Detached

Everything’s different even though it feels the same. Unfortunately, it’s not; an odd reflection really. Nothing is out of place or eerily abnormal and they made sure of that once we had to start again. The streets have been cleansed, washed over, erasing the lives that were destroyed. Bricked houses line the newly paved roads, perfected by the fam’s that inhabit them, each one embodying three members of the same blood, so different kinds don't ever mix. They all possess striking similarities from where they first started – same skin, same tone – almost having the same lineage but never the same customs. Love doesn’t exist here, nor anywhere for that matter.

My real family is a little different. You see, my dad wasn't around much during The Before, so it was always just my little brother, papa (his dad), mama, and I. Fortunately enough for them, deep shades of chestnut bond them to the same house. But me? I’ve been probed and prodded into a new one, washed out by the essence of blonde hair, resembling my own kind. I’ve been housed with people I don’t know posing as parental figures, remaining aesthetically pleasing to the eye.

We know nothing of each other past the striking similarities of our exterior, so most days we don’t speak. And I prefer it over accidentally expressing the feelings I’m not supposed to have; an unspoken rule amongst everyone. Even something as small as a comforting embrace is no longer allowed because there's too much feeling in that. Instead, we detach from them all – happiness, sadness, even anger. We keep to ourselves, away from the neighboring houses in fear of accidentally expressing the ‘weakness’ of emotions, because if we do, the whole house is in danger. Only logic and facts hold weight, and the heaviness of their rule replace our humanity along with it.

Weakening each thought out of my mind, I focus in on the time waiting for the clock to strike twelve. With the sun almost reaching its peak, I know it’s time to take my walk before the scorch takes the rest of my energy. But also, I need to see him.

Quietly, I replace my night garments suitable for ones of the day and make my way down the stairwell before I’m stopped. Slipping on my sneakers, I remember my token of love is in plain sight, sitting on my dresser. We weren’t allowed to bring anything with us from The Before, but I risked it, smuggling the only thing that comforts me while I’m away from my family. Frantically running back upstairs, I'm jolted by the sight of the mother. Looking at me quizzically, she shames me without a single word.

“In a rush?” implying judgment.

“No,” replying immediately, “just going out for a stroll,” I say passing her at the top of the steps.

Darting into my room I grab my locket before she notices and tuck it away in the safe depths of my pocket.

“Well don’t stay out too long!” yelling in my direction, “we have plans to readjust in a few,” lecturing through her thinned patience.

Walking back into view, I lean against the metal frame of my door, standing there, waiting for some sort of authoritative continuation.

“Understood. Anything else?” I say audibly annoyed, slowly losing my composure.

She eyes my hand, still hidden from the fabric of my jeans, but says nothing. She doesn’t care. Shit, she’s not allowed. Honestly, I think she’s just too lazy to do so anyways.

“That’s all,” she finishes before turning, elegantly on one foot, switching between ball and heel, displaying remnants of her past life.

Hurrying down the stairs, once more, I fly out the door avoiding any other encounters. I stand on the porch taking in the view letting the hot wind moisten my skin. Grabbing the silk tie from my wrist I gather my curls together before placing them into a neat bun at the nape of my neck. Starting down the street I scan the walkways hoping to see him soon, so I don’t have to pass an Empathy Guard. The Empathy Guards usually stroll the grounds at a specific time of day, so I walk when they’re hidden from view. But just in case, I leave any expression or emotion tucked away inside.

I keep my eyes low, focused on the ground ahead in my attempt to stay unnoticed from any suspicious behavior. My nerves become frantic, wilder than before, thinking twice about what I'm about to do, but I keep going anyway. Shifting my gaze slowly upward, I stop instantly, seeing him - the boy. The boy with the cinnamon brown skin, freckled with drops of perspiration. His hair is neat, low cut ginger waves keeping me at bay until I'm able to move closer. My feet begin to move again while I keep my attention exclusively on him. His white tee, drenched in sweat, reveals his slim muscular physique, causing inner turmoil to erupt within. He sees me and the corner of his lips curl into a welcoming gesture. A flash of realization hits his face and his smile drops knowing what something so simple could do.

Benevolence becomes me as he walks closer and right when we reach the same distance, I free my hands from my pockets. Passing each other slowly his pinky brushes the side of my palm and I revel in the softness of his touch, silently hoping that no one saw. Wanting so badly to turn around and watch him walk away, myself control keeps me in line. Instead, I focus on the sound of his footsteps becoming more and more distant and I know our small meeting has come to an end.

Finishing my walk, I start towards the door, but I'm caught off guard by a hand on my shoulder, so heavy it knocks me off balance. Adjusting the worry off of my face, I turn slowly to see who it is. The sight of The Empathy Guard fills me with fear hoping that it doesn’t reach my eyes. It saw us! How could I be so stupid! It scans my body looking for any sign of emotion, a twelve second process, says nothing, then returns to its primary hunt for any sign of visible sentiment.

I quicken the pace and dart through the front door of my house before letting out a deep sigh. Without a second thought, I hurry towards the stairs, reaching my room before anyone can speak to me. Crashing to the floor, door locked behind me, I stare into space trying to understand what just happened. The sharp white walls cover my embarrassment of almost getting caught, but I hold onto these sentiments for the sake of being banished to The Wake. I quickly disrobe, as if that’ll help, leaving my clothes scattered on the floor. Moving towards the shower, I turn on the water, immediately lunging in before it can warm. Shocking my soul back into my body, my nerves begin to calm. I start counting the tiles on the bathroom wall finding solace in its uniformity, wishing I could possess the same attribute.

Letting my mind wander about all the events that used to take place, I contemplate on how different things would be if we didn’t deplete the earth of all its divine beauty. What if the education system wasn’t tarnished by scandals? Or what if hashtags still existed to progress our lives without someone feeling attacked by phrases that had nothing to do with them? Saddened by their foreign existence I stand under the water, silently accepting this new wave of humanity, cleansing away the silent ‘what if’s’ down the drain. I begin to think to myself that this is how it was always supposed to be - order and serenity. But I can't help but wonder if I’m just numb to it all.

Finishing my shower, I head back to the floor where my jeans lay reaching for the heart-shaped locket inside. I take my time running my fingers over the grooves of the design, the rounded edges bringing me comfort. My hand pinkens from gripping it so tight that the veins in my hand begin to pulsate, beating against its metal frame, emulating the love that's no longer allowed in this new start. A piece of paper sneaking out of my pocket catches my attention, but I’m weary of where it could have possibly come from.

A note?

Glancing around my room, assuring that I’m alone, I open the folds slowly wondering what it might possess.

I’m not sure what to say, but I need to show you something. Meet me by the edge of The Wake. I hope I’m right about you - J

J!?