The society I live in doesn't discriminate against gays/lesbians/bisexuals, etc. It’d be impossible for them to do that now days; I don’t know how they used to.
The year is 3001. I’m seventeen years old and like most teenagers, I’m confused and indecisive. I’ll be eighteen in three months and I’ll be going off to college then… I’ll also be picking my gender in three months.
I don’t know how I know who I know; we’re literally nobodies. I can’t tell you what I look like, because there’s no point in looking in the mirror- we all look the same until we turn eighteen. I have a good idea about what we look like though; I think we look like Amish dolls. They don’t have detailed faces, if faces at all. We look like really vague sketches of strangers, hollow and no specific details.
Parents have faces and everything like normal people… we don’t get that privilege until we turn. I respect the fact the age is eighteen, but what if we figure out we don’t like what we picked? What if we choose to be a guy, but later on realized guys are the ones we like? We can’t change this decision; this choice alters our future, it’s who we will become. Forever.
Don’t think I don’t have friends; I do. But they’re not necessarily real… they’re the people I want to become in three months. My least favorite is this guy names Ian; he’s what the old people would call a “surfer dude.” Although he’s an idiot, I still think it would be pretty awesome to have a skill like surfing. See, the government sends teenagers these catalogs with these ideal people, like settings, of people we choose from. My favorite, the one I would die to become, is named Oakley. Leaf green eyes, shoulder length blonde hair and a nice, no, amazing personality. Oakley is a girl, so I don’t know yet. There’s this one other, Jason. He’s tall, fit, and has the most perfect brown eyes anyone could ever imagine. I’ll probably pick Jason, but I still have three months to weigh the options.
There was a knock on my door, which like never happens.
“Come in,” and in walk The Parents.
“We just wanted to see how your Search was going…”
“It’s going well… I guess?”
“Stark, honey, let me talk to our child for a moment alone, please,” my mother said as she held the door open for my father to walk out. He said nothing, but had a somewhat depressed expression on his face. He turned around and walked out.
Mother came to my bed and sat on the edge of it and looked concerned.
“I know this is a hard decision for you to make, but once you make it, life gets so fun and exciting,” she said smiling. She’s acting like she’s only trying to get me just pick one or the other, instead of WHICH to pick. My God. Thanks mom, you’re never any help. Go away.
“Thanks mom,” I stood up, “I’m going to the park, I’ll be home before dark,” and left my mother sitting on my white sheets in my white room.
I was so confused, like, what am I supposed to do? HOW DO PEOPLE DO THIS?!
I got to the park and sat down on a swing, not even in the mood to swing. As usual. I wasn’t paying attention until I felt a jab in my shoulder. Someone poked me. And it hurt. A lot.
“Hey,” they said.
“’sup,” I replied, not even looking up because what’s the point? We all look the same anyway. But there was something different about this person, I couldn’t place my finger on it though. Every time I went to the park, the same person showed up. Every. Single. Time. Thinking more on this fact, I turned toward the person sitting in the swing next to me. I looked directly in their black, bottomless, circles we call eyes.
“What’s your problem? Why do you always come here when I do,” I asked offensively, as if this was my park.
“Because I want to help you,” they said in a soft monotone.
“Help? You think I need… help? With what?”
“You know exactly what I mean, you know” they said slyly. I was silently freaking out.
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen, I’ll be eighteen in about three months,” they KNEW. I don’t even know how I knew they knew, but they did and I didn’t want to question it too much.
“So, am I supposed to spill my guts to you now or…?”
“That’s not how this works, kid. I’m here to help you just as much as you’re here to help me.” I was puzzled. They knew it, too.
“We turn eighteen within days of each other. Let’s do it at the same time. We’re meant for each other,” they said as if they could see the future.
“What the hell? You’re crazy,” I spat. I got up and started to leave and go back home, where it was crazy, but not this bad. Seconds later, I feel a grip on my wrist and I feel my body turn towards this person. Before I knew anything, they were kissing me. On the lips.
The creepiest part of that, was that I liked it. A lot.
