There now exists a world where the colour of your blood defines you; and there certainly isn't much room for different in the year 2138.
Suki Kione has known for a long time now that there's a clock on her life, one that runs a lot quicker than that...
"As soon as I'm certain it can't go any faster," I retort with a huff, closing the control panel hatch and placing my screwdriver on the overcrowded work table in the corner of my room.
"You'd think that for someone who's entire life depends on her not getting into some kind of skin-grating accident, you'd hate hover boarding, but no ... not my daughter," she mocks and I can't help beaming back at her, resulting in a smile of her own rippling the blanket of chocolate skin on her face.
"If it helps ... I'd stop tearing this old thing apart if you'd just get me a new one," I coo suggestively.
"Suki, that would cost me one month! That's just too much for a toy that puts you in so much danger," she argues and I can't help the sharp intake of breath at the mention of the cost.
"Even if I'm on my death legs?" I ask, smiling widely, but her slackened expression lets me know that she doesn't find me very funny.
That's another thing about society today. Being broke ... means being dead. I guess the Watchers figured there really isn't a more valuable currency than time when they were figuring out the kinks in the inner workings of the Ring.
It's a society where the youngest may as well be deemed the richest. The second after you are born a miniature devise is implanted onto your ulnar artery in your left wrist. It isn't a choice, or a misguided fashion statement. It's just how things work. Removing the implant would mean death — obviously and not to mention the implant contains a chip which has all your identification information.
I don't bother offering to pay for the board myself, knowing exactly how she feels about spending, so I remain quiet. It's a useless argument.
I glance down at my wrist and stare at the blue digits projected onto my chocolate skin, the last of which tick away happily with every passing moment. It's a little scary thinking of how when the clock runs out on this seemingly infinite value on my wrist, a small vile of poison will be released into my system. It will take a quick journey up my arm and into my heart.
We quite literally wear our hearts on our sleeves.
I guess it makes sense though, considering they've eliminated most if not all serious illnesses that rendered our old human genome so vulnerable — or rather, my genome.
That's me — outdated and vulnerable.
Gauging the disappointment on my face my mother makes another break for conversation.
"I'm sorry Kiki, I know how much you love it, but I also know that I don't want to lose you to them any sooner. It's that time again and I don't want you being caught up in all of that prematurely. Your sister's gone, I'm not quite ready for you to be gone too."
"I-I know mom. I promise you, I'll stay safe and when it's time ... I'll kick those Watchers in their big, white, as-"
"Suki language!"
"I was going to say aesthetically appealing, uniformed behinds," I retort, keeping both my expression and my accent proper.
One of her famous what-the-heck-happened-during-your-birth looks flits across her face and I shrug off her accusatory stare by pressing my pointer finger to my right temple to see if I've got any new messages.
None.
"Are you worried about Selection Day?" she queries, finally taking a seat by my bed, causing a slight dip that nudges me a little closer to her.
I roll my eyes at the meaningful look on her face and I wonder if I'd even get to spend time with her if I didn't have to die soon what with her recent promotion to Head of Genetics.
"Of course not!"
It's only the most important interview of my life ... you know, the one that might just kill me if I get discovered. Correction, when I get discovered.
Her bright, brown eyes crinkle at the edges as a by-product of her scrutiny, shifting one or two of her freckles that could easily be missed if you aren't looking hard enough. She opens her lips again, no doubt ready to reassure me, but I cut her off.
"I know this could very well be the end for me, but I'm ready mom. I've been expecting this since the day you told me, I'm not scared anymore," I assure her.
Oh if only that were the truth.
"You don't have to be afraid of wanting to live. Survival for everyone like you shouldn't have to be so scarce. You of all people need to believe in the fact that it's possible," she breathes with a sigh, her tone nagging at my subconscious.
I yearn to ask her what she means by that. There's nothing I can really do now. The time to try and run has long since passed and for the most part my fate has been sealed. That statement is just so unfair. Why would she even bother mentioning it?
"Oh mom, always the enigma."
x x x
A/N It's short, but I hope you liked it. Also... next chapter, hehehehe 💀💀💀
Kione: "Key-yawn"
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