If You're The Party, I'll Be Your Poison

I’d always loved the fall. I looked forward to school starting and the leaves changing from the bright green of summer to the oranges and reds. I loved the crisp mornings and the perfect weather. Never too hot or too cold. I loved the hooded sweatshirts and jeans instead of shorts and bikini tops. Mostly I loved being with my family. The work hours slowed because of school and my brother spent most of his time at home in the family garage tinkering with his beat up used car. But that was the past. Now it was always hot and sticky. There weren’t leaves or hoodies or cold crisp mornings. There was nothing.

I felt nothing mostly. Just blank buzzing. What I did feel I felt only because that’s what the pills wanted me to feel. I could barely remember what snow felt like or what fun was. My mind had been numbed. I felt no connection to my family. We just lived together in our Industry approved house. My brother worked long hours in the desert outside of Battery City and my mother kept to her bed filled with pain medication to keep her stable as she slowly died. But I didn’t really care. I just moved around like the puppet Better Living Industries made me.

My childhood was a distant memory. The war and the fires just a fuzzy thought pushed to the back of my mind. I wasn’t allowed to talk about my father. His Extermination poster remained a constant reminder of what was banned in the city. I knew little to nothing about him and the BLI made sure to keep it that way. And then my memories began flooding back.

At first they were just flashes in my dreams. I’d see my mother laughing as my brother and I ran through sprinklers. I could feel the cold droplets on my face and then it would disappear. I’d feel the summer sun on my ten-year-old cheeks and see my father smiling as he helped me fly a kite. I remembered what happiness felt like, if only for a split second.

I had to hide these fleeting feelings. It was against BLI code to experience emotions outside of what was provided by the pills. If there was any notice of emotion there was no telling what the Dracs would do to us. So I kept my mouth shut. The fear of being exterminated fueled everyone in Battery City. The Dracs led by example. Perform to standards or be exterminated, nothing more, nothing less.

My place before my mother’s sickness had been with the mechanics. I’d always been a tinkerer. My hands refused to be idle so they had me build machines for the Scarecrow Unit. Everything from computers to fixing vehicles, I had to know how to work it all. When my mother took ill they reassigned me to nurse. So I preformed my duties with new medications. Clean, cook, keep everyone comfortable and don’t ask questions became my new lease on life and I performed to the best of my abilities. I was a drone.

But then the dreams became longer, more intense. The memories distracted my performance and my brother took notice. He questioned me but I kept quiet. I couldn’t risk being thrown to the Dracs, or worse, Korse. I couldn’t risk being killed but I couldn’t run away. So instead of sleeping, I kept myself as busy as possible. I cleaned; I took things apart and put them back together. I even took double dosage of my medications. But the human mind can’t stay awake forever and eventually I slept. It was on one of those nights that my medicated world flipped upside down.