"The Procedure is life altering, and will make you clean. The Procedure has no reverse, and no adverse affects. The Procedure is truly a cure all." The Book Of Knowledge (Pg 752)
My palms sweat, disobeying Ty for Evelyn is one thing. In my head it's one thing, anyways. I know I'd do anything for her, my heart knows I would do anything for her. My brain stresses with practicality. If we get caught, we're beyond in trouble. I'm beyond in trouble, Evelyn has no record, she's just the president's ridiculous daughter. She could never be in the same trouble that I surely will be in, but if she doesn't follow through... Ty will kill her. I know it. He hasn't said it to me, but anyone that doesn't stand with him will be seen as standing against him. My tasks are quickly forgotten, as I burst into the room.
Evelyn stands, my beautiful firecracker with her red hair, and the light shining fearfully in her eyes. She is so much more than I can explain. I love her. Evelyn stands feet spread like they're supposed to be, her hands on the gun firmly staring at her father, I can see her hands shaking but I'm sure no one else would notice the slight movements. In a flash the gun is out of her hand, and bang bang bang. The kick is familiar, but the blood splatter that comes after isn't. I feel sick to my stomach. A shuffle sounds, and I have no time to fight. Everything is dark.
In my dream, Evelyn is kissing me in a way that shouldn't be legal. Her red hair is a sea surrounding us, we are drowning in her beautiful red locks. Her lips are soft and find every crevice of my body tip tapping around. In my dream, she rips my heart out, beating in her hand blood drips down her wrist slowly. She smiles, and takes a bite out of it like a fresh juicy apple. Blood stains her pale beautiful face, and I am terrified. I am alive. I am alive. I am not the same.
The room I wake in is overly sterile. Everything is muted, and my strange dream fades away. There's a small pulsing in my head that I can't exactly locate, but it hurts. Bright lights shine on a blue hospital gown. Something is different. I try to concetrate on the dream, but I can't. The feelings are too far away, everything seems a little distant...
YOU ARE READING
Domesticated America
Teen FictionDystopian fiction written in the point of view of a young rebel boy, and the president's daughter. At the age of eighteen a surgical procedure is performed on all citizens to drive out "internal chaos" as a preventative action for avoiding rebellion...
