Segregation

Chapter 1 *Part 1A*

Cold red brick walls, cement floors, metal doors and barred windows. They were like prisoners. This was supposed to be a place to learn but it became a place of horrors and loath. What ever happened to unity? The word itself seemed to have disappeared along the years of control and segregation. Nations now suffer of control and discomfort. And whoa to those who disobey.

May 22 3120

Object 765X433 stands before the body length mirror of the small, one bedroom apartment she lives in. Her wild curly hair is held in a very sloppy bun at the top of her head, and her shapely frame is somewhat covered in a sleeveless grey, oversized cotton shirt. She turns her back to the mirror and narrows her eyes at the number branded into her milky chocolate skin; 765X433. Her number. 'What does it mean?' She asks herself, itching to know the answer. Just as she is placing her long fingers over the swelling skin, still examining it, the small red warning light in the top of the mirror starts blinking and five seconds later the mirror shuts off.

Sighing, object 765X433 returns to her previous actions erasing no longer active objects from the "existent" books and adding them to the "nonexistent" ones. "Object number; 4-8-6-2-S-5-3 is no longer active." She says into the telegram and watches the number slowly appear on the 794th page of the 257th book of nonexistent objects, just as slowly as it disappears from the 199th book of existent. She felt her stomach turn as she read that number. But why? What does it mean to her? Quietly reading over the number again it finally hit her. With a heart in her stomach and a hand covering her mouth she silently cries. Tears streaming down both of her cheeks. But how? Sniffling and rubbing her eyes, object 765X433 checks her health. She strips from all pieces of clothing and stands in the small class tube located in her tiny bathroom, then clicks the button for it to close. "Check my health." She commands the machine and approximately ten minutes later, after elevating her six inches and spinning her 0.5 miles an hour, she is slowly placed back on the ground and the machine gives her the answer she sought for. "Object 765X433, your health level is; 8.3 percent. You have approximately; 716 days and 5.5 hours to live. Your blood level is: normal. Your heartbeat is: 3.4 seconds faster than normal. Your immune system is: normal. Your hearing is: average. Your sight is: 4 percent better than yesterday..." She blocked out the rest of whatever else the machine had to say. She pondered over the number she'd read and the object who's number it was, person something told her. Not an object but a person. Object 4862S53 hated the way they were called "objects" instead of "people". But 765X433 didn't know any better. "People!" 4862S53 used to scream "We are people!" At least then she didn't, but now she is much smarter. It's from the books. And no, not the books that come from that tiny black chip once you connect it to its base but the other books. The old ones made of paper and ink.

After a long needed shower, 765X433 pats herself dry and redressed herself in the some old torn poor excuse of a shirt. She waits about 45 minutes for the lights to shut off and when they do she flicks her lighter and pulls the rug on her floor back. Hidden there is a loose tile and she carefully lifts it and places it on the floor beside her. Without hesitation 765X433 jumps into the floor and relights her lighter. She walks a little then stops before the stack of old books. Gently guiding her fingers across them she chooses one. "A brief look at history". Object 4862S53 used to talk about this one all of the time and it was, correct me, is, 765X433's favorite. She opens the book to the page where the bookmark was placed and starts where she left off. 
After three hours of  flicking the lighter, flipping pages, taking notes on her skin and excruciating pain in her head, object 765X433 finally marked her page and headed for bed after making sure her little secret room was well hidden. Tomorrow was supposed to be another long day. Different day same routine.

765X433 couldn't sleep. All she kept thinking about was 4862S53. She was supposed to have two more years to live. What happened? Object 765X433 was hurting. She found herself lying in bed with a tear soaked pillow crying uncontrollably at four o'clock in the morning. 4862S53 was like a mother to her; although mothers didn't exist anymore.