DECEMBER SEVENTEEN
ZACHARIAS MATTEO
PLANET EARTH
YEAR 2115
Annie was - as his Screen told him - standing outside of Zach’s door.
“Annie Eileen O’Connor asks for permission to enter the room,” it said. “Annie Eileen O’Connor asks for permission to enter the room. Annie Eileen O’Connor asks for permission to enter the room. Annie Eileen O’Connor-”
“Microphone,” Zach ordered the Screen, then yelled into it; “Give it a break!”
He watched the screen on the door. She was yelling something back, but he had turned her microphone off. He could see her, but she couldn’t see him. She could hear him, but he couldn’t hear her.
It seemed as she had figured this out, since she started pressing her fingerprint to the scanner on his door again.
“Annie Eileen O’Connor asks for permission to enter the room. Annie Eileen O’Connor asks for permission-”
“STOP IT!” he yelled. Then sighed, gave up, turned her microphone on and asked, “what do you want?”
“Oh finally,” she said. “Let me in.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to speak to you!”
“Do you?” he said. “Or are you just acting mailman for my father as usual?”
“What’s a maymen?” she looked sincerely confused, then seemed to decide it didn’t matter. “Zacharias, I really need to speak to you, it’s important.”
He considered turning all the room’s systems of, and just let her stay outside and yell all that she wanted, but came to the conclusion that he had nothing better to do anyway.
He let her in.
“Thank you,” she said irritably.
He didn’t reply. Just eyed her up and down. “What do you want?”
“Well,” she said, lingering at the doorway. “I saw you talking with that woman yesterday, and I just have to warn you-”
“For what?” he asked sharply, mockingly. “Her? What do you think she’s going to do? Eat me alive?”
“No.” If he had said the same thing 15 years ago, Annie might had cracked a smile, but she had grown to become cold. “But I wouldn’t trust her if I were you. She was disrespectful, broke the dressing code and everything. I don’t think she’s on our side.”
Zach, who had been sitting at a stool in the middle of his room, now rose harshly from his seat.
“Our side of what exactly? Our side of the townsline that separates the rich from the poor?”
Annie backed a few steps.
“There’s no need for getting all aggressive,” she said. “I’m just saying that you should be careful, she might be one of the Rebels.”
“Oh and how terrible wouldn't that be?” Zach just smirked at her.
“It was the Rebels rioting that killed my mom 15 years ago, if you remember!”
He took another few steps towards her. “BUT IT WASN’T! She died of the plague! When will you get that into your worthless little brain? My father have brainwashed you to turn you into his little lapdog!”
Zach could tell she was about to ask what a lapdog ment, but quickly changed her mind.
“Your father has nothing to do with this!” she yelled.
“Oh but he has!” he yelled back. “Now get out!”
She did as told, left, probably to go tell his father about it.
“Window,” Zach ordered his screen, which turned transparent and reviled a snowy landscape.
A snowy landscape that wan’t in fact snow at all. Just chemicals.
