The Unexpected *SPORADIC UPDATES*

Chapter One: The Boy Named Jackson Moore

DATE: July 9, 3035

LOCATION: New York City, New York

I'm fifteen now, and I'm still running from Them. By this time, They've begun putting up posters everywhere, offering a reward to whoever can turn in the "little blonde girl". Okay, two things: 1) I may be short, but that does NOT mean that you can call me little, and 2) the joke's on Them, because in a matter of days, I won't be blonde anymore. At the moment, I have long, blonde hair that falls down my back in waves, and nearly goes down to my waist, although I usually keep it in a French braid. However, I recently bought dark brunette hair dye, which I will use in my hair as soon as it has been cut and straightened. I will also begin going by a different name, which happens to be my middle name (which my mother had given to me in secret, as we weren't allowed to have middle names, because it causes "too much confusion") and my mother's maiden name as my last name. For the past few years, I've been living in New York City. I'm actually surprised They haven't thought to search for me here.

Currently, I'm walking the streets, my hair braided and tucked carefully under a beanie. I make eye contact with anyone I see looking my way, and after I stare them down for about five seconds, they nervously look away. I take in the sights of the infamous NYC; there are billions of lights, but none of them are stars. There are so many people it seems as if they're all just one crowd, excepting the fact that everyone is moving in completely different directions.

I bump into someone appearing to be a businessman. We both awkwardly stumble to the ground, and when he looks at me, I suddenly become aware that my beanie has fallen off, revealing my uniquely blonde hair.

"Hey," the man hollers once we get back on our feet, "It's the blonde girl!"

This causes everyone to glance in our direction, and soon enough, They're chasing me for the first time in years. So, I do the only thing I can do: I shove my beanie into my bag and run. They race after me for about ten minutes before I'm able to ditch them by scrambling into an alley. I hide behind a dumpster, trying to deal with the smell, because I know it will save my life. Not a minute later, the businessman appears at the mouth of the alleyway. One of Them walk up to him, staring down his nose at the man.

"Sir," the business man salutes, "When do I receive my reward?"

"Your reward?!" the other sneers, "We haven't caught her yet, idiot! And besides, you're apart of the force. Members of the force don't get rewards. Now get back to your post!"

I hear the business man mutter incoherent grumbles as he slumps over and walks away. Once the other man leaves, I slowly creep out from behind the dumpster. I decide that I can't wait to die my hair; it would be much safer to do so now. I open my bag and pull out the hair dye, not without putting gloves on my hands before doing so, just in case They run a test for fingerprints, should They find the package. When I finish dying my hair, I remember that I forgot to cut my hair before I dyed it. I groan and pull a pair of scissors from my bag. I cut my hair so that it's shoulder-length, and throw the hair dye package and the hair I cut off into the dumpster. Next, I take my flatiron from my bag. Luckily for me, heat-related hair products haven't needed a cord since before my grandmother was my age. Usually, they run on energy from batteries or solar power, and I was glad that mine ran on batteries, seeing as there was no sunlight either in the alleyway, or in my bag. I flicked the switch on the flatiron, allowing it to heat up before I began to straighten my hair. My hair color was permanent. Technology that was innovated decades and centuries ago allowed hair dye to keep its color even in your roots, after your hair has begun to grow. This means that although I'm a natural blonde, my hair will forever grow a dark brunette, until I dye my hair another color.

Before I exit the alleyway, I check my surroundings to make sure no one will see me doing so. When I'm sure the coast is clear, I cautiously walk out, only to have someone slam into me, knocking us both onto the sidewalk.