Cheerios

Disobedience

Andrew stared down blankly at the bowl of cheerios sitting in front of him, holding a spoon limply in one hand.
"Well, aren't you gonna eat?", a woman said from the corner of the room. Andrew slowly shook his head, not taking his eyes off the bowl. "Why not?", she asked, writing something on a wooden clipboard.
"I'm sick of cheerios," Andrew said quietly, grasping the spoon harder. He knew he shouldn't have said that. The lady in the corner of the room raised an eyebrow. "I want something else, like pancakes," Andrew said, finally looking up at the lady. She wore a simple, to-the-knee white dress, flat white shoes, and a black electric collar on her neck. "It's boring, doing the same thing over and over."
"I'm sorry, you know we aren't allowed to give you anything else." she said with a twinge of pity in her voice. "Now I'm warning you, just eat your cheerios."
"No!" Andrew yelped, causing the woman to jump back. "Nonononono! I'm not eating these anymore!" he picked up the bowl and threw it at the wall, causing the white ceramic to shatter as milk and cheerios ran down the wall. The woman pressed a small red button on the side of the wall and two men in black suits and electric collars walked in. They grabbed the boy by the arms as he kicked and screamed and dragged him through a white hallway into a small white room.
There was a white desk at the back, with a man behind it. The man was plump with thinning white hair, scratchy white stubble surrounded bright red lips and slightly rosy cheeks. He wore a black suit, matching the guards', and a black top hat. His eyes drifted upward to Andrew, who looked like a deer in headlights, still being restrained by the two men.The man behind the desk waved him hand at them, gesturing for them to leave, so the two men hesitantly let go of Andrew's arms and walked out, shutting the door behind them.
"Come sit," the man said in a gruff voice, gesturing towards a white plastic chair in front of him. Andrew slowly shuffled to the chair and sat down, still slightly on his toes.
"Don't worry, son, we're not gonna kill you," he said in a half-joking manner. "We just want to know why you didn't do as you were told."
"Because I'm tired of cheerios," Andrew said, gripping the edges of the chair with sweaty fingers. "I don't wanna keep doing the same thing every day."
"And why is that?"
"It's boring,"
The man stayed silent for a moment. "Do you think life is supposed to be fun? We are training you to be a good worker so you won't disobey and get yourself fired. And if people kept disobeying and getting fired, we wouldn't have any workers, so nobody would get any money to buy food, and everyone would die."
Andrew stared at the ground, thinking about what the man had just said. Was that really what life is all about? Work?
"Understand?" the man said, interrupting Andrews train of thought. He slowly nodded his head.
"Good," the man said, smiling. "Now you can go,"
Andrew slowly stood up and started walking towards the door, still stunned by what he had just been told. He gripped the handle, about to twist it, until he felt a cold hand on his shoulder. The coldness of the hand went straight through the cloth of his white shirt, causing a chill to go down his spine.
"One more thing, son." the man said, looking at the number engraved into the electric collar around his neck. He turned Andrew around and looked him in the eyes. Andrew saw things, terrible, horrific things. He wanted to look away so badly, but he couldn't. He wanted to scream, but his throat wouldn't let him. The only thing he could do was stare at the mans eyes, tears gathering in his own. It felt like hours before it was over, but when it finally was, he knew only one thing; He must obey, or these things would happen to him.
"Disobedience will not be tolerated, son," the man said with a smile. "Now hurry along, go do as you're told."
Andrew didn't hesitate to shakily turn the knob and run out of the room as fast as he could. The man chuckled as he closed the door. He walked back to his desk and held a red button down.
"We shouldn't have any trouble from number 832 anymore, now everyone back to work."