Coded.

Chapter One.

“They are going to ask you for your code,” she tells me.
“I know mom; don’t I need mine updated?” I wink. She stares blankly at me momentarily, her eyes glossy.
    “Are you okay mom?” I ask.
“Don’t worry about it,” she replies.
“Be very careful darling, if you get discovered…” I cut her off.
“I’ll be just fine mom,” I answer, and with that; she pushes me outside. I briefly look at her, her eyes slightly amber as the morning beams stroke her face. It makes me hate my father for not loving her as well as he could’ve. She is gorgeous, her hair framing her face; and not nearly looking the age she’s assigned.
“I love you, take care of your sister okay?”
“Okay,” I respond. The truth is we’d take care of each other. Adaline and I can and always would care for each other. After all, it’s a sister thing.
A door slams and she turns back; only to meet her final seconds of life...
    “Go. Now.” she is speaking to us but staring down her attacker. I nod and whisper to Adaline.
“Move it, I’ll explain later,” She’s terrified, it’s not hard to tell but I need her to remain silent.
The footsteps linger closer so we run faster cutting through backyards; running until we can’t. I’m certain I lost him but i’m not quite sure if they’d let the dogs out. It’s only a matter of time and now this is no longer manhunt.
    “Okay Adaline,” I say. “When we get to the border put your contacts in since you aren’t old enough for your code.” She nods and puts them in covering blue eyes in a coat of amber.
    “What do you see?” I ask.
    “The usual.” She responds. “Memories, Identities, and job descriptions.” I laugh,
“A life?” She nods. “Exactly.”
    “Code?” Adaline steps forward looking up at him. He scans her eyes, and taps the screen. “Pardon me” he sighs, “It’s a bit feisty.” He slaps the screen again and lets her through.
He takes my code and scans me, his finger caressing the scan; I try my best not to show any fear but all he has to do is rub my code and i’m dead. Nevertheless he runs my code yet again and i’m in. I make my way over to the board.
    “Cell 49” I say, not to anyone in particular though. Just talking to myself.
I climb the broken ladder, I can safely say the technology is the same. At least here…. In prison.
    “Hey bug!” Dad yells waving me over. He gets up from the bed and casually makes his way over to me.
    “Anything good?” He asks. I nod and hand him a juicy red delicious. I honestly am quite jealous of him, he gets the good food I worked for. Ironic isn’t it?
He bites into the apple and starts to laugh.
    “Why I haven’t had an apple in two years!” He smiles and his smile vanishes.
“Where did you get this? Apples are extremely expensive…”
“I paid for it with the money I earned.” I scoff. He sighs.
“Good Kid, Don’t end up like me.” Tears well up in his eyes and a single tear escapes, it rolls down his cheek softly.
“You didn’t do any wrong dad! You tried to feed us, something mom couldn’t do.”
    “Yes kid I know” he responds. “But unfortunately they don’t see it like that.” He knows it upsets me, what he did so he changes the subject.
“So how’s your mom?” He asks.
“She’s there, working her ass of to put food on the table.” He looks at me turning red, he’s embarrassed. Good. Because he doesn’t know that I realize how he treated mom. She’d go to the ends of the earth for him, and he? He’d go get drunk in a bar, and find some girl to hook up with. I talk to him as a friend, not as a father.
“And you?” He interrupts my thoughts. “Did you get your code yet?”
“Yes.” I lie. They want nothing to do with the uncoded, if dad found out he’d lose it. But if I did get my code; I couldn’t live. They would recognize my mind is tainted, and i’m not a transparent person they could control. They did not instill an identity in me, nor a future with a spouse, or kids. If they could learn to live with that they couldn’t live with my real reason for not being coded.
If I cut myself and it won’t heal, hypothetically if I was sick; i’d die. I’ve read books on diseases, medicines, and our ancestors. I am the one of the few they would call “human.”  This one book told me the true definition of human. “Human:  (noun): To have flaws.”
“Can I see it?” Once again my dad breaks me out of my train of thoughts, but I nod and hold out my arm. He thumbs my “code” from inside the cell.
    “Beautiful.” He responds. “This code will get you far.”
“Thanks” I smile and he nods.
“Thanks for the chat kid, it gets a bit lonely up here.” His voice is delicate at this point.
“It’s a bit lonely at home.” I respond, I gulp and think about the gunshot.
“I’d bet, is your mother still on benefits?” he asks.
“Not anymore, she was declined another year.” “You’re kidding!” I sigh, he’s thoroughly pissed, and rightfully so.
“Your poor mother! I wish I could help her.” He insists.
“You can’t.” I snap, my voice cracks. He looks flustered but I just shrug it off.
“You just focus on serving your sentence.” The buzzer rings, signifying my departure.
“I love you bug.” He smiles, and walks back to the cell.
“Goodbye.” I turn my back my expression blank. I make my way down the hall, the chambered darkness surrounds me; like the prisons is saying I should be here as well. Because the uncoded are moral less, and should not live amongst the coded. “They’d start a rebellion, an outrage.” If this code doesn’t possess my memories, tell me when to talk, to breathe; If it doesn’t dominate my entire being. Then I deserve to live in a jail cell, to rot away, given the most punishable treatment that even death itself is afraid of. Torture.
Most girls in my history textbooks wanted to fit in, (or so they say.) That behavior is what started the “coded” foundation, and now there is no choice. I have to fit in, or it’ll cost me more than my pride or my dignity; it’ll cost me my life.