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what to listen to while reading this chapter:
"lovely" -billie ellish, khalid

•~•

two thousand years later

i sit.

i sit there, doing nothing.

because that's the only thing i have ever known how to do.

and that's the only thing i ever will do.

i sit there, doing nothing and staring straight ahead, waiting.

i sit there.

i hear the door slam. my parents are home.

"lila, we're home!" i hear my father's raspy voice from across the house, sounding more depressed than normal. "and we have some bad news."

"big surprise there." i mumble and put my head in my hands. all I can see is gray. not that i'm complaining, or course, because gray is my favorite color. it's not what people say it is. it seems dark and deluded, but it can be comforting in the way that it brings you up emotionally by dragging you down further.

my entire bedroom is various shades of gray. our society is various shades of gray. the only colored things were the people.

i looked at my own hair. each known color had a shade number. the shade number for my hair was 2605. it wasn't much, but it felt special, like something was really mine. it belonged to me.

the rest of the society was in monotone colors. comforting, but saddening. and everyone lives in the same style house, with different unit numbers. same decorations. same people. same lives.

because difference is shame, and will not---can not, be tolerated.

i stand up and make my way to the kitchen, sighing heavily. my parents sat at the dinner table, grim expressions on their faces when they look at me. "sit down, lila."

"yes, sir." i grumble the standard child-to-parent response and sit down with a rather loud clunk.

he frowns. "don't take that tone with me, young lady."

mother nods. "listen to your father. for now, you, delilah haywood, have permission to speak freely."

i flinch as she says my full name. "thank you, m'am." i say insincerely. "so what's the news?"

my parents look at each other in that way that parents always look at each other when their child has done something disappointing. all my muscles tense, and i speculate about what the news might be.

"lila...i know we said you passed the elimination test." my mother purses her lips.

the elimination test is mandatory for all sixteen year olds in our society. if you qualify for a specific year according to your exact date and time of birth, on january second, you go to the testing center and register to take a test. there are various times you can choose. i took mine early morning so i wouldn't see anyone i knew.

then again, i don't know very many people.

the test is a series of patterns designed to make you break. it is on all subjects in school and all matters in life, particularly the ones you're worst at. how does the society know? they're always watching you. ever since the second you're born, you're watched every minute of your life. seem unfair?

welcome to society x1b. that's how they roll.

long before my generation and my parents' generation, there was a war. a great war between the genetically engineered and the ones who believed it was morally wrong. how ironic. anyway, it was awful, according to the books. millions suffered. were pained. even died. in the end, everyone but a small group from either side was gone. they rose from the ashes of our predecessors to create a new perfect world to end famine. war. depression. and our society seems perfect at first, but take a closer look. if you don't fit in, you die. they kill you. if you're different, you die. people still die here for no reason. doesn't seem perfect to me.

if you are in the top sixty-sixth percentile for the test, you are among the desired. they are sent to the upper schools and pursue the higher paid jobs. they are considered to be the better ones. if you are anywhere from the sixty-fifth to the thirty-third percentile, you are an essential. essentials don't go to schools. they become the lower-class workers and live their lives in filth working for the desired, scrounging for food and recourses. and if you're below thirty-three?

you are among the eliminated.

my eyes traced the words over and over again on the paper. it couldn't be true. i got top grades in school. i was praised for my accomplishments over and over again. the others were jealous of my brain!

but i guess not anymore.

my heart beat in my chest. it pounded like a drum, so loud that the entire society seemed to be circling around me, telling me to hush, be quiet, be good, be the same. they're controlling me. their faces are blurring. i need to get out of here. i need to leave now.

tears blurred my parents' faces and my surroundings as i stood up quickly and shakily. "you lied to me." i said dangerously. my voice cracked just like my sanity did at that moment. "you lied to me! why! why?"

my mother closed her eyes, tears starting to drip down her face. "we did it to protect you."

i scoffed and stared at them in disbelief. "to protect me? what, so you thought it would be 'kinder' to let the officials show up here by surprise and then slaughter me?"

my mother let out a strangled sob and looked down. my father put a comforting arm around her and gave me a sympathetic look. "we know you're hurt, but—"

"im more than hurt!" i exclaimed in fury, slamming my fist on the table. my mother stopped crying, and my father lowered his gaze towards the floor.

"dont you," i tried to speak up, to make a stand, but my voice cracked and i whimpered involuntarily. "dont you care that your daughter is about to die?"

my parents lifted their eyes from the floor to me. i stared at them in horror, fearing their response.

"it is for the best." my father said slowly.

of course. they were desireds. they obeyed the laws at all costs. even if i was the cost. i shook my head in disgust. "i trusted you!" i cried out. "i trusted you, my whole life, i trusted you and you lie to me about the most important event of my life? what else have you lied about?"

"nothing." my mother said softly and reached out for my arm, but i recoiled.

"dont. touch. me." i snapped.

my father looked at me sternly. "if you don't stop speaking to us disrespectfully, you'll—"

"what?" i interrupted sarcastically. "i don't care if you punish me. im going to die soon anyway."

he scowled. "fine. i guess i cant make you do anything. the least you can do now is be a gracious loser. accept your fate."

my fate. death. was it supposed to be easily acceptable? not to me. not ever. i threw my hands up in defeat. "you win. i don't care anymore. i cant believe i ever thought that someone was on my side in my life. obviously i was wrong." i stormed out, taking my feelings of anger and contempt with them.

"delilah, wait!" my mother called after me.

"THATS NOT MY NAME!" i shrieked. i made a strangled sound at the back of my throat, like a plea for help, a plea to be saved from this madness that's controlling us all.

i ran to my room, stumbling against the walls. pictures and mirrors shattered lifelessly against the gray floor. it wasn't comforting anymore. i was trapped. trapped inside this crazy government of people, all the same, wanting me to be the same too. i was done.

i fell on my bedroom floor. i fell hard. i cried and sobbed on the floor, no one to comfort me except for myself. that's the way it was. only the people who deserved comforting got it. the rest of us were useless, stupid, insecure beings floating in an empty abyss of loneliness and depression.

us.

the eliminated included me now.

i was among the eliminated. and now, surely, sometime, they'd be here to kill me.

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