A story i am doing for a writing competion. Please R&R:)
Today I am going to die.
This is my first thought when I wake up Friday May 29 2092, which was also my birthday. But it’s not just any birthday, it’s my 30th birthday. So, according to my government, I was no longer of any use. Because according to history, the people before us would let their people live until they were old, wrinkly, useless, and would die on their own. But eventually the world over-populated and they had to be exterminated. So, to stop history from repeating itself, we all die at age 30. Well, most of us. The only people who didn’t were the rebels and the government. The government had people who were at least 10 years over 30 but were allowed to live because they had special talents and were useful. But I shouldn’t waste precious time thinking of things like that, I have good-byes to say and love to give. And need to prepare for my good-bye speech. I slip my feet out from under the mint green bed sheets, silky and cold, and slip my feet into my brand-new slippers. I pad across the dark room and almost run into my 10-year-old son, Liam, who was sleeping on my floor. Immediately I feel my throat constrict. I know that I survived losing my parents when I was even younger than him, but it still hurt to know that my baby was going to go to a cold boarding school, where there is no mom to run to when you need a hug or a daddy to run to when you need help with sports or such. I shake my head knowing that if I think about that, I may just lose my mind. I feel my way over to the bathroom and switch on the bright, fluorescent lights. I blink my eyes a few times to regain my sight then turn on the shower so its steaming and step in. I feel the scalding water run down my back and watch as my skin turns bright red from the heat. When I’m done, I towel off and put on the new clothes I was given. They’re a deep red knitted sweater dress and simple black leggings. I walk over to the door and place my hand on the cool, metal door knob. I let it set for a moment the open the door and walk off to the kitchen. Sitting on the counter is a container of coffee beans, enough for two cups. As I brew the coffee, I allow my mind to wander back to different memories. Such as when I held Liam in my arms for the first time, how he gazed at me with his little emerald eyes. The next memory to surface is my wedding. I remember how beautiful and invincible I felt as I stood there in my gown, staring into the eyes of my new husband. Next is when I was 8 and my mom let me have a party. The cake was so moist and luxurious, I savored every bite. Before I know, I’m bent over and sobbing harder than ever. I let myself stay that way but quiet the sobs, not wanting to wake Liam. I hear the shrill ting of the coffee maker and stand up, wiping my tears off as I make my way over to get my coffee. I pour myself a cup and take it to the table in the small, cramped living room. It’s so quiet I think I’ll go mad so I stroll over to the balcony and duck outside.
“Hey Miranda!” Calls my neighbor Anthony. He’s only 25 and has promised to look after Liam after today. “Happy birthday!”
“I suppose it could be. But thank you.” I reply. We chat for a few minutes before I retreat inside.
“Mommy, can I have a kiss?” Is the first thing I hear after closing the door.
“Yes baby, you can have a million,” I choke out. He scampers over to me and I give him a kiss. I take his hand and lead him to his room so he can change. The morning wears on and eventually it’s time to leave for the killing time. I carry the whole way there, clutching his quaking body to mine and telling him it will be okay. My younger sister, Armani, hangs onto my arm and cried hysterically. We arrive at the town square and I walk over to the line of others who’s birthday is today. I carry Liam with me, refusing to let him go. A few of his friends sprint over and hug me good-bye and attempt to comfort him. The line moves to quick and it becomes my turn. I set Liam on the ground and hug him and kiss him, telling him I love him for as long as possible before the guards make me go up. When I arrive to the stage area, I take a deep breath.
“I haven’t got much to say. I mean, what am I supposed to say? I’m dying, don’t miss me? No, I won’t lie to you all. I do want you to miss me. Not a lot, but enough that I am remembered. There are so many people I see here who I can’t stand knowing that I’m leaving. I love you all more than you will ever be able to understand. I miss you all already,” I begin my speech with this. I go on and on about how much I love them and will miss them. With each word, I feel the broken pieces of my heart flutter more and more. Not heal, but feel ready to fly.
“And when I leave you today, I want you guys to know something. You can run away with me, anytime you want.”
As soon as I finish that last word. I leap off the stage and hit the ground running. I hear the gunshots hitting the ground all around me and my stomach cramping. My calves are burning but I don’t stop, I won’t stop. After forever, I reach the edge of the city where the white van is waiting for me. I leap in and collapse in a heap on the floor of the trunk. I let myself be still while my breathing turns from panting to its normal rate. I feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins and my heart beats double time. Eventually my body is calm and I sit up. I lean forward as the driver of my get-away cars turns towards me.
“Congrats, you lived.” Smirks the ebony haired, emerald eyed 31 year old driving the car. I climb to the passenger seat and grin at him.
“Now all we have to do is get Liam, then we can be a family. And maybe after that, save lives.” I turn forward and watch the setting sun. Maybe the governments wrong, I don’t feel any weaker than I did when I was 25.