Fourteen and Counting

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The three friends and new boyfriend walked into the large auditorium amidst all the other gray-clad bodies. They all solemnly shuffled down the steps; they all knew what this was for and no one was looking forward to it.

Each of the 50 states have a single ruler that watches over that state. For the state of New York, that leader is Thaddeus Abrams. Thaddeus was probably the most feared leader in all of America. He towered over most people at 6' 4" and intimidated people with his stocky build and strong, deep voice. It is said that even his whisper can be heard across the country. He has dark brown eyes that are almost black. Some people joke around and say not to look straight into the or else they'll turn to stone. The jokes help mask the fear. He has a thick black mustache that looks almost like a rounded rectangle. It spans the length of his nose and never seems to change. His eyebrows are these thick black caterpillars that sit atop his eyes. Whenever he delivers a speech his eyebrows wiggle above his eyes like they're trying to escape. He never smiles. Even those closest to him have never seen him smile. Some kids think that maybe he hasn't done it in so long that he forgot how.

Melissandra looked over at Mica as they shuffled into the rows of metal seats. Her blue eyes were filled with concern and so were his. If they got numbers under 14, they would die. Everyone assures them that it will be okay. They say that nothing will change. They're fooling nobody. Those two numbers change everything. Next year there will be classmates gone who were there before. There will be kids who live for the next few years with death knocking on their door. Even the ones who live won't go unaffected. It doesn't erase the horror of having your innocent peers murdered by the government. Your peers, your friends, even family, murdered by the hand of the government. Kids with bright futures will be shot, hanged, drowned even suffocated. Melissandra tries to shake the thoughts out of her head, but they are brought back again when a list is projected on the wall for everyone in the auditorium to see. The title reads "The Fourteen Numbers."

Mica feels sick to his stomach when he reads the title on the wall. He always knew his government was twisted, but this took it to a whole other level. What person could be sick enough to come up with a system of killing innocent people as a way of population control? Population control. Mica always resented this system; probably more than others too. His older brother, Mickey, was killed when Mica was very young. Mickey and Mica had about a 10 year age difference between them. Mickey had been given the number 2. He was killed when he was 18 years old. Mica's biggest fear is that he will die like his brother. He is afraid he will get a 2 and die just like his brother. He knows his mother wouldn't be able to handle it if he dies too. His mother is on enough medication as it is. She takes 14 pills a day; most of them anxiety pills and anti-depressants. He knows if he dies, she won't be able to handle it. His death will kill her too.

Thaddeus is handed a microphone by the school advisor but he drops it to the ground. It lets out a shrill, sickening screech that causes everyone to cover their ears in pain. Thaddeus looks at all of them. "Welcome, Class of 2027. I know you're all just thrilled to be here," he said in a deep voice that sent chills down Katarina's spine. His voice was horrid. There was just something about it that didn't seem natural. He sounded like someone who they would use to narrate a horror movie.

Thaddeus puts up a long list on the screen. Upon closer inspection, Melissandra sees that it is list of kids who have died in chronological order and how they died. He scrolled down the screen laughing as if he was remembering how each kid died and how torturous is was for them. He got joy out of this and it was absolutely sickening. "Mickey Castaneda," Thaddeus read aloud. "This is my favorite. You see we bring them to the facility on their birthday. Feed them get them comfortable and then kill them when they're least expecting it. Mickey was a sweet boy. A little too sweet. I didn't want to kill him. But I had to. We drowned him."

Melissandra felt Mica tense up beside her. She put a comforting hand on his wrist. "That's not all," Thaddeus boomed. "Ever hear of dismemberment? Cremation? Did both of that. We cremate all of them. Keep them in jars in the mausoleum. You'll get to go there at then end of the week. It's a real treat." Mica clenched his knuckles and looked as the creases in his hands turned white. "Sweet boy he was." Thaddeus projected a picture of Mickey on the wall.

Mica tried to keep his breathing steady as he saw the picture of his brother projected on the wall. That was eight years ago, he reminded himself. It's over now. Seeing the picture brought all the pain back; all the confusion.

Mica ran home, his bag slapping against his side. He pressed his hand against the sensor on the door and it let him home. "Mickey! I'm home!" he yelled, his boyish voice echoing throughout the house. He greeted his brother like this everyday. Mickey would come down the stairs and make Mica a snack as he prattled on happily about his day. Their parents didn't get home until five so the boys had about an hour alone.

Zayneri Castaneda stepped out into the room and bent down on his knees so he could be face to face with his son. Mica could hear the muffled sobs of his mother, Leanera, coming from the kitchen. "Daddy? Why is Mommy crying again. She cried last year on Mickey's birthday. I thought she was done with crying."

"Mommy is just sad, sweetie."

Zayneri watched as his son's blue eyes filled with concern. "Why is she sad?"

"She-"

"Where's Mickey?"

Zayneri sighed. He couldn't avoid his son's questions forever. "Son, Mickey isn't coming home."

"Why not Daddy?"

"He's going on a long trip."

"Where?"

"To see some angels."

"Can I go tell Melly?"

"Sure sweetie."

Zayneri went into the kitchen to call Melissandra's parents that Mica was going to be there. "Sashara? Mica's coming over. If Mel or Mica ask, Mickey is on a trip to see some angels" He hung up the phone and looked at his wife. She raised her head from the spot on the metal table. Her eyes were rimmed red and had puffy bags under them. Neither of them had gotten much sleep; not lately. Not knowing their son would be killed on his birthday; not knowing that they would have to break the news to their eight-year old.

Mica remembered everything as he started at the picture. His brother had brown eyes. Most people had dark brown eyes but his brothers eyes were almost caramel colored. His hair was a curly black bush that sat atop his head. In the picture he was smiling. His teeth were like a row of pearls framed by plump pink lips. There were small crinkles at the edges of his eyes and an army of freckles danced about his nose. He missed his brother. His missed his brother everyday. Everyday he tried to push the memories of his brother farther back inside his brain. But everyday that got harder and harder to do. He didn't want to forget anymore.

Mica suddenly got up and ran down the row. He needed to get out of there. He couldn't take the stares of pity and his brother's caramel eyes. He tried to get out the door but two government officials stepped into the doorway and blocked it. "Let me out," he yelled, smashing into the guards.

"Sorry, 13015396," the left guard said gruffly.

"I have a name," Mica replied flatly.

"I don't care what it is son," he shot back.

Mica quickly ran to the other door and tried to get out but he was blocked by more guards in gray uniforms. "Sit down!" Thaddeus barked. "13015396! Sit down!"

"I'm sick of being defined as a number! I want to be more than a number."

That was the last thing he said before the officials knocked him out.