The Societies

Left

Xander's POV

I have lived on the left side of the wall since I was born the year after the war had ended. I faintly remember the sounds of bells and something my great grandfather told me was called "music".

But after that, I never heard it again. The Societies were made, and now all I can here is the sounds of calculators and keyboards. Secretly, I make a tune out of the technological sounds.

I have loved my life with all of the logical and mathematical thinking here. But I can't help but wonder if I would like it on the other side better.

I stand against the wall now, a small gap where I have to bend over to see through. I look through it now, to a girl who is sitting with a sketchbook, drawing while in thought.

She is always there, at least, whenever I am here. Sometimes she looks up at the wall and I think that she sees me. Then I freak out and hide off to the side and check through the crack again to see her looking back down at her book; or journal; or new trinket.

I sigh in relief as I sit back down on the grey, bland bench about 10 feet away from the wall. The difference between this bench and the one on the other side boggles my mind.

I glance down at my watch and notice that it's almost curfew. I walk briskly through the buildings to get back to my housing unit. I slide in through the door just as its locking up for the night.

I sigh in relief before turning around to face Father and Mother. Both seemed to be angered by my late appearance.

"Xander why are here so late?" Mother asks me with her arm looped around Father's.

"I've told you before Mother, I'm working on a new update for The Device," I say, which isn't a total lie; I am working on it. I just wasn't working on it tonight specifically.

"Well I hope this won't become a habit," Father says sternly.

"Of course not," I say as calmly as I can.

I don't know how everyone here can be so calm. It's like they have no emotion.

I wait exactly five seconds for either of my parents to reply, causing for the conversation to continue, but after the short break of silence I move past them and go up the stairs to my bedroom.

"Good night, Mother. Good night, Father," I tell them when I get to the top step; every night this is our routine.

"Good night son," they say simultaneously.

I head to my room, thinking of how tomorrow my life would be completely different for an entire month.

Maybe I'll finally meet the girl on the other side of the wall. Maybe we will live together. Maybe we can restart a world where there is music. Maybe we can finally be the ones to change this world.