Introduction
This is a time where science and history weren't taught in school. It was seen unnecessary and irrelevant. I live in a corrupt, dystopian society. There is no hope for me. We are beyond hope. We only learn literature and mathematics. They are the only subjects that matter. And when we're not in school, we are working, we are functioning as a one, working as one. I don't find it helpful. Nor do I see potential. I find it an unNecessity...
Prologue
They say it wasn't important, science and history. They said we've evolved passed needing to know evolution and the mistakes of war. We are better than them, smarter than them, more important than them. That's why we don't learn history. They say we know what we need to about the world. We have nothing else that is important to us, besides us. Us and our work. That is the price we have to pay, to be "free", to be better, to be perfect. They said they taught it to teach future generations not to go to war, but we don't learn about war or ourselves. War is bad, but that's how we've evolved. It was the experiments, they made us. We live by the people we know, we don't know the people who live outside of our sections. They aren't important to us, and we aren't important to them.
We all live in a glass dome. In the middle is where they live, the supporters. They protect us, they receive our gratitude, our gifts. We're forced to hand them over. Once at the end of each quarter, they come to take what they think is theirs. They say they give us more than we give them. They say we should be happy that they take so little. The Supporters appear nice, they act nice, they aren't nice. If you get in their way, they take you, and you won't return. Nobody has, and nobody knows. Everybody learns though. The end of the Quarter is coming up, and we have yet to reach the amount of gifts we need to give them. I'm scared for us, what they might do: If they will take us, would we come back? I don't know what would happen. Torture? What if we run? Yeah, take what we can and escape their claws, grasping out to take us prisoner. Could we fight them? No, they're too powerful, too many people on their side, and much more experience.Then again, they are in the center, we could destroy them. What if they are prepared though? I guess there is only one way to find out, and I'm thinking I don't want to.
My family makes clothes. We hadveto recycle old clothes, recycle rags, recycle memories. And they want us to turn around and give them away? It's not fair, but to them? More than generous. As the amount of rags they give us each quarter decrease increasingly, I don't think it's right. This work? I don't believe it to be a necessity, I find it an unNecessity...
We all live in a glass dome. In the middle is where they live, the supporters. They protect us, they receive our gratitude, our gifts. We're forced to hand them over. Once at the end of each quarter, they come to take what they think is theirs. They say they give us more than we give them. They say we should be happy that they take so little. The Supporters appear nice, they act nice, they aren't nice. If you get in their way, they take you, and you won't return. Nobody has, and nobody knows. Everybody learns though. The end of the Quarter is coming up, and we have yet to reach the amount of gifts we need to give them. I'm scared for us, what they might do: If they will take us, would we come back? I don't know what would happen. Torture? What if we run? Yeah, take what we can and escape their claws, grasping out to take us prisoner. Could we fight them? No, they're too powerful, too many people on their side, and much more experience.Then again, they are in the center, we could destroy them. What if they are prepared though? I guess there is only one way to find out, and I'm thinking I don't want to.
My family makes clothes. We hadveto recycle old clothes, recycle rags, recycle memories. And they want us to turn around and give them away? It's not fair, but to them? More than generous. As the amount of rags they give us each quarter decrease increasingly, I don't think it's right. This work? I don't believe it to be a necessity, I find it an unNecessity...
Chapter 1-1: Part 1
I wake up screaming, a banshee in the foggy night. My mom comes rushing in, barging through the blue, circular bead that hang from the moldy, deforming top of my door frame. I sit up on my bed, I must have had quite the nightmare because my bed sheets were all jumbled up in a ball. It looked like 50 shades of brown. The sheets concealed my torso down, trapping my legs, not allowing any light escape its dark clutches. My mom comes over and gives me a hug, I hug her back. A tear slides down my face, wet and warm, taking any dirt in its path, leaving a shiny trail behind. "It happened again, I saw it." My voice cracked halfway through my sentence.
"It's okay, don't worry about it, everything will be fine. We're almost done making the clothes." Her voice was so comforting, so soothing. It always calms me. How could I not trust her?
"Are you sure?" I questioned her, unsure if she was actually tell the truth. She nodded her head and smiled at me. I gave her one more hug and she got up. I watched her walk across my room. She walked across my tattered rug, over my cold cement floor, and turned by one more time to say she loved me and walked through the curtain of beads. Her wavy, golden hair flowed behind her until the beads settle back into place, concealing me from the outside world. I laid down, rolled over, closed my eyes, and thought...
"It's okay, don't worry about it, everything will be fine. We're almost done making the clothes." Her voice was so comforting, so soothing. It always calms me. How could I not trust her?
"Are you sure?" I questioned her, unsure if she was actually tell the truth. She nodded her head and smiled at me. I gave her one more hug and she got up. I watched her walk across my room. She walked across my tattered rug, over my cold cement floor, and turned by one more time to say she loved me and walked through the curtain of beads. Her wavy, golden hair flowed behind her until the beads settle back into place, concealing me from the outside world. I laid down, rolled over, closed my eyes, and thought...
Chapter 1-1: Part 2
I had had the dreams since last quarter. A family didn't complete the amount of clothes they needed to in time. The father had tried to negotiate with the Supporter who came to collect. The Supporter wasn't in the mood to pity and forgive, though. He told the father to come with him, but he neglected, unsure if he would come back. The Supporter gave him a second warning, still he didn't follow. The Supporter grabbed his arm and yanked him toward the large truck. The father fought back, but it was a losing battle. His wife and children were watch. Watching the horrible fight that was going on, and their loving family member was being beaten up. More Supporters came to restrain the man, and then tried to knock him out, the children were crying, their faces as red as roses. The mother trying to help her poor husband, but one of the Supporters came and restrained her from helping her love. The fathers nose was now bloody; bruises and cuts lined his body. A few minutes later, they dragged his limp body into a truck. They escorted the stunned and broken rest of the family into another vehicle. One Supporter stayed back and continued with the route like nothing happened. The next day we were given care packages saying they were sorry for what happened yesterday and said it was only an emergency practice attack. They said no harm came to the family and that everybody is safe. I highly doubt that, though. I haven't the family since they were taken away. That makes me even more scared. I dream of that happening to my family, but I don't want to. I love my family, I will not let them go, even if it means taking me...
Chapter 1-1: Bonus Section
I hear my mom say something quietly to my father, my ears perk up, my eyes open wide. She sighed and they whispered some more. What are they saying?
"I just... think that... keep this... if they're out? I... that... happen." My mom's voice shaky. She looks around frantically, she hair is knotted, face sagged. She worked though the night... "But the... fabric yesterday... out... or else..." My father said something, than she went back to the sewing machine, turned it on, and kept working. I could feel the vibrations from across the house. I closed my eyes, stressed, and let the sewing machine lull me back to sleep.
"I just... think that... keep this... if they're out? I... that... happen." My mom's voice shaky. She looks around frantically, she hair is knotted, face sagged. She worked though the night... "But the... fabric yesterday... out... or else..." My father said something, than she went back to the sewing machine, turned it on, and kept working. I could feel the vibrations from across the house. I closed my eyes, stressed, and let the sewing machine lull me back to sleep.
Chapter 1-2: Part 1
My hair is snarled when I awaken from my sleep like one large, oblong knot. My face tense and flaky from my overnight drooling. I sit up, my legs over the side of the couch. My blood rushes from my head nauseating me momentarily. I stand up and toddle my way across my room. I trip on a string of blue beads that fell off of my door sill. In attempt to catch myself, I grasp the door frame. My hands unable to get a grip, I fall to my knees. I'm too weak to stand back up, so I just sit there for a second. The floor is cold, hard, and filthy. After a few minutes, I attempt to stand up again and make my way back on my feet successfully. I look over at the sewing machine, mom isn't there. They probably went to get more materials. Peering into my sister's room, I find an empty bed. Assuming she probably went with my parents, I make my way to the kitchen. My stomach screams in hunger. Light pours though the broken blinds covering the window. I find the single cabinet we have, no cereal. Just evaporated milk, rice, and a can of beans occupy the lonely, dusty space. I look into the fridge, the light bulb is burnt out, I go to the closet to find a new one. The closet door squeaks open, but unable to supply me a light bulb. Signing, I go back to the fridge. A loaf of bread, an apple, carrots, and a green liquid find home in the fridge. I pick up the apple and take a bite out of it. The apple didn't crunch. Looking at the inside of the apple, I find it's dark brown. I gag at the sight and toss it out. It would have been a healthy food choice a few months ago... I go to grab a handful of carrots and take them to the front room. I sit on the couch, dust shoot up from the cushion, and turn on the TV.
Chapter 1-2: Part 2
With the end of the Quarter coming to a close tomorrow, many people are working frantically to fulfill their tasks by dawn. Markets are crowded as many people scavenge for any scraps they can find to complete the orders the Supporters have demanded of the people. Just under an hour ago, a fight broke out between two groups of people over what they believe that they had possession over first. Two civilians were severely injured after a civilian to our a needle and started stabbing them. Many bystanders attempted to break up this fight, but it soon turned into a brawl. A group of supporters were sent out to separate and end the fighting. They are working to do so as we speak. We will bring you further news as this story develops...
Chapter 1-2: Part 3
Is my family there? Are they safe, or were they part of the brawl? No. I can't think like that, they're okay. They're on their way home right now. I bet they will walk through the door any second. I'm starting to panic, I don't want to think of the consequences. I just want to see them again. I'm wanting to curl up in a ball. I want to cry. I want to be alone, but still feel comforted...
What if they got taken by the supporters?
What if they were the ones that got stabbed?
What if they got in trouble?
What if I never see them again...
What if they got taken by the supporters?
What if they were the ones that got stabbed?
What if they got in trouble?
What if I never see them again...
Chapter 1-3
I lay on the bed, sniffling my tears away for what feels like hours. It's starting to get darker out. I walk past the entry hallway and see a piece neon paper on the phone. It reads 'Went to the market. Be back by 6'. There is still a chance that they weren't taken, right? It's only 5:30, maybe they're on their way back now. I take a sigh of relief. Maybe a short walk will help me clear my mind. That will calm me. In case they come back when I'm gone, I wrote a note on the other side of the paper. 'Went for a walk, be back soon'. After I finished writing the note, I heard a knock on the door. Looking towards the door, I move slowly, wondering who it is. The door's unlocked, so it can be my parents. My friends usually just stand there screaming at the door until I answer. So who could it be? My hand rests extended at the doorknob, waiting for my brain to signal it to twist. I open the door, I can only see a shadow of the figure that awaits me.
"Hello Miss. Are you Lynn Fields?" The man sounds nice. Almost sympathetic.
Almost too afraid to respond, I answer, "Yes."
"Would it be at all possible for you to come with me?" His mood has yet to change, and his hand now extends to take me away.
"Why," I stumble on the words. "Why should I come with you?"
"Your family has requested your presence."
There it is. There is the word I dreaded to hear from him. Family. At this I bolt past him, past his truck, and onto the road. I can tell now he is a Supporter. I've never liked them, and now I have a reason to fear them. They have my family. I turn around to see if he's pursuing me, yet he's not. The Supporter is just standing at the door. He stands there watching me.
"Hello Miss. Are you Lynn Fields?" The man sounds nice. Almost sympathetic.
Almost too afraid to respond, I answer, "Yes."
"Would it be at all possible for you to come with me?" His mood has yet to change, and his hand now extends to take me away.
"Why," I stumble on the words. "Why should I come with you?"
"Your family has requested your presence."
There it is. There is the word I dreaded to hear from him. Family. At this I bolt past him, past his truck, and onto the road. I can tell now he is a Supporter. I've never liked them, and now I have a reason to fear them. They have my family. I turn around to see if he's pursuing me, yet he's not. The Supporter is just standing at the door. He stands there watching me.
chapter 1-4
Coming soon...