The World of Tomorrow

Chapter Four

I wake up the next morning with a cloud of despair raining on my head. Tomorrow. I'm leaving Future tomorrow. How could that have slipped my mind? Between Thanksgiving and Anza's nagging I must've...I don't know. I shift in my bed, so that I'm facing the ceiling. I'm awake, but I haven't opened my eyes yet. I'm almost afraid to, as if opening them will make tomorrow arrive that much faster. I let my thoughts linger on that, and keep my eyes shut. It isn't until Anza comes banging at my door that I smell lilacs.
"Jibe! How many times am I going to have to wake you up? This is getting really old!" She shouts.
"It's been getting old for thirteen years, Anza." I shout back. Anza's been waking me up since the day she was born.
I laugh to myself, remembering the crazy few years when Anza couldn't make it eight hours without screaming. My laughter fades as I realize that I'm going to miss it. Anza's yelling, screaming, loud existence is something I'll miss. I wish she could keep waking me up. I wish it would continue getting old for fourteen years, or fifteen, or twenty. The small sunspot that had shone through my despair cloud is covered again, and my world grays.
I slowly sit up in bed and roll over the side, my feet hitting the carpet. It feels so much softer now. I trudge over to my closet and push around a few hangers before ultimately picking the same thing I wore yesterday, which is strewn about on the floor. I pull on the clothes and turn the cool brass knob on my bedroom door. A small rush of air hits my face as the door swings open, and I step outside. Anza is waiting, her black hair pulled into a messy bun. She's wearing her usual grey hoodie and jeans, and the too-long sleeves hide her hands. She rolls her eyes at my entrance, and starts to turn and walk down the stairs.
"Wait, Anza." I call, not really sure what I'm telling her to wait for.
"What?" Comes her snarky response.
I pause for a second, and then I walk over to her. I see her become wary as I draw near, but I keep going. When I reach her, I do one thing. I hug her. I guess I'm in a hugging mood lately, but that's what I do. I put my arms around her shoulders and I hug her. She stiffens before slowly patting me on my back.
"You okay, buddy?" Her voice is sarcastic, but there's a hint of worry. I nod and release her.
She nods once, I don't think either of us know what for, and turns, walking down the stairs. I follow her. I guess my situation calls for a bit of unexpected sibling love.
I'm about to follow Anza into the kitchen for breakfast, but before I do, she turns to me and says. "Oh, by the way, Mom and Dad wanted to talk to you."
I expected it, I guess. They know what's going to happen tomorrow. I turn away from the kitchen and head twined the living room, where they'll probably be. As I walk into the spacious room, I prove myself right by finding Mom in her large, plushy, magenta colored armchair, and Dad right next to her in his tan recliner. Moms chair is my favorite chair in the whole house. It's soft, you sink right into it when you sit down, but it's also slightly springy. Also, the color smells like sugared plums, which is the best smell in the world. Today, though, much like Mickey's door yesterday, the plum scent is faraway, it's just barely there. Everything been like that today. Every smell is sedated, everything going on in my head is quieter.
"Hey, honey!" She acts animated and happy, but her eyes tell a story of heartbreak. "Big day tomorrow, huh? Eighteen! You'll be an adult, you'll be old enough to live on your-" she chokes through her mask of happiness. "-own."
I walk over and hug her. I'm going to be hugging the sky, just for the fun of it, if I keep going like this. My dad stands up and wraps his arms around both of us, securing us in one embrace. My mom suddenly breaks down in sobs. "I'm sorry, Jibe, I'm so, so sorry." She whispers. "Don't leave me, please."
"Mom, it's okay. I'm here, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." I hug her tighter, I never want to let her go. I wish we could stay like this forever, and never change. I know that's impossible, though, so I do let go. My shirt is tear stained, but I don't care. Anza walks into the living room and sees us, Mom in tears, Dad with his arms still wrapped around me, and kneels beside my mom.
"What's happening? Why is mom crying?" She demands answers.
"Anza, honey, you know about Jibe? How he can smell colors?" Dad asks softly.
"Yeah, it's called synesthesia, it's a disease that confuses the senses. So what?" Anza is only thirteen, and while she knows what things are, she doesn't know what things mean.
"Well, like you said: it's a disease, and that's not a good thing. The higher ups in charge of all of Future don't like it when someone has a disease. It means more people can get the disease, and eventually all of Future might be infected." Dad does his best to explain.
"But synesthesia isn't contagious. And it would take a long time for all of Future to get infected with a genetic disease." Anza can't  grasp what my father is trying to say.
"I know, but it's still possible. And they don't like that. So, tomorrow, when he turns eighteen, Jibe will be a legal adult, and he won't be allowed to live in Future anymore. Some nice people are going to take him away." My dad tries to make it sound better than it is, but it's not really possible.
"But, I don't want Jibe to go away! He's annoying, but he's still my brother!" Anza raises her voice without meaning to.
"I know, I know you don't. They're just taking him to another city, it's just like another Future, where he will live." I can't believe he just said that. My dad just pulled out a blatant lie. He never does that. But, for Anza's sake, I nod my head.
"Yeah, it's a special city, where people with diseases go. It's like a giant hospital." I tell her, sniffling every once in a while.
"Oh. Can we visit you there?" Anza asks me.
"No, I'm sorry. They don't allow visitors. There's to many sick people inside." My dad says. "But you can write to him. You can write to him all you want."
"Come on." Anza says, standing up. "It's your last day Future. Let's go see a movie!"
We all laugh softly, and we stand up with Anza. My mom dries her eyes, and we pull on shoes and head to the car, Anza talking animatedly about a new movie that came out. I'm not sure if I'll like it. But I don't care.