"Donna!" a voice hollered from who-knows-where. It startled me to the point that I almost fell off of the branch I was sitting on. I returned my slingshot to my pocket.
"What is it, Mother?" I muffled my voice slightly to give the effect I was further in the garden.
"Donna, darling, where are you? We have to get ready for the Gathering, remember?"
I peeked through a gap in the fake leaves to see her standing on our porch about 30 feet away. Even though the tree I had just climbed up was fake, the bark was realistic and could scratch you easily. Scientists have created plastic trees that required no water and still gave off oxygen. Barely anyone grew real trees anymore. They were a waste of water. And water was a scarce natural resource.
"Um... I'm just taking a stroll, Mother!" I replied quickly.
"That's alright, Donna, you can do that later. Now come over here, wherever you are."
"I'm on my way!" I told her. I glanced through the leaves. She retreated back into our home. If she saw what I was doing I would get scolded big time. Climbing trees was "unladylike" and I could even get in some trouble with the Government if Mother told them what I was doing to their engineered property. I carefully made my way down the tree and made sure I didn't get any scratches on my body. Every single scratch and bug bite would be revealed during the Gathering, where Mother made me wear a dress. Luckily, she wasn't one of those mothers that dressed their daughters provocatively. She was pretty lenient on that fact.
My feet landed on the genetic grass with a soft thud. The last time I saw real grass was in the town botanical garden. Real grass would be too expensive to upkeep because of the water it required, not to mention its upkeep. Mowers ran on gasoline, which was thirteen dollars per gallon, and most of them currently rusted in some retired people's garages. With synthetic plastic grass, it stayed the same length all year. Grandmother always tells me about real grass. It sounds like a terrific thing.
I looked around to make sure no one saw me. The coast was clear. I slid my slingshot underneath the fake shrubbery where I always hid it. I walked up the stairs to my porch and walked inside.
I saw Ava making pancakes in the kitchen so I walked over to see if I could help. Mother despises Ava and treats her like dirt. She's very prejudice towards the Lows. Lows are considered outcasts in society. They're usually people with extreme flaws or no children. They serve people in my social class as servants and housekeepers for low pay. Ava does more work around the house in one week than Mother has done in her entire lifetime. Ava is one of the most influential women I know... I think I'm closer with her than my mother.
Ava is considered a 'Low' because she doesn't have a husband or any genetically altered children. The Government's heart is set on making a perfect population, or blonde girls with bright eyes and athletic boys with handsome faces. The more your children fit these typecasts, the more you get paid. If any person refuses to get married or have children then they are sent to live in the Low community. Although there is only a handful of them, there are always enough to serve the higher social classes.
My father works two jobs to get higher pay. He does not earn maximum earnings because he does not meet government expectations looks wise. His dull brown eyes and equally plain brown hair ,may not scream "supermodel", but he manages to make it big in the science field working for the Government. He may not look very special in the eyes of many, but I love him regardless.
When I was little, people always looked at me funny. I had one distinctly brown eye after my father and one icy blue eye after my mother. The Government probably took one look at me and told my parents they screwed up big-time, and that their pays were going to get lowered. Luckily, my father was a full-time respected scientist at the time and somehow managed to increase our pay greatly. I still don't know how he pulled that off. I'm pretty much a walking genetic malfunction.
YOU ARE READING
The Future isn't Bright
Science FictionA choice, a desire, a new world; all of these are faced by Donna, a teenage outcast in a world beyond anyone's wildest dreams.