That Is The Question.

Hazy

  love

/ləv/noun1.an intense feeling of deep affection. 

"babies fill parents with feelings of love"

a great interest and pleasure in something. 

"his love for football"

verb

feel deep affection for (someone)."he loved his sister dearly"

like or enjoy very much."I just love dancing"

Angel Shores, Akrasia. A small town in a big country, a country that has deemed Love a severe illness and therefore has wiped it clean from the minds of the citizens, they don't know what it feels like, they don't know what it sounds like or feels like, their minds are hazy, clouded, and controlled. The Metanoia government has stripped them of their ability to love. they're all sociopaths now. well, almost all of them. I stopped taking the pills, but i'm not the only one who's stopped. Morgan Tate, sixteen years old, straight "A" student, very by the book, and obedient. Morgan hasn't even questioned the pills, all Morgan knows is that it's a way of life and that they are required. Morgan, Morgan, Morgan. Poor, hazy, Morgan. When will you learn? "THEY'RE CONTROLLING YOU!" 

The words snap me awake and i shoot up so fast half the class turns to look at me with a startled expression. I smile apologetically and hide behind my text book, my teacher, Mrs. Springston, hardly even glances my way before continuing with the lesson. what was that?  I ask myself. I look around the room trying to figure out who could have been yelling but then it occurs to me that it couldn't possibly have been anyone in here, they all turned to me when I woke up, if anyone had been yelling they definitely wouldn't have been focused on me. maybe I was yelling?  I consider the thought for a moment but decide against it, if I had been yelling I would have gotten a lot more than startled looks and a single momentary glance. No. It was definitely someone else. But, who? who could it have been if not anyone here? I look out the window, lost in thought, mulling over the question, when Brynlee Fiver, my best friend, pokes me in the back with her pencil. "Whatcha thinkin' about?" she whispers. Brynlee always seems to know when something is troubling me, she has this mother-like quality to her and while it can be annoying sometimes it's also...comforting.

"Just- well...it's- it's hard to explain..." I whisper back, how do you tell someone you're hearing voices in your head without sounding like you've gone completely insane?

"Try me." she says with a soft smile.

"Well- I- I heard this...this voice-" I say, not really knowing how to start.

"Voice? like...in your head?" she glances around the room like the voice is lurking around in the shadows or something just waiting to grab her.

"Y-yeah...but I'm not crazy!" I blurt out and then look around to make sure no one heard. They didn't.

"Morgan...you've always been crazy. I'm sure it was nothing. Just a dream right? I mean, you were sleeping..." she says it matter-of-factly and she sounds so sure that it was nothing that I believe her. Then, I look to the window and freeze. I blink twice before turning back to Brynlee.

"Did you see that?!" I whisper shout. She looks out the window then back to me.

"Did I...see what?" she says with a look of startled confusion. I look back out the window and he's gone. Just like that. Poof. Vanished. Who was that? I continue staring out the window as if that'll bring him back but it doesn't. 

"N-nothing, nevermind..." I mutter to Brynlee who shrugs and goes back to work. I swear I saw someone. A boy, 5'6 maybe 5'7, honey brown hair, tan skin, and bright blue eyes. Bright ocean blue eyes staring directly at me with an unreadable expression. After awhile I stop staring out the window and get back to work. By lunchtime I've almost forgotten about him until Brynlee point to my arm and asks "What's that all about?" I look down at the dark purple ink covering my arm and nearly drop my tray.