"Red" by Ella Goulet

Nagtzaam

It was the year 8000. Food supply was no longer an issue. My father harvested crops at various farms alongside other employees. My mother packed meat at a meat factory. Every day of my life has been the same. I woke up, got ready, went to school, performed how society expects me to, then went home, cooled down, and prepared for the next day. Rinse and repeat, in and out. Over and over again. The alarms on telephone poles in my neighborhood rang at five o’clock. I jolted awake as one does when they hear such an ear-piercing sound and rolled out of bed. I walked over to our family’s bathroom and took care of my hygiene. I then greeted my parents as they greeted me. My parents then walked to the bathroom, and I stepped onto the teleportation device. The touch screen attached to the teleportation device scanned my face as I scanned in my fingerprints on the touch screen.

The device announced, “Citizen 783-829-382-393-392 report to school. Goozam Incorporated is awaiting your arrival. Have a good day, Citizen!” 783-829-382-393-392. I hated that name. 783-829-382-393-392 is my government name, but to me it always seemed so boring. I’ve always liked the idea of being called something special, something different and unique, a real word like how “corn” and “beef” are called instead of just a random string of numbers. If I was able to pick a word to be called by, I think I would choose something proud, something confident, something like “Axel.” I typed in District Eleven Public School. Moments later, a tremendous jolt of electricity ran through my body, forcing me to clamp my teeth and the muscles in my body to tense up. I then arrived at District Eleven Public School. The next thing I knew I was in an elevator that opened to the school entrance. Everyone wore the same clothes. Cargo pants, a long white sleeve shirt, black socks, a grey winter hat, and standard issue sneakers with the choice of grey, black, or white. The inside of the school was rather cold. I stepped onto the moving conveyor belt that circles around the school.

Then a motion sensor door opened as I approached my classroom on the conveyor belt and walked in. I was the last one to enter the class and was therefore considered late. I immediately took my seat as the teacher proceeded to explain how Goozam manipulates the weather to maximize food output for plants that grow outside. I couldn’t care less about how Goozam controls the weather. It’s almost always the same anyways. It’s either about to pour, it’s pouring, or there is not a cloud in sight. What do I care anyways? I’ve never been outside. The only lucky people who go outside are the ones who work in the field. Boy I’ve wondered how the weather feels. All I've ever known is a 68-degree air-conditioned environment, which Goozam claims is engineered to aid in optimal human function.

After what felt like an eternity of slow, boring classes, I teleported back home. My parents were not home, which must mean my father was still at a farm harvesting crops and my mom was still packaging meat. I got started on homework, which was about how to give the maximum amount of effort in your job on a day when you don’t feel like working that hard. Later that evening my parents arrived. We exchanged greetings before taking our seats at the dinner table. The number on the screen in the table showed how many food credits we had. My father pressed the red button next to the screen three times which meant that the center of the table opened and gave three of the same meals to each of us.

My father claimed, “Yum, it looks like beef, potatoes, celery, carrots, and water today.” My mom just stared blankly at the food and then began to start eating dinner. We don’t talk much as a family. We never have any new news to express to each other because we experience the same thing every day.

I then professed, “I don’t want to work in a factory or field. I want to explore the earth. All I’ve ever known is wake up, go to school, come home, do homework, then eat dinner and go to sleep. I want to see what else there is to life. There’s more to life isn’t there? Why can’t robots do these mundane tasks we do? They exist! We could be living lavish lives, but we’re simply a gear in the motor." 24

My mom uttered, “Hush! You know they listen to everything you say! Show some gratitude, dammit. You have a stable life and future to look forward to. You won’t be throwing that away for whatever you are thinking of doing. Exploring the earth, was it? Foolish boy. Eat your food and be quiet.” I was pissed. My father shoved down his food and stormed off to bed. My mother simply ate her food while gazing blankly at it. I didn’t finish my meal. I couldn’t stand this family! I couldn’t stand the life I was given. Once I went to my room, I emptied out all my school supplies and homework from my backpack and shoved clothes in it from my closet. I also put my hygienic supplies in it along with my only unique possession which was a rock a friend gave me last year. Cameras were watching my every move so I would have to plan my next steps accordingly. I knew where the two cameras in my room were. One faced the window and the other faced my bedroom door. I punched a hole in the drywall and cut the wire in it with the rock my friend gave me. I think that shut off the cameras. I grabbed a shirt from my bag and wrapped it around my head only leaving my eyes exposed. Then I put on sunglasses as well. I opened the window, and an alarm went off. I swiftly hopped out of the window and sprinted down the street my house was on.

I had no idea where I was going. Every street looked the same as the last that I ran down. The wispy wind whipped at my face and whistled in my ears as I ran. Finally, I arrived at what seemed like a long fence after running across a field. I looked behind to see if anyone or anything had chased me. Nothing was behind me but a silent stillness. I inhaled a large breath of fresh air. One arm and leg at a time, I ascended the fence. Leaping onto the unknown ground rendered a sense of freedom which was the most marvelous sensation I've ever felt.