Contraptions

Chapter 1- Normality

Lilah

With the sky turning dark and the moon starting to shine, I knew it was time to head home. The sky had a navy blue color, with some clouds and stars visible in the distance. The long bike ride home always wore me out, especially after a long day such as thing one. My parents say that I need to get stronger and lose weight, so they flatten my tire a bit every day making it harder to pedal. It seems cruel, but they claim it is only for the best. The ride home today was horrible, my tire blew halfway through and I had to walk with my pink bike by my side the rest of the way home. At least it wasn't too hot outside, the wind was nice and the stars are always beautiful to observe. I see no one, except for 2 other kids, maybe brothers. 

One is way taller, maybe about my age, with dirty blonde hair and a black jacket. The younger boy has on a coat and jeans, with a rip in the bottom of his shoe. They seem to be arguing about something, I couldn't make out the words from across the street. I don't think they noticed me, however, so I walked slowly and stared at the ground, listening to their conversation. "What are you doing? You're going to get us caught!" the younger boy said in an angry tone. His voice is high-pitched and whiney. The older boy rolled his eyes and spoke, "Oh relax, no one is going to find us. Look at this, I broke off my tracker!" The young boy gasped in disbelief, covering his dirty hand to his mouth. "You can't do that!!" he exclaimed. 

I winced at the thought of taking off my tracker, my dad would murder me. I don't think I have ever seen anyone take it off before. I have been warned that it results in dire consequences, however. When I was young, my Grandpa used to tell me stories about how the boys at his school used to hide in the bathrooms and take off their trackers to make jokes and prove they were not scared. While my grandpa never took place in these activities, he did tell me about how a boy in his school got caught one day, and they never saw him again. 

I wonder what they do to those people, the ones who don't follow the rules. I couldn't imagine, my parents have always taught me to be a respectable and mature young lady, so I know better than to participate in such tomfoolery. However, my instincts tell me to warn them, but I couldn't. My father would be furious if he saw me talking to strangers, especially boys. I let them be, and sneak off quietly with my bike, wondering what will come of them.

Connor

Every day seems to repeat itself. It's like nothing new ever happens, especially in this town. All the houses painted the same color, every person is given a pair of clothes to wear at school, it's all so strict. I can't help but long for more in life, but you can't always have everything. My little brother and I were walking home from school one day, the air was chilly and it was starting to get dark. I looked down at my brother, with pink cheeks and a stern look on his face. "What happened at school?" I asked calmly. He never usually comes back in a bad mood. "It was just all wrong. A boy in my class was presenting his project on the town's history, and I noticed one of the facts was incorrect. When I went to correct him, he tilted his head towards me and gave me some weird look, like a death stare. The teacher didn't even say anything! I hate my school." I nod and stare at the floor.

 It pains me to see my brother so upset. I can't help but notice the huge rip in his shoe, flapping along the sidewalk. "And your shoe?" I ask. He looks down and smirks. "Oh yeah. I got in a fight." My eyes widen as I stare at him with disbelief, pushing him to a stop. "A fight?" I exclaim. "Josh, you're 10! Kids your age don't get in fights! Especially not here. Did you get in trouble?" He shakes his head and crosses his arms. "Nope. The other guys started it. He threw the punch at me and I ducked. He had punched right into the fire hydrant, breaking the glass causing the alarm to go off. The glass ripped up my shoe. The school evacuated and then he ran away. Surprised he wasn't bleeding though, that punch looked like it hurt."

 I turn my eyes back towards the houses, and continue to walk, my brother trailing behind me. "I still can't believe you took off your tracker" my brother said, looking at his beat up shoes. "What's the worst that can happen?" I smirk. Oh, I know what could happen. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get out of this stupid town. I won't be controlled anymore.

Blaire

I heard a loud knock on my door. "Yes?" I said loudly while flipping through my magazines. I have always wanted to be like the models in the magazines, getting paid to take pictures? Sounds like a dream to me. My mom walked in, a pleasant smile on her face. Her long black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. "Dinner's ready" she said happily as she walked further into the room. I scoffed and looked back down at my magazines. "I'm not hungry" I say, turning around in my chair so my back is facing her. 

"Blaire, you have to eat. I didn't make this food for nothing." She says crossing her arms. My mom has a tendency to make this horrible face, one full of annoyance and hatred. I swear sometimes it's hard to believe my mom has any other emotions. "Dad can eat it." I say rolling my eyes. My mom sighs and leans against the door, "Your father is working. He has not eaten in 4 days. Come down, have some food." I sit up and raise my voice, "I said I'm not hungry! Now Leave me alone." My mom shook her head and slowly walked out the door. When closing it, she stopped for a second, only to proceed to shut it. 

I hopped into my bed and stared at the ceiling for a moment. I don't know why I am so unhappy, my father is rich, and I live in a nice big house. What is wrong with me? I should be thankful I have a home unlike some kids around here. I glance at the clock and see it is starting to get late. My family is always the kind to have late dinners, but I don't mind. I take a deep breath and shut off my lights. Tomorrow is another school day, just like the rest. Following the routine, is that all I can do? Or is there something more to life than that?