Willow, Ellie Johnson

ELLIE JOHNSON, 11

“...AND remember, do not under any circumstance leave your house. We must be unifi ed. Have a pleasant day, America!” A polished, delicate plate fl ew through the air, exploding into the television screen. “Honey!” A stern, middle aged woman with dark, buzz cut hair screeched at her husband, whose arm was still extended from his throw. “The virus could kill me for all I care, but what the hell happened to my freedom?! I thought this was America for God’s sake.” The burly man’s veins practically popped out of his forehead. Willow could hear her father’s yelling from her small, cubicle-like pod of a room, like always. She knew it scared her mom to hear him scream like that, especially since the government issued security cameras in every household in the country. Willow let go of the pull-up bar mounted in her door frame. Her slim physique glimmered with sweat which she wiped from her face with a white, sterile cloth. She quickly discarded it in the waste containment system, or WCS. The WCS could destroy anything potentially contaminated by NOHL - 26, a virus that spread like wildfi re tens of years ago. She pulled the hair band out of her long, dark, curly hair to let it stick out at every angle. “Willow, honey! Could you come in here for a second?” Willow’s mom stood patiently beside the kitchen island with a letter in her hands. “What’s that?” Willow inquisitively asked as she entered the kitchen and living area. “Your offi cial letter of testing! Isn’t it wonderful?” She replied, handing the envelope to Willow. “After you pass the tests you can fi nally get your own rations, living quarters, and…husband.” She nudged Willow on the shoulder happily. “You’ll be your own person, not just my smart daughter.” A grave nervousness washed over Willow. “So soon? I’m not scheduled to fi nish my schooling until next January. That’s when my testing is supposed to start, why did my letter come so soon?” She stepped back a little and braced herself on the kitchen’s island. “Honey, what’s wrong? This is what we wanted! Your grades were so high, so your dad and I called city hall and submitted a request to let you graduate early! Isn’t it exciting?” She responded. “Yeah...exciting.” Willow opened the letter. “In three days?! Mom, I’m not ready, that’s so soon!” A few moments passed, and tears began to pool in her emerald green eyes which she sniffed back. She crumpled the paper and threw it at her mom. “I won’t do it.” “Baby!” Her mom tried to stop her to no avail. Willow stormed out of the living area and slammed her bedroom door behind her. “She just has to accept growing up. I did.” The woman said under her breath. “What did you say, dear?” Her husband asked from the couch. “Nothing. Could you please go talk to her? She’s being tested on Wednesday whether she likes it or not, and she needs to behave. And do not give her any of your rebellious freedom talk. Now is not the time.” Willow’s mom sternly replied. He nodded and made his way to Willow’s room. “Get out, mom.” Willow stood facing the small window on the far side of the room in her fl owy, gray leisure pants that cinched at the waist and ankles as well as a cropped, dark green tank top that was tight and high-necked. 34

“Don’t worry, it’s just me.” The large, muscular man sat on Willow’s twin sized, plastic wrapped bed. “Dad, why would you let her do this? Don’t you love me? I thought you hated the system, why would you put me in it sooner than I have to?” Willow wiped a tear away that glistened on her cheek. “It’s not that I want you gone, of course not! Come here.” He motioned for her to sit, and she did. “You are an incredible person, Willow. I believe that you can change the world. Actually, I don’t believe it. I know you can. I want you to have a head start, an advantage on all the other kids. You could work for the government for God’s sake. You could see the outside world and not be held hostage in a house for the rest of your life with a spouse you barely even know! I’m doing this because I love you, and I hope that you will recognize that one day.” Willow let out a sigh and a few silent moments passed. “Fine, I’ll go. Just know that I’m only going for you and that, if it weren’t too late, I would stay.” Willow leaned into her father’s chest, feeling his slow, steady heartbeat. He rubbed her back lovingly and gingerly with his strong hands as he had done since she was a child. “That’s all I’m asking for. I love you.” He put his arm around her and pulled her closer. Opening his hand to reveal the letter, he pleaded, “Can you bring yourself to read it? You should be completely prepared for your big day.” She took the letter, letting her hands linger on his warm, fatherly ones. With her other hand she wiped away her tears, and she solemnly nodded. He stood and made his way into the hall, quietly and delicately shutting the door behind him. Willow sat on the bed for a moment, letting a single tear escape and run down her cheek before she fl icked it off her cheek. No. Willow, you are going to have to be strong. Tears are for the weak, and you are NOT weak. She thought as she sat up a little straighter. She uncrumpled the paper and smoothed it out carefully. It read:

Dear Miss Willow Diana Wilde (3479), We in the city are pleased to inform you that on May 1st, 2047, you are scheduled to begin testing. You are not permitted to bring anything as you could contaminate another citizen if you have the virus. You will be collected at 0800 sharp and brought to the testing center located in Washington D.C.. You will be pleased with your results so long as you follow instructions. Stay unifi ed. Best regards, The Facility

Each day that passed was identical to most every other day that she could remember, but somehow they seemed to fl y by, every second feeling faster than the last. She would wake up, read, exercise, read some more, eat lunch, play a board game with her dad, watch a documentary or two, eat dinner, and go to bed. Every day. She liked the routine, but all that she could think about during the days leading up to her testing was what her future was going to look like. She couldn’t focus on whatever activity she was in the middle of, making them feel dull and pointless. To her dismay, it was suddenly the night of April 30th, the night before her testing. Tomorrow my whole life will change. She thought, sitting on her bed, not 35

wanting to close her eyes, clinging to her last few moments of her past life. BEEP. BEEP. BE-- Willow threw her hand over the alarm clock and rolled out of bed. The cold tile underneath her feet sent a shiver through her body, keeping her fully awake. She trudged to the bathroom, took a quick shower, and threw on her light blue government issued ‘formal attire’, essentially pants similar to doctor’s scrubs and a tight, long sleeved shirt. Whenever it was deemed necessary that a person leave their house, it was crucial that they wear the formal attire because it was made with material that helped one not contract the virus and the government told them to. The lightly-colored clothing contrasted beautifully with her dark skin, and the soft fabric comforted her marginally. She debated binding her hair in a tight topknot to look professional, but she settled on running her fi ngers through it and leaving it as it was. She was more comfortable with it like that, and she wanted to be confi dent. Giving a fake smile to the girl in the mirror, Willow moved her hand to the back of her neck in an effort of calming herself down. A knock at the door rang through the rooms of the house like bullets and were just as accepted by Willow as real bullets would have been. Willow entered the living area to see two large men in dark blue hazmat suits with police badges standing by the door. “She’ll be in here any minut-- Willow! Here she is, Willow, good luck!” Her mom pulled her in for a hug and whispered in her ear, “Don’t slouch.” She stepped back and gave her a sly, proud smile. Willow straightened her back. Her dad smiled and mouthed, Good luck. Willow nodded. “Time to go.” One of the men said as he opened the door and gestured for her to step outside fi rst. Reluctantly, she placed a foot on the other side of the threshold. Immediately a scent hit her nose. What is that? Willow thought. It was fresh, moist, and sweet. Is this what trees smell like? She wondered. Gazing over the suburbs, Willow saw what she had seen her whole life: her front yard and her neighbors, but somehow it felt totally different. The men led her to a small, gray minivan. A train of nerves slammed into her, infi ltrating every cell in her body. She suddenly realized that there would be other people at the testing facility. She would have to talk to people other than her parents. Be strong. You’ll be fi ne. Don’t let them see your nerves. You left your childishness at the house. Willow thought, forcing herself to settle down. The door to the back seats slid open, revealing an open seat with a boy around her age in the seat beside it. He was so...icy. His complexion was practically albino with eyes like sapphires. “We have number 3479 prepped for transit, sir.” One of the men in the hazmat suits said into a walkie-talkie of sorts. The car began rolling forward and continued to accelerate, and Willow felt helpless, like there was nothing she could do to stop the car in its journey, just like herself.