Unhuman ≫ h.s.

1

[Four months earlier, in the year of 2280]

There was something so unbelievably hard about getting up in the mornings, if there were any way I could stay in my bed for eternity I'm sure I would've have found it.

My sheets clung to my sweat covered body, and I raked a free hand through tangled locks of hair as I remembered the particularly strange nightmare I've been having on and off for months now.

I huffed out a breath, "just a bad dream."

I was already uninterested in today's activities. My body was limp and slothful, unwillingly I pushed the covers back, "Please let today be a better day than the last." I whispered.

I heard my fathers voice calling for me, reluctantly I stepped outside of my bed, leaving the warmth behind me. I glanced out my window and saw how miserable it was outside.

It was down pouring; pounding a relentless rhythm against my window. The sky was darkened with clouds of black and gray, covering the city in a blanket of what looked of certain doom.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth before pulling my shoulder length dark hair in a ponytail. My lanky my arms slipped into a dark grey long-sleeved shirt over my head. Also, I had to throw out some crazy awkward moves to get myself into my favorite black jeans before finally settling on a pair of retro converse that I had bought in this old thrift shop.

Our society has been divided into two main groups, the Innate-organics, which were more or less people with a more natural minimalistic  life style and the Artificials.

The Artificials usually held  the political positions, and generally speaking are very rich. Although I've seen Innate-organics transition, and I've also seen people who should be organic relate to being an artificial. Usually if your born into an artificial family you stay that way, people usually don't like to give up power.

The organics make sure things run smoothly, they keep peace. Sometimes you can tell by appearance... Innate-organics usually wear natural, soft colors,  while the artificial wear harsh edgy colors like black and silver with metal accessories, only the finest of fine.

Although you can't always trust clothes, if someone's serious enough about the group they'll get their skin branded with the official seal.

I was one of the few who were born into a mixed family, my father fell hopelessly in love with my mother who was an organic. Everything about their relationship shouldn't have worked but their love was so strong. My dad always explained it like Romeo ad Juliet, he was forbidden to be with her but even his parents couldn't stop him.

I could never truly choose which one I could relate more to, lately I've been trying to address myself as more of an artificial. More so because of my father, not because I necessarily want to.

I think its due to the fact my mothers missing in the equation, when she was here I felt balanced, like I had a part of each of them in myself... now that she's gone its like a part of me is gone.

For good measure I added black spiked headband into my hair, it was a little obnoxious because of the intensity of the spikes and height but that's everything Articials wanted to be, bigger and better. Carefully I created thick black stripes over my eyes, trying to be as symmetric as possible.

A rush of cold air hit against my exposed skin making goosebumps rush to the surface like weeds, turning around I saw why. My window was cracked. It was odd, yet, I didn't make a big deal of it...things like that happened to me all the time. It's just the way it's always been, ever since I was a little girl.