Speak No Evil

Chapter 1

April stared longingly at her window. Radiant beams of moonlight shone like a beacon of hope and the dark shining of midnight stars seemed to fill the room with a certain glow, drowning out the lamp light. It had only been seven years since the war had passed but the sky was clear and unscathed, aside from the slight distortion of the force field that surrounds the town.

April was not very tall, at just 1.6 meters, and she looked very young, however she had very little clue as to how old she actually is. She had very long, silvery blonde hair that spilled down past her waist. Her eyes were a murky green color, and her skin was very pale. Without a crutch, she slowly limped to the open window. Her leg never healed properly since the unfortunate accident during the war. She was lucky to even be alive. She lost everything in the war: her mother, her memories. A big chunk of her life was gone.

Seven years ago, April was a victim of a terrible explosion and as a result she was greatly injured. Her father insists the bombs were set by the so-called "freedom fighters." The only thing left in her possession from that time was a necklace attached with a small, empty red bottle; inside was a musty, old newspaper clipping of a young woman from sixty years ago who greatly resembled April. She presumed this woman to be her grandmother. The woman was surrounded by several individuals, and was holding hands with a taller man who stood at her side, possibly her grandfather? The edges of the photo were burned and the faces of everyone else were lost to time. On the back was some sort of illegible ad for a toaster oven that started in April. She wore this necklace at all times hidden safely under her shirt, even her father had no idea of its existence.

She cherished this bottle, her most sacred treasure. It reminded her of a past she once knew but could no longer remember, and of the selfless bravery of her mother.

April gently tucked her hair behind her ear. A habit which she hated. Her left ear was also damaged in the bombing, the top cartilage drooped down and her hair could never stay tucked behind.

She leaned against the open window. As she looked out into the night sky, she could not shake the feeling that someone or something knew her every movement. Though this feeling was not unnatural, it somehow felt different this night. She lived with Gabe, her father. Since the war, there were no longer any "mischievous" people roaming the streets. The world had been turned into a utopia of peace. However, the peace had come with a price. Everything was given a label, from clothing to appliances, and humans. Everything was given a code scribed into its very genetic makeup. This new law became known as the Rose Law.

The code kept everyone in line; each person was monitored by a chip in their upper left arm that gauged their vital signs as well as their global position. This brought about a sense of security. The damaged and the poor, who could not afford food or shelter simply died silently in the streets and were disposed of before the scent could bother the more prosperous individuals. Human morale changed with that war and the seeds of a new way of life began to grow.

The following day April walked through the crowds of people. It seemed to her that there were no longer individuals, but a mass of fear and obedience. Her mind soared to the sky, imagining a bird's eye view of the crowd, faces all the same like some sort of strange river flowing and melding together with a steady, unheard rhythm. The vision took a nosedive and she crashed back into reality, realizing that she, too, was part of the mass.

She proceeded to her workplace, completed a routine day in silence, all the while feeling as though she were being watched, but this was a familiar sensation. Gabe has eyes everywhere and always seems to know everything. Sometimes it felt to April as though he could read minds. She recalled several instances where she would be daydreaming, or dreaming of a better life and soon after would be met by an advertisement or news article discouraging her longings, as if it were specifically designed to dissuade her. Even though she lived with him, she never spoke a word of her desires, nor did she have prolonged encounters with him. At most there would be a light dinner with minimal conversation, he would usually try and make her laugh with a silly story using strange voices for each character. Immediately after he would slink to his office. She knew nothing of the man.