The World of Hope

by Parker Fentress

  I grew agitated, “I don’t think that you understand. This is not a matter of whether you think I can handle myself or not, in the city. I am young!”

  My dad stood up angerly tired of hiding from the past, “I don’t want to hear another word come out of your mouth! Go to your room right now, or you’ll make us all want to go on vacation in crazy land; wherever you think you went or experienced! It is nothing now, you are nothing. You are a little child, with no sense of responsibility.

  I glared at everyone around me. I realized that my family was closed-minded. I went into my room, and threw all my anger into the wall, smashing a large hole right in the center. My hand shook and turned a nice shade of blue and purple. Blood began to drip on the carpet. I wrapped my hand with gauze and pulled it tightly to stop the bleeding. I sat at my desk and looked to see when the next train to New York City was. I would get there, and I wouldn’t stop. It wasn’t a matter of answering questions or seeing some stupid art gallery. It was about defying those in society.

  I pressed the button on the wall that opened my window. It slid open. I laughed. I grabbed a bag of my things and threw them out the window. It was just like the movies and cliché drama series I had watched before. I ran off, rounding the corners as the sun set over the street. The cool breezy air, and the bugs flying off my face allowed me to ignore the agonizing pain slowly protruding through my entire left hand. I reached the train station. The bright blue neon lights blinded my eyes. I approached the ticketing machine and entered in my Citizens identification number. I owed twenty dollars and paid with the little amount of cash I had.

  Entering the train, there were booths that lined each side. The doors were like transparent walls, opened and solidified as each passenger entered and exited the booths. I walked down the cherry glossed wood floors. With each yellow light passing me by, sound that came within the booths remained terrifying.

  Almost like a nightmare, screams and laughs came from each passing booth. Grunting, and moaning too, filled the hallway. The realization that the train was no longer a mystical force that moved people from place to place, but rather a class transportation filled with deceit, sex and a cover for problems.

  I entered room 29 for peace and quiet. I typed in my Citizens Identification code again, and the black forcefield lowered. As I entered, it darkened again. A window stood across from me. It glimmered clearly as if traveling faster than sound. An announcer came on, “Hello customers, please be aware there is no solicitation on board this transport, and there shall be no weapons or altercations. Any forms of agitation will be removed from the train promptly. Please be aware, New York City is currently under State of Emergency. Please use caution at night while roaming the streets. Please enjoy the ride. Announcement provided by, International Fleet and Transport Agency.” The announcement shut off with a few short notes following the end.

  I sat quietly, and the restraints folded around my neck quickly making me feel claustrophobic. It strapped own around my neck and in between my legs. They slowly tightened until I struggled to breathe.

  The train moved faster and faster. It pushed me against the seat even further, giving me an adrenaline rush, then suddenly the lights turned on. What felt like an energy field, released all tensions and the harnesses disconnected. I took a deep breath as the train had reached maximum speed.

  The screen switched on. I could choose a movie and enjoy the rest of my ride to New York City. Once I made my choice something else occurred, the news station came on.

  The same female newscaster from the last blackout came on, “Uh, yes. Are we on? Yes? Okay Citizens, viewers please listen. The Global Government Unity has issued a stage two blackout for the world. All lights and power will be cut to all centers except for Top Tier Government Agencies. Please wait,” she looked frightened when she stopped talking midsentence. Within the reflection, men in the suits could be seen pointing a gun at her, “Please wait for the Global Government Unity to release an announcement before recommencing societal activities,” the screen cut off.

  A set of three notes came over the intercom, another announcement, “Attention customers, the train will stop momentarily to ensure that all proper precautions are followed through with the Blackout Stage Two issued by the Global Government Unity. More information will be reviewed following the cut of power to the magnetic train. Restraints will refasten prior to the halt of the train. Please stay secured within the booths, and do not move about the train. Thank you. Please enjoy the ride. Announcement provided by, International Fleet and Transport Agency.”

  The train came to a stop, and my heart dropped as it seemed the restraints recirculated amongst my body almost grabbing my parts.

  The power cut out to the train. I sat in the darkness and the windows tined black making it even darker. Shuffling could be heard about the halls. Banging and knocking occurred. The moaning still went on constantly. It all stopped at once, as if each person had been silenced. A sense of fear shot through my arms.

  I slid down and grabbed the courtesy blanket below my seat. I threw it over my face. The temperature grew cold. The lights shone through the interior booth access windows. I hid. I stayed away from the bright white lights. The sound of footsteps grew louder, and then it quieted again. I sat for two hours, waiting to see if it would come back, as the flashing lights seeped into my room.

  The sound of clashing abruptly came closer and closer. As they drew nearer, I started to shake with fear and the rattling of my heart seemed to come into the real world from inside me.

  Finally, the stepping sound came centerfold from the entrance of my booth. The once dark shield was then shattered in front of me, into millions of shards of glass.

  The men, the people, in black helmets pointed a gun with a light on my face.

  One yelled, “Identify yourself!”

  I continued to shake, barely able to speak.

  Then it repeated, “Identify yourself! Name and age!”

  I managed to reply, “Luis, Luis Phillips. Sixteen.”

  “Guns down, non-aggressor. Search him!” The man spoke with diction.

  They removed the blanket from me, allowing the cold evil air to surround me. They searched through my pockets, sleeves, and underwear, they were unable to find whatever it was that they were looking for. I felt so abused and embarrassed.

  The main thing spoke again demanding, “Phillips. You will leave this transportation right now. You will return to wherever you came from, and you won’t speak of what you may or may not have seen or heard. Is that clear?”

  I replied, “Yes, I know. I will go. Jesus.”

  I slowly stood up. I still shook. Then I stumbled through the hall out of the booth.

  I looked down the opposite corridor of the train. Trash and damaged décor were scattered throughout on the floor. Everything had been busted, and out through one of the booths laid an arm on the floor. Pale and ghastly looking.

  This can’t be right. It was sheer terror. I hadn’t seen the train. This shouldn’t be happening, I thought.

  I hopped out of the trains exterior door and headed toward the moon along the tracks back to where I lived. I ran. I couldn’t see the train or any person. There was darkness cast upon the dry dirty ground. I couldn’t wait to get me.

  The power remained out in all of the houses I passed by. New York City could not be seen like it could when it was busy and filled with light.

  I kept thinking to myself, if the States of Emergencies and the Blackouts weren’t because of the terror attacks, then they would be because of the war with the alien KS race.

  It couldn’t be true, everything seemed so quiet. The were no ore blasts in the sky, there were no more lasers being shot from Earth in waves of blue. There were no more motherships leaving the base, and there were no more scientists talking about what might or might not happen.

  I kept running until my legs began to cramp. Not because I was being chased, but because I was afraid if my
parents had found out, they might tell the agency I had lost control.

  I couldn’t wait to make my life right again. Make myself a normal kid. So much time was taken away from me I didn’t think there was anything that could stop me from pursuing a normal sixteen-year-old lifestyle.

  6

  I tripped on a very large rock and had to scurry on my belly to my bedroom window as I held my head down to make sure that no one saw me. The power was still out. I opened the window and climbed back into the house. I fell hard to the floor. I couldn’t wait to resume normalcy by hanging out with Tommy and going to school. After all, I felt like this was a new milestone since returning and hanging out with my first friend after returning from another galaxy so very far away.

  My eyes remained closed. In my dreams, I looked to the empty sunlit street, Tommy waited with all the other people I once knew. I ran out and instantly laughed because I didn’t know what it was like to be so exited to talk to normal people.

  I rode my bike along the old cracked road envisioning the formations of Death Valley. As far away as it seemed, I thought I secretly wanted to live somewhere far away. Like in South Dakota, Arizona, or California.

  I dreamt of the coast, I saw it and felt the breeze. I met important people like editors, photographers, and artists. Art. Such an important subject in the world. It was history through pictures, never was pictures through history. Each piece was history.

  Planet KS introduced me to many things, but I would never forget of the dreamland of Dunshop. The way people dressed. They wore individual pieces of art. It went to show between the two-human people; ideas, words, and events. They are all displayed differently. The art held meaning. A piece that can be physically touched, but not lived by. In Dunshop art was physically touched, mobile and lively.

  I woke up very early and checked my messages. I received a message from Tommy in the Citizens Database.

  It said, “Hey there Luis! This is Tommy. Want to go see a movie around 6:00 PM tomorrow night? I can pick you up in my car. Hope you don’t mind.”

  I replied back to him, “Yeah! Sounds good man. I look forward to it. I think my address is still the same, but I don’t know if they updated it. It is 18600 Pennybrook Lane, Albany. You know the rest.”

  In an instant, I received something back. “Sure thing, yeah, I don’t think they even have your address in the system since you live on base. Thanks. I will be there around 5:30 PM, let me know if anything changes. I wanted to grab a bite to eat, but I can drive us somewhere afterwards.”

  I happily responded, “Sounds good. I am up for anything! I haven’t been out in a while, let alone going out to see an actual movie in a theater.”

  As overwhelmed as I was, I stayed in my room for the rest of the day. I couldn’t stand to see my family.

  The lights popped back on without notice. The sound of the light generator warming up from the solar batteries ran through the air ducts. I found it strange that the motor was connected to the air ducts. Never would any army base allow for unhealthy conditioning of the housing units.

  I rolled my eyes. I walked into my bathroom. Again, I looked in the mirror. I realized how drained my skin looked. Deprived of nutrients, I could see how stained my veins were from the chemicals that had run through them. Checking my wrists where the thousands of needles were driven through my layers from the cuffs, dots could still be seen, as if they were small scars never to fade.

  My hands continued to shake, but not because of the lack of food. I was sick. I needed more of whatever they gave me on KS.

  My hair started to grow back in curly, but streaks of grey rolled through it like I had aged 100 years old. I did not look okay.

  My image shuddered in the mirror, I waited for it to crack. Not because of the distaste I had against my looks, but rather the sinister vibrance I gave off in the pure light of my bathroom.

  I sat down on the tiled floor, observing my features, looking for flaws I might have missed. I needed help, but I didn’t know what for. I needed answers, but there were none to my questions.

  The government hid in the light, but I was there. I was real. I was sick, and they couldn’t see past that because everyone there was hiding something. They were hiding their wrinkles, filling their cracks, plumping their deformed lips, tattooing their irises. Everything there was hidden. For the sake of all staying cooperative and less judgmental, if everyone was the best one they could be, then there would be no ore problems.

  I spent the whole day on the floor, shirtless.

  Attractiveness. I was the epitome of attractiveness. I looked into that mirror, blurred from the perfectly smooth skin to dry and crippled death, I slowly imagined an image of myself so daring and so outwardly, that I began to find a love for myself.

  I twitched and tremored. I had energy and saw things. I saw things, whether induced by my coma or by my lack of liveliness, I loved it. I craved it, and I didn’t think that I had ever been that well.

  It was six o’clock and there was a light knocking on my bathroom door. I slowly came back to reality, seeing that the universe of color could be seen from my eyes.

  I was startled when a voice came, “Hey Luis, are you there? It’s Tommy.”

  I replied, “Hey, I’ll be out in a moment.” I stumbled upwards and reached out to grab the fall bar. I got dressed quickly and opened the door. Tommy sat on my bed.

  Tommy looked at me with his eyes wide open in concern, “Man, are you okay? You don’t look well at all.”

  I remarked, “Yeah, I am okay. I just need a moment. I’ve been getting over a cold.” I lied.

  “Man, you’re so pale. I hate to say it, you just don’t look good, and your veins!” He looked at me worried, and asked again annoyingly, “Are you sick? I think you should see a doctor.”

  I signed, “I am fine. I am worry I made you wait so long. Let me do my hair and I will be ready to roll to the movie.”

  He said, “Okay, but if you get sick while we are in the car, just remember, roll the window down,” he laughed. I quickly tried to part my hair and patted myself with a wet towel. “Is it cold out?” I asked.

  Tommy replied, “It is a little frigid. Noting to be too worried about. I have an extra jacket if you want one, but I bet the boarding school in Illinois had given you a nice jacket.” Heavy enough for the cold air.” He smirked.

  I smiled. “No, I do have a jacket, “No, I have a jacket, thanks though. For your information, that camp was complete shit.” I laughed and tried to hide the lie that I hadn’t ever gone to a boarding school in Illinois.

  I was finally ready to go and signaled him out the door and closed it behind us.

  We walked out around the corner to the driveway where his car was parked. It was a blue Cadillac, much like the black one my mom had. It had bright silver trim, with a Caribbean blue accented base tone. “Wow, you drive this?” I asked.

  Tommy giggled, “Well, it is my dad’s, but he said that I can have it if I graduate high school. It is several years old and is one of the first generations of Hovering Automobiles. It is a little rough, but it really is pretty on the outside. I think Jimmy Kindler, you know him? I think he has the same one but in yellow. Let’s face it, a yellow car is an ugly car.”

  His sense of humor lightened the mood. I wasn’t really sure if I truly remembered what he used to be like, but I was glad that I had taken a chance to hang out with him after being stuck on a world other than this one with the emotionless people.

  Tommy asked, “Do you think that President Crysler will tell us what is going on soon? It has been three months since the last update on the war, and I am not even sure if it is still going on. I am sure it is. It is just, you know, all the blackouts that they have been implementing. Do you think that there is something wrong with the world?”

  I responded, “I don’t know. My dad hasn’t been in the Fleet in forever! Whatever he knows, I bet is limited. I think, I think there is something else going on down here
. On Earth I mean. There are no more sky explosions. There are no more nightly sirens. It seems like everyone is oblivious to it all, but it seems to get darker earlier and the days seem longer. I have this eerie feeling that President Crysler won’t say anything because I don’t think he knows what’s going on. After the situation with my dad, being away for so long and being a POW, I feel like there is so much that the Fleet is trying to do, that maybe for once we are crushing them. It seems quiet. I mean not just from the news, but the Global Government Unity as well. I thought for a unified system, there would be more unity, but that unity has turned into silence. Nothing is happening. To answer your question, they are the same questions I have that will probably be left unanswered.

  Tommy tilted his head running his finger across his cheek. “You know, I think you make a good point. That would make sense. Hmmm. Makes you think how long we have left until the end of the world. Well, let’s get in, I think the movie times are all around seven, so if we get there quickly we still have a change to get a seat and go to The Diner afterwards. Sound good?”

  I replied, “Sounds good!” The doors to the car flipped up as we walked towards the front of it, and I stepped up to get inside. Like a premium house, it had cherry wood floors, leather seats, and a nice carpeted liner around all the edges with a large holographic display on the dash. Tommy interrupted, “Can you believe that this was the baseline model at the time? Rumor has it your mom has one of the limited editions that was only released in a batch of twelve. I bet that is exciting.”

  “I have only been in her car once, and I can hardly remember it. She knew someone at the corporate office, who gave it to her as a gift. It is very experimental, and as far as I can remember, her largest complaint was all the glitches in the software. You know how the Hover Automobiles hover above the ground at a standard foot? Well, hers sometimes bugs out and lowers down to seven inches, which causes problems inside of the car because it starts to wobble like a seesaw. It isn’t the worst thing. It’s just so very annoying.” I stated matter of factly.