Dystopia

Chapter 2

South to the main area where the Commoners lived, resided the run down faction of the Undesired Elite. The suburb was poor and all of it was made of plain concrete. This was the Undesired Elite, why would the Governing Elite invest in this part of their society? Here, the Governing Elite dumped all the children that, at the Choosing Ceremony, were born with disabilities. Be it impaired communication, impaired vision, lack of strength, or simply not born with the desired weight, these type of children were doomed to live in poverty with no hope to ever move up the social classes. 

These children didn't study. The only way they could was if they were deemed righteous of it. For example, a child sent here because he was below one ounce the desired weight to be considered a Commoner could acquire knowledge if he proved to the Mentors of the Commoner Elite he was capable of learning. 

But that wasn't the case for Oliver-4. 

Oliver-4 is a hopeless child. He was born with an impairment, rare in this time because of the genetic manipulation most fetuses went through, but somewhat common in the Ancient Times. His impairment caused him to have little social interaction, poor eye contact, compulsive behavior, impulses, and repetitive movements. Not only did he bear this ailment, but his vocal cords were never strong enough to speak. 

Oliver could not attend school. He had no parents, like all the other children in the Undesired Elite. In turn, they were taken care of by the Caretakers of the orphanage. 

As all the other children ran and played outside, Oliver was inside his room in the third floor. He was a fourteen year old, and like the rest, he had brown hair, the same height, and the same everything. Except his eyes, instead of being the normal color brown, they were a cloudy sky color. Ashy eyes that could never meet another set of eyes. He sat crossed legged on his small bed as he stared out the window. He did this most of the time, just stare at the rest of the children, but no one would ever know what he thought as he couldn't speak.

"Oliver-4, it's time for your medication." a Caretaker said in a bored tone as she opened the door to Oliver's room. 

Oliver didn't turn to see her. He simply stared at the front yard.

"Give me your hand." 

Oliver shook his head. The Caretaker reached for his hand to pull it towards her and Oliver squealed with frustration and retracted his arm. Annoyed, the Caretaker forced the teen to look at her as she shoved the small pill inside his mouth. Forced to, Oliver swallowed the pill as his face turned red with irk. He couldn't understand why they received medication, it's not like it would make them better. More than likely, it was a placebo. A false sense that the Governing Elite still cared about them. 

The Caretaker left and Oliver kept his glare to the floor. He kept his deep frown on his face, and turned to staring at the children running outside again. 

His room was made of cement, and the only articles to be inside these four walls were his bed, a wardrobe, and a nightstand. A bell rung and Oliver covered his ears. The children outside went back into the building of the orphanage to eat dinner. Oliver decided to skip dinner and left his room. Once out in the hall, he ran down the three staircases and when he was about to run outside through the front door, a Caretaker saw him and ran to catch him. Swiftly, Oliver opened the heavy wooden door and ran outside into the cloudy evening.

Once he felt he was far enough, he stopped in the middle of the woods to look at the orphanage. High and mighty, with different towers, and the highest one having a bell. The front door opened and the Caretaker came out. Oliver ducked behind a bush, but the gigantic cross with a man in it stole his attention from the small figure of the Caretaker. Oliver shook his head and returned his glare to the Caretaker, who ran a hand through her face and went back inside. A thunder clap echoed through the woods and Oliver yelped. 

He ran deeper into the woods. As he grew tired, he slowed down and tiny droplets of rain begin to hit the soil beneath his feet. His grey over-sized shirt started to absorb the precipitation, but his grey pants and shoes kept him warm. Oliver looked at the blinding sky and spotted two birds flying. He smiled at the flying birds, he hoped that one day he could fly freely like the two critters. 

Nobody but the children of the Undesired knew what life was in this meager region. They meant nothing to anyone. They were so meaningless that every so often, the Military Elite would pick out random children to be used as fire arm targets to train their soldiers. Perhaps Oliver was mute, and by his society's standards, useless. But Oliver-4 was so much more than meets the eye.