Her Purple Eyes

C H A P T E R O N E

I remember the exact day it happened. May 21st, 2073. I was in the garden when I heard the sound. The loud, and noisy blaring of the cannon. I never reacted badly to it, at that point it was a normal everyday thing. That time was different. That time it meant that he was dead. He was called, and he never came back.

Anyway, I'm probably making no sense to you. My name is Madelyn Anderson and I'm a Blue, or so I thought. Let's start from the beginning shall we?

Eye color sets everyone apart. Browns are the lowest; they generally serve as servants to blues, many of them are homeless as there are less blues than browns. Blues are next in the rank; we work as servants to the royals or as whatever job we can get. Hazel eyes are next in the system; they work as lawyers and anything below that. Next are Amber eyes: they work as doctors and are also staff of the royals. Green eyes are the second highest in the rank; they are always next to the royals and most are their advisers, green eye girls sometimes marry royals. Last and definitely not least are the royal majesties themselves: Purple eyes. Anyone who doesn't have those eyes are killed on the spot as they are a danger to society. This is how it's been since the epidemic in 2020 wiped out all those who do not have brown, blue, hazel, amber, green or purple eyes. For some reason, all purples contracted the virus but survived and the virus gave them special abilities. Weird right? It gets weirder. Most purple eyes marry purple eyes to ensure purity or some shut like that, occasionally they will marry greens, but it's pretty rare. Not all purples are related, if you are wondering, there's a lot of them (around 1000ish). All eye colors are hereditary. So my mom is blue and my dad is blue, so obviously, I'm blue. So that's the backstory, now onto the present.

Right now it's May 21st, 2074, and we are at the memorial for my brother, best friend, and twin, Brady Anderson. He was asked to work at the palace and we didn't get to see him and even talk to him until a palace guard came to our house to tell us he was gone. Dead.

It's been a whole year, 365 days, 525,600 minutes, 31,536,000 seconds. It should hurt less right? Everything has been so different. Mom won't talk as much and dad won't let me out of his sight. No one will say his name near me, like it's some sort of curse. I've been getting into a lot more trouble at school too. I've always been a smart girl, first to raise her hand, first to know the answer, first to finish an assignment. Nowadays, I haven't really been using my talents for good though. I've gotten more detentions this year than I have in my entire life. So what if I accidently blew up our chemistry lab, tried to sell our school, filled a girls locker with spiders, and well you get the point. Does that make me a troubled child? No, but apparently my teachers think so.

I finally lift my head from my lap and look around. There are pictures of my brother everywhere. His school picture, a picture from when he won prom king, from the football team, basketball team, from when we were babies. I see his jerseys framed on the walls of the church. I see his bracelet which always got stuck in my brown hair when he tried to mess my hair up.

I snicker a little.

Finally, the memorial is over and everyone starts to get up. As we start to leave someone bumps into me.

"Hey, watch where you're going." He demands.

"You're the one who bumped into me." I sneer, still looking at my shoulder.

For a second I look up at him. He looks about 6' 2", maybe 6' 3". He is wearing sunglasses to cover his eyes, which makes no sense because if he's here he's obviously a blue. Dark brown hair, and a chiseled jaw.

"Do you know who I am?" he asks.

If I think about it, he does look a little familiar. "No, am I supposed to?"

"No, nevermind. I got to go." He rushes as he runs out of the building.

"Well that was weird." I mumble under my breath. I look around and realise my parents aren't in the building anymore. I run out to catch up with them at home.

When I finally reach the house I hear screaming. I can vaguely distinguish the words.

"SHE'S NOT HERE. DID WE LEAVE HER! IT'S DANGEROUS HER OUT THERE." That's my mom. She never screams.

"Calm down, she knows to come home. She'll be here soon." That's my dad.

"We need to tell her tomorrow. She turns 18. She needs to know." My mom says.

I finally gather my courage and open the door.

"Hi, sorry I'm late I couldn't find you guys and some guy bumped into me and I-" I get cut off by my mom smothering me with hugs.

"I thought we lost you. Don't scare me like that again." She cries. I don't think she's aware of the tears streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry mom. Can I go to sleep, I'm really tired." I lie.

"Of course honey. You need to be well rested for your birthday tomorrow." My mom replies.

"Thank you." I say as I run into my room and close the door.

I lay on my bed and think. Tell me what tomorrow? Why is it dangerous? These thoughts run through my head until I finally drift off into an uneasy sleep. All I know is that tomorrow is going to be an eventful day.