Generation Radiation

A New Age.

I stand in my family's  small yard, breathing in the sweet spring air. It still reeks of smog and pollution, but it's still warm and smells of rain.  The dead grass surrounding my steel-toe boots tickles and pokes at my shins. I walk along the crumbling concrete sidewalks, and look around. As I stalk the metal fence along my street, I think of how society came to such disaster.

In what the world calls 'The Wasteful Ages', a country bombed what used to be the fattest, most prideful and argumentative nation ever to exist. In turn, an ally sent nuclear missiles to the first country. Who bombed them, and so began World War IV. It was a time of unending distress and pain. At some point, everyone surrendered at once. Who knows why, it could've been the new children coming out of their mothers as revolting mutants, or just a loss of supplies. Nevertheless, we are the descendants of much less disgusting, however hateful, humans.

And so began a new era. Even though we're damaged, most towns and cities are tightly knit. I, personally, don't care for our way of living. It's like what my teacher once said, before he was killed by a student for no apparent reason.

"Our world has been torn apart. Due to nuclear radiation, we've mutated. We've also plummeted way back in racism and sexism. This isn't right. We're not animals. We used to have laws. Now that we don't, people everywhere kill others, rape, steal, whatever they want. No one can fight back. There is no structure. It's wrong."

In this new age, there are a few rules I must follow, as a woman, or be shunned:

1.) Be polite. This means, I must have manners.

2.) Be un-opinionated, as it's highly unattractive to males.

3.) Be beautiful. This means to be presentable, as well as have a sexy figure and a winning smile. Ew.

4.) Be stupid. Stop going to school when you've been betrothed.

They're unspoken, but highly expected if you wish to be considered desirable.  I hate these rules! In the Wasteful Ages, a woman could be as smart as she wanted! But no, men are back to being threatened by the females.

My sister has fallen prey for a man. 

I don't understand it, why is she going to give up her life so a male can have a woman at home, waiting for him? It's not smart. But neither is she.

Tonight, we will be celebrating her coming of age, of her becoming a woman. My mother is thrilled, my father is simply happy he has one less mouth to feed. We're all glad he's unimaginably rich. But, my sister is blinded by her love for this older man. Truly, she loves him with all her heart. And I'm unsure how her fiancé feels about her. He's got exposable income, yet he picks MY sister, who is poor and often underfed?  While she is one of the best people I've ever met, she's also everything any man could ever want. She cooks, she cleans, she's gorgeous, she's got quite a body, she's young and supple. But does he want her for her personality, or her for anything but her personality?

I don't know.

I am just about to reach the end of my block, when, I see Valencia walk out of her home. She's the least attractive person I've ever seen. It pains me to look at her, but I smile and wave shyly anyway. She has three nose bridges and one nostril, swollen cheeks with gills, and a circular orange patch of skin connecting her chin to her neck. She waves back with her yellowed hand, and walks in the opposite direction of me.  She's just one example of the millions of grossly disfigured Un-Humans.

I continue walking until I notice a crowd. I happen to catch a glimpse of what's happening. A young woman, 15 or so, has just been married to a man that looked around 26. I'm not sure about any other country, but where I live, after two people have been wed, they consummate the marriage in the streets. Any man who wishes to lay with the female can, as soon as her husband has 'done the deed' three times. 

This is why I'll never marry. And why I feel hurt for my sister.

At this sight, I attempt the flee. Realizing that my shirt hasn't been cut at the back, I try to force my two extra limbs through. They just won't rip through the fabric! I need out of here. I can't stand the cheers and the grunts... In a fit of frustration,  I take the light-weight muscle tank top off and begin to run, then I lift off into the sky.

You see, I am just like everyone else. I am deformed. A mutant. A freak. A monster.

Except, instead of missing kneecaps or having an extra arm, I have wings.