As a child

As a child, he'd always been told dolls were for girls

(James Davies)

James Davies had never understood why his parents counted certain sectors of the toy store off-limits. Such had he never understood why it mattered so much whether he'd play with trucks or dolls, why blue was for boys and why pink was for girls. It only caused drama, James knew, having plenty of girl friends that hated pink and dolls for this exact reason.

    But why was society so set on separating boys and girls?

    Why did society want them to turn into mirror images of each other, but only if they shared genital structure?

    He didn't know, and didn't know if he'd want to know, for fear of turning into his parents. His father, to be precise, returning to the sex thing.

    Beneath his bed were two boxes, hidden from his parents' eyes. He had traded with his girl friends for their dolls while telling his parents he had conveniently lost his trucks.

    "We have to do the same," his friends had told him sorrowfully when he had enclosed his secret to them, age 12.

    "Parents are stupid," he had muttered angrily, the three girls and one other boy agreeing.

    "I had to hide this piece of fabric," Fay had told the group, pointing to a blue butterfly clip in her hair. "It's a 'girl' thing, but it's blue, and they don't like that."

    They had continued to name the things they didn't like about the society they lived in, once again not noticing the cameras in every corner of every room, spying on them as if they were—

    "How are the experiments doing?" Christine Davies, actual name Maria Vay, asked as she entered her husband's study. Lines of screens showing every corner of James' world hid the wall from sight. John Davies, actual name Sean Port, sat in his office chair, watching their fake child navigate their fake world.

    Sean turned to Maria, frowning with doubt. "I can't say, they're still so young," he said, standing up to give Maria a hug. She sank into his arms, fighting back sobs.

    "I hope they figure it out soon," she whispered honestly.

    "So do I, my love," Sean whispered back, eyes stinging. "Only the kids can save us from this hell."

    "As long as they keep fighting back against the horror of that fake, exaggerated society, there is hope."

    Sean looked at the ceiling, one tear rolling down his paled cheek, almost white from sitting inside all day, every day.

    "We're fighting for a future we will never see," he confessed.

    "As long as there is one, I'm happy."

    Sean smiled, kissing Maria's forehead softly.

    "Then smile, my love."