Three.

No one is quite sure why the regulations started. There’s not even a date for when they were put into place. They just started. They became a thing. First, the government began to take over high-profile genetic laboratories, and then fertility clinics, claiming they were doing this for the good of the people. They began to put together the Gershwin Pact, which essentially would remove all personality from the next generation of citizens, and would put down workers who showed exceptional capability in their craft. Basically, if you were good at something, you died. It’s told that they eliminated more than half the population, all because they were afraid of something they couldn’t control.

But once they’d killed off all the creativity in the world, they’d soon realized the error in their ways. The world became dull. Boring. There was no color, only grey. There were no new television shows to amuse them, no new love poems to woo them, no new songs to make them weep. They were left with a world full of nothing.

Their next step was to allow the population one skill, one thing to be a master at. For instance, my mother was born with the natural ability of being the best chef in the county. My father is one of the best engineers of his time. My sister can paint like Vincent Van Gogh, and has had her works hanging in the most prestigious galleries since she was 11. My brother can hack into any system, using one of the most outdated piece of technology in our entire household.

That’s where we are now, a society repressed to be one thing and one thing only. You can’t be a singer if you want, because you’re born with the skills to be a carpenter. I don’t think they choose, really, what you’re going to become. They just suppress most of your personality traits while you’re a fetus until you get one thing unique and special butterfly-ish about you. Unless, you don’t. Unless, let’s say, you’re born with more. But we’ll talk about that later.

“I swear to god, Levi, if you don’t get out of that bed and get ready for class, you can kiss your car goodbye!” my mother screamed up the stairs of our two-floor suburban home. Oh, yeah. I still live with my parents in my childhood home. We’d only moved once, when I was a baby. Mom and Dad lived in a high-rise apartment building in the city when Devin and I were very young, but once we’d both started to need more space, they’d decided to say goodbye to their newlywed apartment perfect for two and hello to a warm family home with a large backyard in suburbia. This is where I took my first steps, and where Mom brought home Tess for the first time. This is where Devin broke his arm after chasing me down the stairs for taking his phone while he was trying to woo his girlfriend. It wasn’t much, but it was our home.

I rolled over and buried my head into my pillow, groaning loudly. I hated mornings. I particularly hated the morning that comes directly after a long fall weekend, when the floor is cold and my bed is warm.

I knew what was coming within the next five minutes if I didn’t get my sleepy butt downstairs to shower. I knew it and maybe I should’ve gotten up when Mom called, so I could’ve avoided what was about to happen. However, I was never that smart, especially when the sun had just peaked over the mountains or whatever. One of my chemical-given talents was not a way with words, unfortunately. Again, more on that later.

I heard the stomping first, the warning sound that I was about to get a rude awakening. Her footsteps grew closer as I pulled myself into a tight, secure little ball. My door slammed against the dresser and I felt my mother’s presence stalk towards me. I braced myself for it, huddled under my comforter. She ripped back the blanket and, SPLASH! I let out a loud shriek and shot out of bed, dripping from head to toe with ice water.

“Good morning, Levi.”

My mother was an impressive woman, balancing her job at the restaurant with three unruly children, a needy, pampered dog, and a husband who left his tools and inventions lying around the house. Meanwhile, she still managed to look flawless with her simple bun of dark brown hair, perfectly lined blue eyes and thin waist. It was hard to look at my mother and think; obviously she’s the mother of three. She dropped all of her baby weight as soon as we were born. She’s also the reason Tess and I are the smallest people in our individual group of friends. She’s quite the woman.

“I was getting up,” I shivered, reaching for my robe hanging from the end post of my bed. I wrapped it around me, trying to stop my shuddering.

“Mhm, I’m sure. Well, now that you’re up, you can drive Tess to school and take Patsy to his hair appointment before you go to class.”

I groaned and started towards the door when Mom handed me the bucket she’d used to drench me with a cheery smile. My mother, ladies and gentlemen, the sadist. I stuck my tongue out at her, a sign of my defeat. She left my room, a spring in her step. I merely shook my head, grabbed a change of clothes and headed downstairs for my morning shower. Patsy sat right outside the closed door, waiting for Tess to emerge and play with him.

Patsy was my mom’s Boston terrier, and had had more “hair appointments” in the last year than I had in my entire life. I never quite understood why, considering that Patsy had practically no fur at all. He came home smelling like a dream though, so I guess that’s the upside. He was a sweet dog, despite our differences. He thought I should give him my entire plate of food at dinner, and when I disagreed, he tended to run off and pee on something of mine.

I pounded my fist on the door, scaring Patsy. He leaped away and barked before bounding away to get far from me.

“Come on, Tess! I gotta take a shower!”

“Being beautiful takes works, Levi! GO AWAY!”

“I’m about a half-second from breaking the door down,” I threatened.

“No, you’re not,” Dad said passing by. He kissed my temple as he went.

“Dad, tell her to vacate the bathroom,” I whined. He chuckled.

“Levi, you are a very capable young woman.”

He slipped away before I could protest, leaving me alone with the bathroom situation. My parents are just so helpful sometimes.

“We’re all gonna be late, Tess, if you don’t get out of that bathroom right now. You’re a painter, not a beauty queen! You’re just gonna get paint all over yourself!”

I heard her huff and the door whipped open.

Tess and I look a lot alike, with the same big brown waves that we call hair and big brown eyes. We’re both rail thin, as previously stated, like our mom, and we both have Mom’s face shape, with unfortunate cheekbones that gave us pinchable cheeks. Tess hadn’t quite grown into her nose yet, however. She had the misfortune of getting Dad’s Roman nose, and with her delicate features, it was a bit out of place. She was still an adorable kid, but she had a bit more growing up before she was fully beautiful.

“Fine. I’m done,” she snapped. Tess wasn’t exactly a morning person, and she didn’t like to be rushed. At 14, Tess still had the mentality that the world was meant to serve her and her needs, that the universe was shaped and bent to her will. She’d been the baby her entire life, at 5 years younger than me and 7 years for Devin. She was a bit of a brat, sure, but she was growing out of it, slowly.

“Thank you. Go get your stuff together. When I’m done, we’ll have to leave.”

“Well, if you didn’t sleep through both your alarms,” Tess stated, before skipping past me. I shook my head and entered the bathroom. I started my daily routine of doing the least I could in ways of beautifying myself. I showered, brushed my hair and brushed my teeth before I toweled off. I pulled on my black jeans and black t-shirt and then my jean sleeveless jacket. I left off any make-up Tess would probably force me into, because honestly, I was just going to sweat it off during my 10am practice anyway.

“LEVI! YOU’RE GONNA MAKE ME LATE!” Tess screamed from the living room. I sighed, pushed my hair out of my eyes and left. I met my sister by the front door, tucking my feet into a pair of black combat boots. I grabbed my practice bag and then my school bag off the floor where I’d dropped them.

“Let’s go. Patsy!”

I heard his nails before I saw him skidding into the hallway. He ran towards me and jumped against my leg. I lifted him up and scratched at his ears for a moment while Tess checked herself out in the hallway mirror.

“Come on, little girl. Time for school,” I said, pushing my sister towards the front door. With one arm loaded with bags, and the other cradling Patsy close to me, I struggled to grab the car keys. I shifted Patsy closer to me and scooped up the keys from the small table, just barely. Tess opened the door and skipped down the steps towards our small matchbox car that Devin and I had to share, and would eventually share with Tess as well. It was Mom’s old car, one that she’d used to get back and forth from work while Dad was out of town. When she’d gotten a raise, alongside her promotion to head chef, she’d sprung and finally bought her dream four-door crossover SUV that she’d wanted since the first model was released when I was a baby.

Tess turned just as I stumbled and nearly dropped everything in my arms, my bags sliding from my shoulder and dragging my arm down. The keys flew off my finger and landed a few feet in front of me on the pavement. Luckily, Patsy had a tendency to dig his nails into whatever jacket I was wearing and pray that I wasn’t going to drop him.

“Levi, do you need some help?” she asked. I normally never stumbled. I was the best goddamn dancer in the entire city, born with grace and rhythm and I never stumble. I glanced back and cursed the ground. There wasn’t anything there to trip me. I didn’t understand.

“Yes, please.”

“Here, I’ll take Patsy,” she said, skipping back and lifting the dog from my arms. He trusted Tess more anyway. I shifted the bags back up onto my shoulders and grabbed the keys from the ground before following my younger sister to the car. I tossed my bags into the backseat and climbed into the driver’s seat. Patsy shook anxiously on Tess’s lap as I started up the matchbox and pulled my seatbelt on. Safety first, and all that.

“Are you okay? Something seems wrong with you today,” Tess asked as I threw the car into reverse and backed cautiously out of the driveway. Although, to be honest, it was probably the most unnecessary precaution someone has taken. Our street was one of the sleepiest in the world, full of retired citizens. In fact, I’m sure my family was the youngest in the little subdivision.

“Yeah, Tess, I’m fine,” I said tiredly.

I wasn’t though. I’d had the dream again last night, where I was dragged into the darkness by two men in all white suits. There were rumors flying around campus that a pair of twins had shown off their talents, as in more than one, and had vanished from society. Their mother and father put up flyers, and had called every single person the twins had come in contact with. No one had seen them, except for one friend who was traumatized for life, having seen four men in white suits appear out of nowhere and snatch up the twins.

I wasn’t sure whether or not I believed what everyone was claiming, or why I was even so scared of it. It all seemed a bit fairy tale to me, but there was something gnawing at my gut, telling me that maybe the friend was telling the truth. Something had made itself at home in the back of my mind, whispering about men in white suits that snatched innocent citizens off the street and dragged them into the darkness.

“How are your studies going?” I asked, exiting the subdivision and heading towards Tess’s small town high school on the other side of town.

“Alright. I found my new favorite artist yesterday. I get to do a recreation of one of his lesser known works, but unfortunately, I also have to write up a report on his life and inspirations, and include why I like him so much. Why does it matter? He was a great painter, and I like the way he used a paintbrush or whatever. I just. I suck at writing. I don’t want to do it,” she sighed and scratched absently behind Patsy’s ears.

“Don’t even worry about it, Tess. I had to write a report on this really great ballerina, Julia Sanchez or something, as well as model a dance routine after her style. I got a Perfect on the routine, but a failing grade on the report. We’re not a family that’s good with words, and I think the teachers started to learn that when both Devin and I failed out written reports for graduation. You just impress the fuck out of them with your painting and you’ll do fine, I promise.”

She nodded.

“I’m just nervous that I’m not as good as I’ve been told I am. I mean, what if I can’t do the recreation?”

“Tess, you sketched the Mona Lisa when you were 3. You’ve been accepted into the nation’s best art school since you were 10. You are as good as you’ve been told. Even better, actually. Don’t go doubting yourself now.”

She remained silent the rest of the ride, even when I attempted to strike up a conversation. It was weird seeing my sister like this.

Finally, five excruciatingly quiet minutes later, I pulled up out front of the small brick building, students ranging from 12- to 18-years-old hanging out outside of the metal doors.

“Try to have a good day, Tess. Talk to your teacher about the report, ask if there’s any way to get a pass from it.”

She got out, lifting her art portfolio bag from the floor and then her school bag before she headed towards her whispering group of friends, slamming the door behind her, all without saying goodbye. Patsy climbed up and looked out the window towards her, letting out a small whimper. I shook my head.

“Teenage girls, Pats. They’re complicated.”

He looked at me before dropping down onto the seat and letting out a snuff.

“Alright, time for your appointment.”

I pulled away from the high school, and sighed. I drove on autopilot, allowing my mind to wander back to the dream. Why did it bother me so much? It’s not like I was unique. I had one talent. I was a dancer. I always had been. Ever since I was a toddler, I hadn’t had trouble on my feet. Swaying to music came naturally, according to my mom. Although, my dad did mention once that I threw a baseball much better than anyone he’d seen. But that was when I was a kid, messing around outside with Devin while dinner was being made. It was a coincidence, it had to be. It was a part of my dancer ability. It had to be. But, sometimes, just every once in a while, I’d find myself tossing a ball at the wall and having it hit the spot I aimed for every single time. That part scared me. I didn’t want to be one of those people, the ones that disappear for being different.