Who?

The Night Before

Tomorrow is my eighteenth birthday. The day that will determine everything for the rest of my life. The seconds on the wall tick by faster than I can process. In less than 24 hours I will invent myself, form an entire identity. There's a little time to change things, and certain things can always be adjusted but several of the decisions I make will stick for life. And they won't prepare me for it at all. Not a single sliver of information on how those choices are made. 456, or Oliver as he was named last week is sitting next to me illicitly preparing me for tomorrow's trials.

It's against the law for Ollie to tell me anything but he'd never throw me into the deep end if he could help it. His shoulders re covered by the black cotton shirt he's wearing. The tattoo are hidden though I long to reach over and look at the names there. I attempt to refocus my attention on what he's telling me but despite my effort to listen the words are in one ear and out the other. 

"459 pay attention. First tomorrow you'll be escorted to the elders camp. The naming ceremony will take place. Than they'll escort you to the tattoo parlour where you'll get your marks. One name over the other on your shoulder in no particular order. Than they'll take you to positions programming to select a career. That one you can change but there's a lot of paperwork so choose wisely. That's it, they'll kick you out after that. You'll text me your name and Lola and you are going shopping right? No more grey uniforms!" He can't give me much more information because of the nosy barista who's come over to flirt several times. 

Oliver got a car form his aunt for his eighteenth. No more grey school buses for him. I'm allowed to ride in it but I can't own my own until after tomorrow. Same for the music rule, I'm only allowed to listen to 15 songs that me and my classmates are allowed to listen to. To prevent a distaste for someone based on a preferred genre we have 15 extraordinarily similar songs to listen to. 

He pulls up to my house and wishes me luck before driving off and abandoning me on my driveway. My house is astounding. Seven stories tall and on a nice street. There are fruit trees in the yard and I steal an apple on my way up to my room. I barely manage to make it past my parents. Because the house is so large and I'm the youngest to live here I get a lot of space to myself. An entire floor actually. Because interior design would indicate preference building a personality so I'm not allowed on the adult floors which have actual stuff. My floor is government regulated. No color, all grey or cream. The bed has plain grey cotton on a plain metal framework that's identical to every other one in our country. The curtains a plain lighter grey. The entire floor is identical to the rest in the country because it's the law. When you have children you have to pay and have it installed. For some they live on the same floor as the children but the lack of color kills my parents so they built another home that I've never gotten to see. Despite the dreary atmosphere I'm a nervous wreck knowing that tomorrow starts the two week count-down until I have to move out.

Supper was tense at best. Mom cooked literally everything, I think it's because she's sad to see her last child leave the house. A glance around the table has approved foods; but so many. Macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, roast, stew, and three salads. Because tomorrow is my eighteenth my siblings have gathered as well. Lola, the oldest, is her usual fabulous and glowing self. Flawless hair, painted nails, embroidered jeans and a shirt that flows with her movements. She's excited for me, says that shopping is so much fun. I wouldn't know, I don't even know what I like to do. No identity means keeping everyone the same, we all learned piano and practice 45 minutes each day, silent thought time, sports practices, but all the exact same thing every other child here is doing at the exact same time. Grey short and a gray v-neck or grey slacks and a grey v-neck is what I've worn my entire life. The idea of getting to choose, while appealing is also nerve-wracking. Nate is Lola's stunning boyfriend and he looks at her through most of the meal like she hangs the moon. He models clothing and his killer smile and stunning baby blue eyes are gorgeous. 

Seated next to the ravishing couple is Jason. His button down shirt and judgemental attitude are suffocating but he's my brother so there's nothing I can do about that. He left home when I was seven so I don't know him all that well and unlike Lola he doesn't visit home very often. Additionally he's a stickler for the rules, Lola would sneak me out of the house so that we could talk every once in awhile. Nina is his wife, she's pretty and stupid. It would seem that the personality she picked for herself is that of a dishwasher. She takes care of my niece and nephew who are sitting on the grey sofa in the grey living room. I vow that when I get to pick my own space absolutely nothing will be grey.

Seated next to me is Dylan. He's only one year older than me so I'm closest to him. His hair was dyed near black and the clothes that aren't as posh as the rest of the family distinguish him as an outsider. He's mischievous and rebellious and I adore him. Judging by the calm and concerned look in his hazel eyes he knows about the butterflies in my stomach. Or rather the eagle's who are scraping my organs and tearing me to shreds. 

Dinner passes in an uneventful blue and the next thing I know I'm laying bed, looking at my grey ceiling, desperately trying to sleep. Tomorrow is so important. Tomorrow I decide who I am.