Welcome to 2114

A electronic blue light flashed in an otherwise black room.

Light was sealed out, creating the perfect sleeping environment.

However, I hadn't been asleep for the last three hours, despite my best intentions. Restlessness had gotten a hold of me now.

"Lights on," I sighed, sitting up. The room slowly illuminated, the ever-conscious AI system trying to be considerate as it woke me.

There was a time when one person could have a thousand square feet of space, all to themselves. The history books were full of architectural diagrams explaining apartments, house, and mansions. 

I had 70 square feet to my name. I had a desk, bed, and dresser to call my own.

It was the same 70 square feet, desk, bed, and dresser that all of ST-241's passengers had.

"Good morning, Eleanora," a voice sang out. "It is currently seven-oh-five am and the date is June 9th, 2114 according to Universal Standard Time. . ."

I kicked the covers off; it was particularly hot today.

". . .On your schedule today, you have Second Millennium History, followed by lunch with James Austin, and finally Modern Literature. . ."

I sat up, stretching out. My fingers brushed the steel walls.

". . .Shall I play some music while you get ready?"

The ship's computer asked the same question every morning.

"No," I said.

It hesitated at my answer that diverged from my typical response.

"Enjoy your day Eleanora," it commanded.

"No," I whispered.

............

Professor Donovan was a genius trapped in the body of an incapable lecturer.

I hated his class. If it wasn't required, I would've dropped it as soon as I put together that he was a hopeless old man.

Granted, I did have high hopes. His paper on nationalism in the 20th century in Latin American had been an interesting read. But his class was not. Staying awake was a struggle, especially after last night's insomnia.

A message scrolled across my tablet halfway through the class, covering up the bottom half of my notes that were vague at best.

James Austin- Morning gorgeous

Teachers couldn't control what we did on our devices during class. It was an unfortunate dysfunction of the system.

The older I got, the more of those I found.

Eleanora Monroe- Good morning.

I looked back up at Professor Donovan. He was writing a timeline on the board, taking his sweet time with perfecting the loops and lines of his cursive.

James Austin- Whatcha up to?

Eleanora Monroe- Donovan's

James Austin- Regretting that history major yet?

Eleanora Monroe- Where are you taking me to lunch?

James Austin- I'll pick you up from class

That didn't warrant a response. I sat back in my chair, watching the blue light next to the speaker in the wall blink steadily.

.............