Interaction [Dreamnotfound]

1 | Announcement

A/N

So here's a chapter. George and Clay included in this one. Some Skephalo coming up next chapter as well :)

Enjoy!

Cas

It was raining outside.

George could hear the soft pattering of droplets on his window, high up in his lonely flat in the center of London.

It was Saturday, the only good day, in his opinion. George pulled back the blinds and was greeted with the familiar sight of a gray sky, slightly obscured by the water flowing down his windowpane.

It was a normal sight, for where George lived. He squinted down at the empty streets and sighed. The rain didn't matter much - he didn't usually go outside anyways - but the lack of light in his flat made the surroundings seem rather gloomy.

By this time, his flat was usually filled with light, being around 1:00 pm when he was required to wake up. The missing friendliness his flat usually carried was a strange difference, and not one that George particularly liked.

George stepped away from the window, leaving the blinds open, and reached for his phone, wincing slightly as the black silicone band he wore rubbed slightly against his wrist. He hadn't quite gotten used to it after the government had introduced them a few months ago.

They were meant to help, they said. A confirmed, strict lifestyle that everyone would lead.

George didn't quite get why.

He picked at the band for a moment, and then turned to his phone once more. No notifications, of course. But something caught his eye.

In the center of the screen, against the required black background, a small, digital printed envelope was displayed.

A new announcement. When had the last one of those been posted? The government was so confusing these days.

Frowning, George swiped up and began to read the robotized text displayed on the screen. As he did, his eyes widened.

Halfway across the world, another was about to do the same.

Clay was just beginning to wake up.

It was a hot day in central Florida, and rather humid, as it was September and quickly approaching October. Of course, it was precisely 8:00 am - the time everyone in Clay's district was required to wake up.

The vibrating band on his wrist grew slightly stronger, an everlasting reminder that it was time to get up. It wouldn't stop until his heart rate elevated enough to signal that he had gotten out of bed.

Clay groaned, swiping mindlessly at the band, and groggily sat up on his bed. The sunlight was bright, almost unbearably so, and considering his exposed window was right next to his bed, it wasn't the greatest way to wake up.

Thankfully, his band sensed that he was no longer sleeping, and shut off automatically. Clay let out a sigh of relief and grabbed his phone off his white desk next to his window, as per usual. He imputed the standard phone password everyone was required to use, simply "password10" for the month of September, and watched as his phone unlocked, revealing the usual black screen.

But something was different.

Against his black screen, in stark contrast, a digital envelope was displayed.

A new announcement. When had the last one of those been posted? The government was so confusing these days.

Clay tapped on the screen, opening the announcement, and briefly scrolled through. His eyes flashed over the text. Interact... forbidden... tests - wait. Tests?

Moving his finger up the page, Clay's eyes widened. Tests. More of them.

The government tested 10 subjects every month, Clay knew this. But this announcement clarified that the tests had been moved closer together.

They were now two weeks apart. Twice a month.

Clay inhaled, trying to stay calm, and closed the announcement, shutting his eyes briefly to block out the blinding sunlight streaming through the window next to him. He leaned against the counter, taking deep breaths in a futile attempt to stall his now rapid heartbeat.

Clay's wristband beeped loudly, alerting him of his elevated heart rate, and he winced. He clamped his hands over his ears, but not just because of the beeping.

It was an extremely small chance of getting picked, with just ten out of the millions - no, billions of people - getting chosen every month. Even with the new increase in numbers, it wasn't likely that he would become a victim - no, a subject. Not a victim.

But he couldn't keep the thoughts out of his head.

The look on his father's face. The screaming. The torturous sounds that felt like they lasted the whole night.

His mother's screams.

No. No.

Clay inhaled sharply, forcing his eyes open, shaking his head in another attempt to clear the thousands of thoughts, memories, racing through his head at an alarming rate. He took an unsteady step away from the counter and looked to the window.

It was a sunny day. He had lots to get done.