You Don't Decide

Vic didn't believe in the idea of forever. Nowadays, that was all anyone believed in. Ever since the invention of these protruding countdowns on everyone's wrists, the idea of forever had taken over. Faith was replaced with fate. Diversity was replaced with destiny. Individuality was replaced with ideals of completing yourself by combining with someone else.

Vic was having none of it.

It wasn't the idea of the countdown that bothered him. In all honesty, he thought the idea was brilliant. People no longer had to question who they would spend forever with. They didn't have to rack their brain trying to figure out who was 'the one' because everyone just knew. All they had to do was shake hands with someone and subtly glance at their own wrist to see if that person was the person. He liked the idea of knowing. The flaw that he had came from the imperfections within his own bloodline.

The first problem that the Fuentes family encountered with the Endearment System was when Vic's little brother Mike was born.

When a child is born, there are a few things that are recorded. The time of birth, the weight, the height, the gender, the name, and the Time Of Endearment. The Time of Endearment, or TE, is the moment that is displayed on the newborns wrist. There is a tiny screen-like object on the wrist of every human being born for the past 300 years that displays 4 numbers; how many years, months, days, and minutes until someone meets their other half. The numbers are displayed like the numbers of a digital clock. As a newborn, the band wraps around the entire wrist, but as they grow the band shrinks until it is only the underside above the forearm and below the palm. They recorded the time on the baby's wrist for government reasons- to keep track of age patterns and such.

So Mike was born and they recorded all the normal information. When the doctor asked for the TE however, things got complicated. The midwife reached for Mike's wrist and looked at his band. When she opened her mouth to routinely read the time, all that escaped her mouth was a tiny gasp. The doctor turned to her and asked 'Is there a problem?' to which she responded, 'There isn't one.'

She wasn't talking about a problem.

On Mike's band, instead of a number, there was only a blank screen. There was no countdown. There wasn't even the number zero to suggest that maybe he had already magically met his soul mate- nothing. There was simply a blank screen. To this day no one knows why Mike is without a countdown.

The second problem came later. Much later. When Vic was about 12 years old.

His parent's had begun to fight. Nothing large at first, but it started to escalate. Vic's father began sleeping on the couch, or his mother at his aunt's house. They began having little to no conversation and looked repulsed by the others mere existence. They tolerated each other, however, because they were undoubtedly the end of the other countdown.

undoubtedly

Until one day, Vic's father awoke on the couch after another night of arguing. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and stretched his sore limbs out in front of him. He stopped mid-yawn though when he looked down at his wrist and saw that his countdown no longer read zero. It was counting down again.

Vic and Mike were sent to their aunt's house as soon as their father found out, even before their mother awoke, and came back to see that their father had left. Vic had noticed, however, that his fathers countdown had restarted. He had somehow fallen out of love with Vic's mother and the universe had matched him with someone new. Apparently he wanted to go find that someone.

That night Vic banished away the idea of forever. How could forever exist for everyone except his parents? How could an idea as full proof as the Endearment Program have exceptions? Why his parents? Or his brother? As Vic looked down at his wrist that night he couldn't help but be repulsed by the ticking of the numbers. There was no way his countdown was functioning- not when everyone else in his family's was malfunctioning.

So Vic took matters into his own hands. He ran downstairs to the garage, silently hoping that his father had left his tools. Vic was pleased to see that his father's toolbox sat on it's shelf just like it always had. He reached up into it and pulled out a rusty hammer. Determined to rid himself of the burden of soul mates, Vic placed his forearm solidly on the workbench. He brought his arm up over his head and dropped it down onto his band- successfully cracking the screen and ruining the display. He brought his arm, now sore from the abuse, into his chest and hugged it tightly.

No one would choose his destiny.

Not the universe, not 'God', not anyone.

He looked down at the cracks in his band and whispered harshly at them-

"You don't decide."