Ugana

Chapter 1

Every morning I awake at 4:30am. There are no alarms, they're seldom needed by anyone. Studies have shown alarms to cause stress, anxiety and hinder sleep progressions. Instead, each sleep room is equipped with a synthetic sunrise. It begins as we sleep, while the sky is still dark, and slowly changes our room from night to day allowing for a natural and stress free emergence. When I wake, the first thing I do is open my closet, pulling from it one of the seven predetermined outfits hanging inside; knee length white skirt, white button up blouse with the red ribbon tied around the collar, bow resting right above the top button, white stockings and white shoes that buckle on the side. This is an easy task; eliminating variance allows for efficiency.

Once my outfit has been retrieved, I shower. There is only one shower in each home and so we shower quickly, from youngest to oldest. Sara, my sister, is 6 and so she is always first. Then myself, my brother John, my mother Diane and my father Tom. Each of us must be out of the house by 6:00am in order to make it to our destinations on time, and so mornings must run as smoothly as possible. After I shower and change, I make my way to the kitchen. There is no need to decide what I will have for breakfast, the Clinic does this extra work for us, allowing us to navigate our meals without wasting time and energy. Each week we are evaluated, at work or school, by clinic health officials in order to maintain optimal health and fitness. They screen us for any infections and calculate our body mass. A healthy body is a healthy mind. There is no such thing as obesity anymore- our doctors have eliminated that disease. They enter their calculations into their tablets and generate our health plans for the next week which will include recreational time, exercise and calorie/vitamin intake. These are sent to the Meal Preparation Centers where the workers assemble premade meals for us before they are delivered to our local distribution center by household to be picked up. In addition to this, we are each given a punch card each week with an allotted number of free choices. This means that we can enter the fresh market and trade a punch for an apple, banana or other item not included in our meals. Not everyone does this- it usually means more exercise the following week- and the choices are difficult. Choices are stressful. After we eat we gather our necessary items; books, tools, umbrellas, anything we might need for the day and leave the house together. We walk down the sidewalk and my parents and John turn right, Sara and I left.

Each morning we walk along the wall on our way to the education facility. You can get there faster if you go through town, a straight shot, but Sara enjoys picking the flowers and I figure the extra exercise could only do us good. The wall looms above us, a sign of protection and I wonder if you could touch the clouds from the top. Its metal, smooth, and high above our head there are walkways running along it but they're always empty. They used to be for the watchers- to make sure no one infiltrated us from the outside, but no one comes anymore. In our history books we read about large groups of people sneaking in and stealing our citizens, pulling them out beyond the wall and into the abyss. They're usually killed shortly after- they see it as vengeance for what they don't understand- what they never did- we are not the bad guys. Because of this, no one used to come to the wall unless they were fielded here, gun at their hip, guarding us from the barbarians. Now, not even the watchers come anymore. Still, I enjoy it. Its old and forgotten and beautiful and when the sun hits it just right, tiny stars bounce off the hard surface into the green grass, dancing as you walk through.

In the distance, Sara is sitting on the ground surrounded by white and yellow flowers, blonde hair falling loose around her face. Sometimes when the sun is out it shimmers like gold. Today there is no sun. The clouds are dark and moving fast. It's time to go.

"Sara, we need to move. Rain will come soon."

She rises to her feet, pulling her bag back to her shoulder and waiting for me to reach her. Her skirt is crumpled and discolored from the ground she sat on, and I brush her off as best I can before we start walking. You must always appear well groomed and clean. A clean outside makes for a clean inside.