Dahlia Red

Chapter 1

Inside I stare at the open window. It's happy, it's cheery; it's a picture. The city has many laws. One is that you cannot be outside after the 15th hour of the day: which is probably why most old people here have osteoporosis. The owners believe, we will be "attacked" by some mysterious hue. I however, choose to believe that the gay clothes they are wearing are cutting off the oxygen to their peanut brains. But who cares; rules were made to be broken, right?

Harold is in the living room reading a book. Sometimes I find it so hard to believe we are even related. Him being as smart as he can be, with his pants so high they look like footie pajamas. OK, he's not that much of a nerd; it just sounded funny to say. He's actually the fifth coolest guy in school. Having a talent is a gift. But having more than one is just abnormal; and awesome. But sometimes he crosses the line with too much smart talk and not enough blending in. He'd better watch out. He may be older, but he is still not prepared for what's out there. I am.

When I think about people in my head, I sort of stare at them in real life. Harold looks up at me with a frown on his face.

"What now?"

I become curious and look down at my body language. My shoulders are slumped, my skin is pale, and my hands hang down like they have been hung.

"Oh. Nothing ju-"

"Trying to figure me out again?"

Yes. That's exactly what I'm doing.

"No. Just wondering how you can sit there reading a dictionary." I say with a shy laugh.

He smiles and holds up the cover of the book. "Our Mutual Friend"

"Oh," I admit, that's a great book. "I thought you read that last summer?" Trying to sound less surprised.

"No, just because it's a big book doesn't mean it's the one I read over and over again" He pauses then says, "Most likely." Harold is my brother, and I love him. But when I see him taking a nap on the couch with that book wrapped in his arms, I need to punch him to reality.

My family is one of the normal families in the city, meaning we are sane, but we are one of the richest families here. We are one of the 5 owners of the city. And together, we are one of the 6 owners of the world. I don't know who the other owners are, but all I can think about is them. Are they strong or brave, smart or cool, week or together. I may never know, and that's a problem I need to solve.

I glance over at the clock on the stove. It reads 6:32. I am so bored in this house. All I do is sleep, eat, draw and sleep. I love drawing. But not realistic people or abstract. More like, cartoons, pictures, cities, landscape, etc. I like to imagine I could draw anything. But without help, I can't do as much as I would like. In school we don't have art classes or music lessons. We learn the usual things like math, science, english, social studies, reading, defense, and gym. No health, no art or music, no language.

The owners think that we shouldn't learn another language because then we will be encouraged to explore and leave the city. Owners don't want that. But I do. I want the world to know who I am. I want everyone who is out there to know me for who I am, not some green rich girl who has no life and friends besides Misty. I don't know where she is from, but Misty is my best friend. I hear her constantly begging me,"Let's escape, together. "I will get you out". Most people don't want to hear about Misty, mostly because they think I'm just insane. But like I said; I'm one of the few normal ones around here.

The thing about Misty is her eyes. They are the only thing I see when I look at her. Sadly though, they can change. She said it's in her nature for her eyes to change color. But after it transitions, it stays. Forever. I would miss her eyes. Her big, dreamy, bold eyes. Gone? Maybe. That's a part of me.