The Perfect Human Project

Chapter 9

I closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in the wondrous feeling of my mom running her fingers through my freshly damp hair. "Dad says breakfast is going to be here soon." Her cooing voice filled the small space between us. I shifted uncomfortably on the small wooden chair, feeling the back of the chair beginning to dig into the small of my back. I was afraid if I moved to fast, I would lose the feeling of this moment, and have to come to terms with the horrific fact that, I have to go back to work, which meant I had to face the prying eyes at the hover train, feeling their slimy judgment on my back as I stand there like nothing ever happened. I was granted a week's leave after the hover train incident, and quiet frankly, I wish it could have been longer. But I was in desperate need of  the credits to pay my fine for being late, and secretly I was tired of going to the Rec center with my mom and her boring friends.

"Okay." I opened my eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the tackiness of the living room around me. Since my mother was never selected for a official job, she had made it her personal mission to keep the house up to date, with what ever ugly thing was in style nowadays. This month must be the month of colors that resemble cat puke. Multiple shades salmon mixed in with green and specks of light browns all thrown against the wall. Most times when I am home alone, waiting for my mother to return from her daily workout, I get the urge to just rearrange the living room and make it look like a actual home, and not something she and her tacky group of friends pulled out of subscription that she skimmed over on the wall screen. I could feel my mother's fingers quickly twisting my hair into a tight braided bun pinning it securely to my head with a hair tie. She gently ran her cool hands across the top of my head once she was finished making sure all the flyways where pinned properly in their place. 

"Liam says that they upgraded the screens, so it makes it a lot harder to pick out the smaller details. He says a lot of things have been slipping through, that they had to call in extra Sorters from other Sectors just to go back and check and make sure that there where no mistakes."My mother gave my hair a final spritz of hairspray. "He says he got stuck with this old grumpy guy named Dale who used to be a old time Sorter, back in the day when wall screens and hand pads where just coming around. Liam says, he likes to complain about working with such young kids, and it's our fault that things are getting screwed up. He's says that Dale make sure he let's everyone knows that he once reached Master Sorter status at one point in his life." My eyes finally settled on the small oval shaped mirror across from where I was sitting, the my  hazel eyes menacingly winking back at me in the filtered morning light.

"Well sweetie, they are just trying to keep everything running smooth, and if that means doubling up on the Sorters at each station, than that means we all need to chalk it up and go along with it." She leaned forward and gave my shoulders and hard squeeze. "Besides Liam has thin skin sweetie, you know he could never  take criticism all to well. Why they put him in a job that demands that type of judgment, I will never understand. I see that boy more as someone working with in the government, you know like running the Job Choosing Ceremony, or maybe things along those lines. You know? Jobs that challenges the brain he has, not just some mundane sorting job."

I couldn't stop the eye roll that was coming. "Mom they've never had to bring in extra Sorters. We've always had things under control, that's why we where selected for this job and a lot of people are in danger of being reassigned because of this upgrade, even Liam. Not that it matters though, I'll still be stuck in this crummy job." I looked away from the mirror, unable to stand staring at my self any longer. I glanced down at my moon kissed legs and fingered the hem of the ugly skirt. I was the only uniform that was ordered to be changed the day of the upgrade. My dad said he had asked our supervisor and had gotten the answer 'to make work more efficient.' Which was totally pointless, and I tried to get my father to see my side of things, but he just told me roll on with it and don't question the decision. Why would a skirt be more efficient? I never worked well in skirts, the few times I was forced to wear them in Primary, I cut them up and dyed them with paint.