Run The City

Chapter 2

I stand up reluctantly and make my way over to a cracked mirror that leans against the wall. I glance briefly at my reflection. A girl with curly black hair, crystal blue eyes, dark skin, and a thin frame peers back at me. My cat, Nakia, rubs up against my leg and purrs. I smile. Most people don't have the time or money to keep animals, mostly because they spend all of their time and money on euphoria to please themselves and the government. I try to use just enough euphoria to deflect government suspicion, so I have enough means to feed someone else.

I decide on my way across the room that the streets are worth risking. My need for more food is simply too high , and the heat will be unbearable for the next few days. The climate is never the same day to day, global warming caused a lot of unresolvable environmental issues. Because of the mistakes of our ancestors, we just have to live with the unreliable climate now. That goes for many things.

I creep carefully down the rotting wooden stairs, carefully avoiding the gaping hole in the middle of the third step. My eyes dart across the alleyway, but it seems to be vacant. Good. I wear mostly black, especially when going out at night. It's better to blend in to avoid getting mugged. I continue walking until I reach the end of the alley.

I emerge from the alleyway and into the city. I drift over to the left side of the street and walk in a straight line, making sure to keep my head held down so that the cameras, not-so-discreetly placed on the street corners, can't pick up my facial features. The bright, alluring lights of the city beckon me. I am used to ignoring the fluorescent lights and the giant screens that only show government propaganda and seem to fill every available space, so this isn't difficult.

Everything looks artificial, there is not a tree or blade of grass in sight. The only living, breathing things are human beings, some of which can not be even called that. Many people here are GMSBs , which is short for genetically modified superior beings. They look like normal people except their eyes turn bright blue when they become provoked. These "people" are at least 40 percent artificial and one hundred percent dangerous. I once saw two men yelling at each other on the street, their voices gradually increasing in volume and intensity. Several people had stopped to watch. All of the sudden, one man was on the ground, bleeding out with a bullet just below his rib cage, and the other was halfway down the street, never to be seen again. It seemed to happen in a moment. Staying away from GMSBs is a basic rule for life here.

But I am not just wary of them. I hate them. They don't deserve to take up any more oxygen from this hellhole. They are less than human, serving the government because the government offers them luxuries like extra rations and a constant supply euphoria, that normal people could never afford, in exchange for massacring innocent people. Not that they care. Normal people are beneath them, of course, the unenhanced commoners could never be equal to such superior beings.

Of the many murders these monsters are responsible for, I have witnessed just one that changed my worldview forever.

My Father.

My father was a good man. He always cared for me, although he was never quite the same after my Mother died. She died when I was ten, and he was left alone to provide for me. He always told me that I didn't have to trust what the government told us, but not to speak of our opinions either way. Keep your head down at school, so your work, and don't talk to anyone unless you absolutely have to.

One night, I came down the stairs to see a group of men and women gathered at the worn table. They appeared to be working over a map. I didn't know what they were doing then, but as I grew older I realized that my Father was the leader of a group known as "The Outliers." These people do anything and everything to quietly overthrow the government. They want non-GMSB to "take care of" GMSB's, and revert back to the time where everyone was a hundred percent human. We have been taught in school that these people were to be stopped at all costs. I tell myself my father was still a good man, and try to hold on to all the good memories of him.

One night, after one of these work "meetings" that I was supposed to know nothing about, a heated argument about the group's next move took place. The argument was so loud that it could be heard on the streets, something the society worked so hard to prevent. I thought nothing of the sudden silence after the arguments. It simply seemed as if the meeting was over and the members had made their way home. When I finally descended the stairs, I was overcome by horror. The door was open, and each council member remained in their chairs, a bulletin hole clean through the center of their forehead, including my father. The bullet holes were so exact, precise. They could be only the work of a GMSB.

Since I had no mother I had nowhere to go. The government had given up the adoption system long ago, deeming it worthless and too expensive. Orphan children, carefully fended for themselves, or were shot for sport on the streets.

It makes sense that the government would encourage people to be more artificial. The government tries to keep us as far away from nature as it "encourages thinking apart from our national values." That is a sugar coated way of saying "nature encourages you to think freely". Basically, they are trying to prevent uprisings against the government. That's the purpose of euphoria and all the restrictions on us. Because if they can keep us all with the same mentality, all too scared to act for ourselves, to think for ourselves, and well entertained, then we can be controlled, and the government can make laws that would have never been legal in Old America. The Old America, however, is long dead, for nearly a hundred years now.

A loud beep from a nearby transport startled me out of my thoughts. I am suddenly aware of the passing time, so I increase my walking speed and continue deeper into the city toward my destination.