Stop and Smell the Roses

Chapter I

I turn to the sound of someone singing.

A slow, melancholy sound, a sadly beautiful voice drifting through the crisp breeze. My hair blows lightly around my face, catching in my tears. I try and ignore the music, but it's hard to ignore something that only exists inside your head.

I stumble aimlessly through the empty street, the metal birds chorusing their programmed joy. I can see the children playing, their eyes dull, but their countenances innocent. It pains me to imagine them going into Conditioning. Of course, they don't know about that. No one does. I'm the exception, the girl who sees things, hears things, knows things... The crazy girl, the mad girl.

The lonely girl.

I've never truly acquainted myself with anyone, but I thrive in the shadows, I bathe in the darkness... I've been referred to as just a shadow, a wisp, an outline.

I haven't spoken to anyone for a very long time.

I feel nonexistent at times, people no longer acknowledge me, my own parents left so long ago... I have no idea where they went, or why they went... I tried to convince them to stay before they left, but whenever my mother saw me, she froze up. My father stopped functioning. I wonder if they know that I'm here. I am alone, but I try to convince myself that I like it. The trouble is, I'm a terrible liar.

The singing continues, an eternal ballad coursing through my mind, awakening memories that I never knew I had. I know so much, but I remember so little... The song awakens the memories, and I cling to them for a few moments before they slip like water through my fingers. It's like trying to catch smoke.

I have a few brief moments that I hold onto, small snippets that last only a few seconds at a time... But one memory, one thing that I have always known... The roses. I see them everywhere, blossoming in windowsills, growing in fields of grass, tucked into the braid of a child's hair. I can smell them, the scene sweet and pungent. And terrible. I hate it, but there is no escaping it. It's everywhere.

I reach my Dome, the tinted glass glinting in the holographic sunlight. I enter the code, because the facial recognition stopped working. I walk into the dimly lit room, and the door seals itself behind me. I remove my grey sandals and I let my toes sink into the plush carpeting. My eyes rest on the portraits lining the wall. Pictures of people that once lived... Pictures of my mother's mother, my father's father. I was never allowed to see them, children aren't supposed to know what happens to them. Of course, I know what happens to them. What they do to them.

I know what happens to everyone.

I hate knowing, I hate being the only one. I barely remember the pure ecstasy of not knowing, of being free, without the weight of the entire world on my shoulders. I live in mortal agony.

I live in my own personal hell.

Of course, not all of it is bad. Sometimes the information is useful. I know passwords to get into secret rooms, I know classified secrets that were meant to be kept hidden.

I know what emotion feels like.

It's powerful, it courses through like a raging storm, gives people something to live for. But it makes loneliness all the more painful.

I stride to the center of the living room and I place my hand on the grey rug that lies there, worn from years of being trodden upon. A hatch opens up in the middle, and I descend down the ladder into the underground safe house.

I hate being so exposed up in my Dome, the walls see-through to prevent any unauthorized actions inside. The safe house is concealed, hidden away, capable of offering privacy. I've covered the walls of the safe house with pictures, pictures that I've taken over the years. My Dome. The Capital Residence. The street. The rose fields. I'm not permitted to have a camera, but no one seems to mind when I use it. Anyway, I stopped caring about rules a long time ago.

My parents built this safe house for me. Went against the rules for me. Risked imprisonment for me. So why did they leave me? Why did the leave without telling my where they went? The thoughts constantly run across my mind. Was it something I said? Something that I did?

I suddenly realize how exhausted I am. I lay down on my pod, sinking into the soft mattress. I close my eyes slowly, and I drift into a troubled sleep.