Perfect Imperfection

Chapter Two

What seems like seconds later, I wake up. My vision adjusts and I find myself on the couch in my living room. I rub my head, which has started to ache, and notice my mother sitting close to me, quietly watching me.

"Well?" she asks, eager to know every detail. That's the thing about Mother, she's very emotionally concerned about all her children.

"The officials seemed pleased," I answer, sitting up slowly and looking around the room. Dim light from a nearby lamp illuminates the clean leather grey couches and soft dark rug.

"As they should be," Mother answers. She stands up and heads out, pausing at the doorway. "Dinner's at seven." At that, she walks out, leaving me alone. I pull out my schedule from the pocket of my white shirt. I let out a relieved breath, thankful it's still free hour. I've never gone against my schedule before. I sit, pondering what to do with the little time I have before dinner. I don't get much of a chance, I'm interrupted by the familiar ring of the doorbell.

"Get the door please, 19,025!" Mother calls, and I stand up and head into the front hall. I open the front door, and standing on the porch is my best friend, 12,840.

"Did you have to tell them? About your job?" she asks, barging swiftly past me and through the door, an anxious expression painted on her face. I hush her, glancing around to make sure nobody nearby is listening. Then I close the front door and lead her into the living room. Her nervousness is clear as she waits for my answer.

"Of course, 12,840. You already knew that," I answer, and her face falls. "You're going to have to as well, next Saturday. We all have to." She sighs very slowly. 

"The manager hasn't even assigned me my job yet," she responds, fiddling with her light brown hair. "Gosh, I'm so nervous, 19,025! Mom's been hoping I'll get a nice job, like a teacher or baker... I'd hate to disappoint her if I don't. What if I don't even have one by next week? What do I tell the officials then?"

"Well, it's not our decision to make," I say sternly. I'm suddenly a little self-conscious about my job. "That's just how it should be." Knowing 12,840's mom, she'd flip if her daughter was assigned a nurse. Thank goodness I can't say the same for mine.

I check my watch, it's five minutes to seven. 12,840 should be home by now.

"Oh my gosh, I've got to go!" she says, seemingly reading my mind. "I'll see you tomorrow at school!" With that, she's gone, most likely rushing home for dinner. I head into the kitchen and help mother set the table. Tonight, assigned dinner is chicken pot pie, my favorite. My brothers join us and Mother serves us as the wall clock chimes seven.

My youngest brother, 13,547, launches into a conversation with Mother about work. I can't help but think about what 12,840 said about her mom hoping for a nice job. I'd thought be now everyone had given up hope of any choice.