Supernova

Gone

Date: June 25, 2067

Time: 1:30 am

Subject: Gone

----Alexander----

I had mapped out the house by walking around casually for the past fifteen minutes. I knew there were six bedrooms, eight baths, a dining hall, a basement, a lounge, and an outdoor patio, a closed off kitchen, a library, and three offices. I took in my surroundings to my advantage and slipped away from the blasted party and into the library. Not a soul was in here. It was quite and peaceful with rows of cherry wood bookcases strung along the walls and ground. Leather couches and chairs were sat around as well as a few coffee tables made out of the same cherry wood and matching desks with golden reading lamps. The lighting was subtle, yet bright and large glass windows took up the whole left wall of the library.

I realized quickly that these books were arranged in alphabetical order and began searching for books of my interest. I was tempted to grab the legendary Shakespeare books to read for my own interest, but knew that was not what I was here for. I then grabbed a few books on the subject on neuron science, surgery, body transplant, technical machinery, and government classification topics. I already was extremely advanced in, well… everything, so this would be a quick review and maybe if I get lucky I’ll find out some new information. You can never learn too much. Knowledge is the key to success.

I fumbled with my jumpsuit a bit, because all my sweat from the past week had allowed it to cling to my body. I trailed up the spiral staircase and found my way in the owner of this house’s bedroom. It was large with a four pole tapestry bed, but modern formed so everything was straight and white. I exited and walked down the modern corridor with vintage paintings hanging on the walls of historic figures. I made my way to the son who was seventeen’s room. He may have been three years older than me, but we were both the same height. I was tall for my age some would say. I only was an inch and three quarters above the average fourteen year old’s height.

I entered the room and it looked much like the parents design with the modern square looking bed and blue mercury lighting across the white walls and ceiling in crooked lines that looked like drawings from an Etcha Sketch. There were band posters up of rock bands which were certainly not my style. I settled for orchestras, opera, or classy jazz music. I dug through his closet and found no suitable clothing whatsoever. Then I instinctively grabbed the box on the top shelf which had a nice suit in it. I gladly took it and then opened the window and flew out into the night.

I had my new I.D in my pocket and my apartment number in the other. I went to building D and found a large apartment that I had bargained my way into with my ways of persuasion. All you had to do was make a good point, and talk educated. Most teenagers seemed to have a problem with that these days though. I put my keycard in and opened it up to a large modern penthouse apartment with a flat screen television, one bedroom, two baths, and open kitchen and living room. I walked into the bathroom and set the shower setting to waterfall mode. I was more than delighted to finally be bathed again.

I straightened the black tie around my suit and quickly realized the only shoes I had were the ones the Rehabilitations Camp had provided me with. I pressed the red room service tab on the touch screen tablet nailed to the wall in the living room. It began dialing the front desk immediately. “Apartment building D, how can I help you?” A man with a strong Bosnian accent spoke through the speakers.

“I need a pair of dress shoes immediately.” I told them.

“Sir, we do not provide clothing.” He replied to me in an annoyed, but sophisticated tone.

“You wouldn’t want me to tell the head of the company you are hiding the mold in your so called ‘Five star kitchen’, would you?” I said with a wicked smile. The line was silent.