"But what did they do before tracker bracelets?"
"What do you mean?" She paused, celery halfway under the scanner. It beeped "Incomplete scan" and she pushed the celery the rest of the way under.
"People didn't always have tracker bracelets, Mom. They couldn't have"
Her mother's eyes glazed over. "Tracker bracelets are so wonderful They keep track of how many calories we consume. They get us where we need to go. They work as IDs and constantly check us for diseases."
Elaen tuned her mother out. She didn't know that Elaen had already taken her tracker bracelet off. She was just fooling around with it when she heard a little metallic click and the bracelet swung open. She stared as it had clattered to the table. But she wasn't staring at it, she was staring at her wrist. The skin underneath was scarred and pinpricked. A shiver of horror had twisted down her body as she ran a finger over the gnarled mass of tissue. She carefully picked up her tracker bracelet and examined it. A needle popped out of the inside, seeking skin. She dropped the bracelet on the table again. What the --, What do I do, What do I do? Her breath quickened as she scanned the room for an idea. What the frock do I do? Her eyes alighted on a ketchup packet, sitting in the middle of the table, a remnant of last night's dinner. Without thinking, she grabbed the packet and smashed it onto the needle. Immediately, the needle retreated. Elaen snatched up the bracelet and snapped it on, ketchup and all.
Oh frock, Oh frock, Oh frock, What do I do? What have I done? What the heck is going on here? Her heart palpitated inside her chest, like a prisoner's cup being dragged across the bars. She gulped in air and slowed her breathing. It's not like I've done anything wrong, she reasoned.
Thump. Thump. Thump. She heard the slow, measured pounding on her door. She wanted to run the other way but she felt her feet taking her to the door. She forced her face into a state of composure. Then she remembered the air that was being sucked rapidly in and out of her mouth. She pursed her lips and mashed them into a smile. Maybe it's just a friend coming over. She swung the door open. Maybe not.
Two giant men in nondescript grey suits (government issued) with jet black hair (evidently dyed) and brown eyes (contacts?) stood on her porch.
"Elaen Syvaskilyn?" Oh frock.
"Yes?" The mashed up smile grew even bigger.
They hauled her into the apartment.
"Uh, my mom will be right back. If that's who your looking for. She just popped over to the grocery store. Poof, right back. Any minute, in fact any second." The words popped out in short staccato bursts.
One man pushed her into the nearest chair and slid a divider over her arm. She nearly hyperventilated. She wanted to see what they were doing to her wrist. She had to see. She felt her mashed smile sagging so she pulled it wide again.
"What's that for?" She asked in her best I'm-just-a-teen-what-do-I-know look. One of the men muttered something under his breath. She heard the click that she had heard only a few minute before and felt the slight pressured on her wrist released. She wanted to scream at the big black wall between her and her wrist.
"Ketchup packet" the second man snorted.
"What was it doing in your bracelet, honey?" The first man asked in a voice that should be used for toddlers. Evidently, dealing with teenagers was not in their manual.
"I had an itch in there and I read on the internet..." She had read what on the internet? She mind was sprinting through possiblities. "I read that ketchup would stop any chaffing or cool an itch" She finished quickly. Oh, frock what if they decided to check it out? She didn't know of any site that said that but ....
Click! The warm metal clamped around her wrist again.
"Next time, if you have an itch go to the hospital," He stared at her, in what she assumed to be one of their intimidation techniques. It worked. She lowered her head accordingly.
"Okey-Dokey!" She flashed a plastered-on smile.
And as quickly as the men had come, they left, taking the divider, but leaving her with more questions than she knew what to do with. She smashed the sleek metal against the wall. Pictures of the mottled skin were imprinted on her brain. The stinging from the metal's impact brought her to her senses. She couldn't have them come back. She couldn't let them suspect that she knew... Knew what? All she had a was a vague feeling that something was off about those tracker bracelets.
So here she was, watching her mother unload her newly bought groceries.