Sparked With Power ( Dystopian Society Fiction )

Chapter 1: The Dream

He stands quietly. He's in the middle of a wide grassy field. The grass is long and sways in unison with the gentle wind. He smiles and extends his arm out to me.

"Welcome home Lida", he says sweetly.

I move forward, but then hesitate. I start to feel water run down my neck. Then all of a sudden the raindrops increase. He steps away slowly. His hair soaks in the warm rain, yet he still smiles sweetly. He repeats the same line.

"Welcome home, Lida"

His soothing voice starts to fade away to the soft whisper that a mother uses to quiet her baby. I run to him, but he quickly vanishes into the midst of rain and fog.

I gasp and open my eyes. A burst of sunlight comes in through my window. I take a look at my bright red alarm clock, a gift from ages ago. I glance at the dull gray digits. It's seven forty five. I'm late again and it's that dream. It's been making me late for school these couple of days. It repeats itself over and over again, like a scratched record. I told my grandmother about it, but she say's it's a warning. I don't think that's what it is though. It just doesn't seem to make sense.

I get up and throw on my shabby school uniform. A plain white shirt with buttons and a collar, a blue skirt that reaches my knees, and a pair of leather boots that my mother once wore. Everytime I use something that's hers, I feel like I'm following in her footsteps. I hope I do, because I wanna die with grace and selflessness and bravery and, and for something I care about. I grab a brush and run it along my long brown hair and slightly comb the bangs that lie to the side. I grab my old black bag and rush out of my compartment, one of the many here in the old boarding house. I find the stairs to my left and rush down, hearing the same creaks I used to be terrified of when I first got here. i was just a small wide eyed girl. Now I run seamlessly at the age of 15, but still small for my taste.

As I dash down the halls, I pass by the front where Ana, my grandmother's assistant gives me a smug look.

"Late again, huh?", she grins.

I give her a dirty look as I exit the only stable doors here. I can just make out her laughter as the doors close and I'm let out to the hot sun of our sector. I stare blindly at the sun, then cover my eyes and guide myself to the high speed train station, the main transportation system here. Right now it's rush hour, I've been dealing with this for the last couple of days.

I finally get on to the over populated train. I hang on to the cold metal walls of the train. Since this is the transport sector, we can afford this kind of luxury that other sectors just can't have. I still have to wait until I'm 16, to legally drive a car. It's one of the few things that our sector left from the people before us. They used to be called American citizens well, until they were destroyed from the most recent World War. That was when when the new nation decided to divide up into sectors that still make up a country, but each of them live isolated from each other. They are to stay that way until the sectors get along. Many call these Americans, savages. Wild and beyond control. But I'm actually fond of them, the way their old system worked. Before everything collapsed, before the system of fifty states was abandoned, and before millions of people killed each other over the Biopsychology Test. The Biopsychology Test is basically the study of how emotions, thoughts and behavior patterns are affected by the brain. In simple words, it's a test that the sectors give us to ennsure we are stable and sane enough to be human and to live with the rest of humanity. Back in the days, there were a lot of arguments about the elimination of crimes, they wanted to make something that helped maintain a person well behaved and disciplined. And, that turned into the creation of the Biopsychology Test, where every year they do a test on eighteen through twenty five year olds. It is an obligation to take this test between those years. If you somehow don't want to follow procedures, you can be eliminated from the sector system and kicked out to the outside. That's were the people who don't want to obey the sector rules, are not at a certain human stability, or simple want to be self sufficient, live there. It's tough there, and that's why there's very few people who live in the "gutter". And that's were I grew up. Until my mother's incident.

Finally, the train haults and everyone jumps up from their chair and makes their way out into the warm air. I pace down the crowded streets until I get to my old red school.