Dystopia

Chapter 1

"We serve, we work, and we bring the bread to the table of the Isolone. Never betray, never disobey, and follow the rules to make peace." Children all in their youth repeated.  

It was yet another day at the youth's learning academy. Children between ages two and fifteen were fed the knowledge of the Isolone so that they may become a functioning part of society. Every minor was dressed in plain white clothing which consisted of a white long-sleeve blouse, a grey belt, and matching dress pants with flat shoes.

"Let's say it again, children." The Mentor pronounced as she opened her arms and allowed the silky white fabric to unfurl like wings. 

"We serve, we work, and we bring the bread to the table of the Isolone. Never be more--sorry--never betray, never ignore--I'm sorry--" a young fourteen year old boy stuttered as he closed his eyes trying to focus.

"Again, child?" The Mentor placed her hands on her hips as she stared disapprovingly at the young boy. 

"Please accept my deepest apologies, my Mentor." the boy said as he lowered his head and placed his palms together as if in "prayer".  

Everyone in the room fourteen years old was the same height, except this boy. This adolescent was taller, not by much, but easily noticeable. Everyone in the Commoner Elite had brown hair and brown eyes, but he had black hair that graced his shoulders, side bangs, and brown eyes. This boy's name, was Eric-434. 

"Let's do it again." the Mentor said.

"We serve, we work, and we bring the bread . . .  to the table of the Isolone? Never be frail--I mean-- never disobey, and follow the rules to make peace." Eric stuttered once again. 

Everyone said it perfectly, as these are the first words children are taught. Before even learning to say the word father or mother, they say these phrases that they will repeat until the day they perish. But this wasn't the case for young Eric, as his first word was "why". He was born with the curse of being unable to repeat and believe the Sacred Oath of the Commoner Elite, and also an inquisitive mind. Always questioning and wondering why things were the way they were. Why if he so desired to play with another child from the Governing Elite would he be punished by death? Why was playing Disk such a sin? He was only allowed to throw and receive a Disk from a member of his own elite. 

After the teaching hour was over, Eric returned home to his mother and father. As he walked through the streets, he glanced momentarily at the residencies. Every house was the same. One story, ivory, and minimalist. He sometimes wondered how new residents managed to learn their way around town, since every street and corner looked identical. 

Eric looked at children and others his age playing an talking together. Because everyone viewed him as an enigmatic individual, Eric had no friends. Sometimes, passerby stole disgusted glances at him for looking different. He was aware he was odd, and cursed himself for being different from the rest. It was a constant battle within him. Debating whether he should follow his individuality or blend with the crowd. 

He finally arrived at his dwelling, and opened and closed the front door. 

"Mother, I'm home!" Eric yelled as he walked down the corridor to the kitchen. 

Standing behind the counter was his mother. She had brown hair done into a neat bun, and common brown eyes. She crossed her arms above her chest and looked sternly at him. 

"I received a projection from your Mentor, Eric." she said as she arched an eyebrow his way. 

Eric sighed and stared at the white marble floor. 

"Please accept my deepest apologies, my Mother." Eric said with his head down as he held together his palms. 

"It's been twelve years, Eric. Why can't you say the Sacred Oath?" 

"I don't know. I mean, I know what it says and what I have to say, but when the words leave my mouth they don't say what I think. I think that is the problem, precisely. They don't convey what I think." 

"Pardon?" she exclaimed. 

Eric's mother came from behind the counter and stared in disbelief at her only son. 

"It doesn't matter what you think, Eric. It's what you were, are, and will be for the rest of your life. The sooner you're able to accept this and stop chasing dreams, the happier you'll be! Actually, the happier we'll all be! " 

"But Mother, we are taught to tell no lies to our superiors, which is why I am not lying to you. I don't want to end up working as a medic like Father for the rest of my life! I want to be what I want to be, not something the government issued our family years ago! I want to work with computers and coding! I want to do something different!" Eric defended. 

"Eric that profession doesn't even exist! There is no place for that dream in this world. The closest thing is being a Programmer for the Military." Eric's mother pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Then I want to be in the Military Elite! If that's what it takes, then I'll do it! I was born looking different, that's a pretty clear sign I'm not cut out for this grey society!" 

Eric's mother gasped and the front door opened and closed as Eric's father's voice resounded through the house:

"I'm home!"

As soon as Eric's father entered the kitchen, his Mother delivered the alarming news. 

"Harold! Do you know what your son is saying?" she shouted and pointed at Eric. 

"What is he saying, Grace?" his father said in confusion.

"Repeat it to your father, Eric!"

"I-I just . . . I don't want to be the same as everyone in this elite, I'm different. I want to be able to show I'm different. I want to choose the life I want to lead." Eric said. 

"Eric, we've talked about this before. You are not different. You're the same as everyone in this faction. You are no more, no less. We're all equal, there is no need to stand out." Eric's father said sternly.

"But I--"

"I don't want to hear about this nonsense anymore, Eric!" Grace shouted at her son and walked away.

Eric was so different, yet he was forced to live in symbiosis with the rest of the Commoners. Eric continued down the hall and took a left. He opened the door and stepped in his room, which looked just as boring as all the rooms in the house. He didn't understand the obsession with equality everyone had in the Isolone. Every single being seemed to be happy living a dull life. But he wasn't happy living as a background character.