Laying In A Bed Of Thornes

1

"Welcome 2 years, you have made it into the Mentally Advanced category of our education system. Congratulations, this means that you should know up to 10 years worth of Mathematics and Literacy. If you can not read this sentence then see your educator to my right after this presentation. I suggest you pay attention, if you can not read the sentence there is still a chance for you to catch up to your year-mates. This is our curriculum for the next two years, after this you may choose your courses that correspond with your interests, and your future help to the community. Welcome, and have a nice day!"

The 2-year introductory audio plays, the loudspeakers that are placed on either side of the school yard blare into my bedroom.

The dorms lined along the school's perimeters are supposed to be soundproof, but I like to use the announcements for an alarm clock.

Today is my dorm-room's turn to plug in the solar power cords, this task usually takes an hour so I get up and climb onto the roof to get started. One by one I get a few of the dozens of rows of cords plugged into their generators.

As my dorm-mates slowly awaken and start to help me finish, I peer over the edge at the few kids that couldn't read the mandatory sentence. It's a shame, they'd have to graduate after the kids that just walked into the school if they don't catch up. This obviously rarely happens, the educators are very good at their jobs.

I was nearly late to graduating with my class, but luckily at the end of the 10th year there is a small amount of time that they go on a trip to see Tree-land, I caught up during that time.

I am a survivalist, my part in the community is to check mechanical food deliveries, install solar panels and repair messed up mechanical systems. My job year limit is 50, there obviously is the 10 education years before hand and the 10 retirement years afterward.

Our metal grid that helps the hover-boards stay afloat, is buried under the grass of Live-land, of course, people still prefer to walk because it can generate more power for the community, but for someone with a job like mine, it's easier to hover.

People think that you think you're entitled but, hovering pulls at your wrists and waist, and first, it was barely bearable, but after 5 years of it, I have gotten used to it. My wrist sensors have got more padding and my waist sensor doesn't have the stiffness that it used to.

I climb down to my room and grab my hover-board, and start on my route. My job is one of the easier ones because the systems barely malfunction and we only have to install solar panels twice a year. The only time it takes long is during the winter when the panels ice over.

When I finish my route I see that I have only been awarded 80 WP (work points) today. You see, each day when we complete our jobs we get up to 100 WP, for a job as easy as mine I usually get at least 95 WP a day, I have no idea why I only got 80 today. Work points are what we use to get material items in our community, and usually, they are only around 10 WP each, the currency is much like how the Preliminary's used money, like dollars and cents.

On my wrist sensors the number flashes, I shouldn't worry about it too much, but if I start to falter in job efficiency then the school might shut down or someone's lights might be flickering, or their food might go to the wrong house. I go re-fly my route and double check everything, seeing that I missed a tube blockage. It's easy to miss, the tubes aren't exactly the most transparent, being made from reused double layered plastic.

As I pick out the first blockage, I notice another one down the line. People must have been out of food for at least an hour. One blockage is fine, but when too many blockages build up, people get angry, judging by the size of each they have been out for more than a day. There must be a few complaints. I bring up the forum rating website, I am still in the top 10 but I'm not number 2 anymore. I quickly pull out the rest of the blockage, close the tube and turn it back on.

A few pieces of food shoot through in their neatly wrapped packages, the edible paper that goes to the kids for their lunch meal, each flavored as a different fruit. I order a meal myself, they always come out too hot for my liking so hopefully, it will be cooled off. I quickly get on my hoverboard and rush to my second destination, my mom's bakery.

There are still a few residents that like fresh foods lucky for them, my mother Eleanor McDavids, majored in the culinary arts. Originally she wanted to be one of the people that prepare the daily meal choices for the tube service, but she realized that she wanted to have one of those Cafe's like they used to have in Paris, paired with my father's library next door, it's a dream come true for one of the Preliminary hipsters.

I put my hoverboard in the corner next to my waist pack, and pull an apron over my head. I grab my order pad and a pen and get to busting the tables. A small group of business majors comes in and sits in my section. "Welcome, I am Eliza, I will be your helper today, holler if you need anything!" I say as I walk away, one of them speaks. "Actually I would like a coffee and a side of you." he says. Business majors always act like assholes.

"I'm sorry, but we are all out of those, maybe I can suggest a side of fuck off instead?" I say, putting on my greatest smile. His friends laugh. "I will be right back with your coffee." I turn around and grab a cup, pouring the fresh pot of coffee into it. When I'm walking back I notice the guy has his head down.

I am only 17 years old but even I know that people don't put their head down when they're embarrassed. I set down his coffee with a note under the cup, when he goes to drink his coffee he reads the note. He looks up at me and smiles. Whenever I see someone embarrassed I try to help the person where they messed up.

This note said "Your angle was wrong." he obviously understood.