I Am Alive 2: Increscent

by Cameron Jace

  Bleep this, Faya!

  ‘No Bleep!’ The audience repeats after me, like parrots, laughing, enjoying their time. I swear I will bleep them all someday. Of course, that last one was censored by me, not Faya.

  As I paddle along, I find a beetle floating helplessly above the water. What’s a beetle doing in such a fancy building like this? I lend it my hand and the beetle climbs on what she must think of as a barren island with no palm trees or grass.

  “Welcome home, Robinson Crusoe,” I say to it, and the crowd moans in a sentimental way as I tuck it in my backpack. I feel like saving a beetle today. I saved a bee once, now a beetle. It might be worth it, definitely more than saving humans. “You’re lucky I am not Leo or he would have crashed you mercilessly,” I mumble to the beetle and paddle along. The audience laughs.

  Audience dumb. Audience dumber. Audience, please die!

  I am not surprised when I find the door is locked from the outside. Typical Summit game-traps. As the water is about to reach the ceiling, I have like thirty seconds to turn the iAm on and ask what this game is about.

  “Yes, my dear,” the Trickster says. It’s Caleb Crux, the older host.

  “Where the heck is Timmy?” I ask.

  You don’t have time for this. Hurry, Decca! The annoying audience scream in my ears.

  “Timmy is on vacation, sipping Pena Coladas with his new girlfriend, somewhere in the Caribbean.”

  “New girlfriend? Timmy never had a girlfriend,” I say. “Anyway, wuteva. How do I get out of here? What are the game’s rules?”

  “This game’s rules are,” Caleb Crux takes his time. “Let me check—“

  “Don’t mess with me, Caleb,“ I grunt, watching the water rising.

  “Oh. I remember now. It’s like all the other games. It has no rules. Enjoy.”

  The water covers my head. I try to talk but only bubbles come out of my mouth. I hope the beetle is still safe in my backpack.

  The audience laughs in my head, but they pant as well when I start swimming back to the window, looking for a way out.

  Even though I am about to die, it strikes me how I am a different person from last year’s games – it’s been a whole damn year. I can’t believe how fast time passes. I used to be afraid of death, but it isn’t intimidating like it was before. I don’t fear it, but I fear the loss of all the things that I haven’t done yet, but could still enjoy before I die. It’s not about dying. It’s about what you have done before dying.

  Like what, Decca? Like being just a normal seventeen-year-old kiddo? I certainly haven’t done that.

  As I swim through the broken window into the huge swimming pool outside, I think of the things I have done and haven’t. Maybe this will motivate me to live or die.

  Let’s see:

  Survived death. Check.

  Survived death again and again. Check.

  Kissed a boy. Check.

  Don’t have my parents like monkeys on my back, telling me what to do anymore. Check.

  Lived after the apocalypse. Check.

  Learned how to be a kick-ass girl. Check.

  Killed someone or something. Check.

  Saved someone. Check.

  Became famous. Check.

  Drove an exploding school bus car. Check. That must be every girl's dream.

  Took my revenge on bullies. Double check.

  Made a lot of friends. Check.

  Lost a lot of friends. Check.

  Been a Monster. Check.

  Been on TV. Definitely, Check.

  Been in love… hmm… half check. This one really confuses me. The things that had happened that last year were crazy. Let’s not think about that now.

  I swim out of the window and then upward with little air left in my lungs. How far is the surface? I can’t believe I am fighting for my life here while viewers are enjoying themselves with their new features on the ClairVo. It’s called CV-5 these days. You gotta catch up so no one calls you an oldie. Wear it, enjoy the ride, and adjust the sensors to your likes.

  Dear viewer, while I am about to die, you could easily adjust your ClairVo’s intensity. It’s a new feature that allows you to get your exact dose of fear or excitement of poor Decca. You can also play the background music of your choice. A feature sponsored by zTunes. Choose the song that suits you better, the one that fits the moment. You couldn’t get that option in old 3D movies, eh?

  You can pan right and left, up and down. You can zoom in and out. Decca’s eyes, at your service. Just make sure you have enough money to pay for the service, or you could be downgraded for not paying the bills. Did you think watching people die was for free? Even watching people live isn’t.

  Remember that you’ve signed a contract for this option, because a lot of people die from anxiety, watching Decca. She’s that good!

  I remember an old man died from laughter watching me a month ago. His blood pumped up and he had a heart attack. I still don’t get what’s so funny about watching people fight for their lives or getting killed, but it seems amusing for humans; so amusing you could die with a smile on your face, but still in debt, and still pretty dumb.

  An oxygen tank comes out of nowhere and hits me in the back while I am swimming upward. It has something written on it: Breathe me.

  I pull the mask attached to the tank and start breathing underwater.

  The Summit doesn’t want me to die. They want me to entertain – which means I should suffer to the max instead of dying. It’s one of the privileges you have when you’re the only one in history to win the Monster Show. You suffer, and people love you more as if your suffering is purging their sins as if your suffering is so sweet in their eyes.

  I know. I know. They called it privileges, you call it disadvantages. In Faya, these are only semantics.

  The audience’s relieved voices in my ears make me want to laugh underwater. It’s as if they were really swimming with me, and have just found the oxygen tank. I am glad that the Clarine doesn’t allow them into my brain, or they would have been confused by my scattered thought process. I know I am supposed to be perfect, but I am not. I can win games, I can be a hero, but I can’t tailor my thought process for your needs – maybe they will invent a technology that does that in the future. I am just a seventeen-year-old and all I want is to survive my teenage years so the world might finally believe in me and take me seriously when I grow up. If you haven’t been in a Monster Show, then you have no idea what I am talking about.

  Finally, I reach the surface of this artificial swimming pool. I see the rooftops of other buildings next to me. The sum of money the Summit spends on this stuff isn’t surprising anymore.

  But this isn’t the Playa. I’m in Burniversal Studios, a place where they used to shoot movies at before they were prohibited.

  There is a canoe next to me that has, ‘get on’ written on it. I do. Still, I can’t see anyone nearby. The viewers are cheering my name in my ears so I take my headpiece off. In the distance, my fans are waiting for me outside the gates of Burniversal Studios. Moms and kids who want to meet their superstar.

  “And that was the end of today’s mini-episode,” Caleb Crux tells the people enthusiastically. “Don’t miss the next episode of I Am A Ten with the Girl with Golden eyes.” He says proudly, and the viewer's bim, boom, and bam right back at him.

  That’s what they call me now: The Girl with Golden Eyes. Not only because it was my idea to chose the ClairVo in the show, but because no one can do it but me. Even when they invented the golden Clarine, it seemed it couldn’t work with anyone’s eyes.

  A helicopter hovers above me and a rope dangles from it. I raise my head, squinting against the sun. My favorite chocolate, Flambury, is wrapped at the end of that rope.

  “Roger This, baby.” I hear Vern say in my iAm. Remember Vern? The Roger This dude? He is actually piloting the helicopter. It’s amazing how fast he learned that stuff.

  “Didn’t I say I wanted the
crispy chocolate, the one with honey inside it?” I say as I take a bite. “Can’t you be a useful assistant for once?”

  “Don’t blame it on a Seven,” He laughs. “I got you a whole box of crispies up here. All you have to do is climb up, Girl with Golden Eyes.”

  “Just don’t fly any lower or you’ll chop my head off,” I mumble, reminding myself that’s physically impossible unless the chopper flies upside down.

  Vern was excused as a Seven after I won the 10th Monster Show. All my other friends who refused to declare they were alive and preferred to live in the Playa with Woo have been ranked as Monsters. They weren’t considered winners because they didn’t kill Carnivore, but they were definitely survivors, and survivors deserved to get ranked. But Pepper, Woodsy, and Bellona refused to go back to Faya and preferred to be Monsters next to Woo. If they hadn’t been so stubborn, Pepper and Woodsy would have been ranked Fives, and Bellona a Six. It’s been the Summit’s wish to grant them ranks since they were survivors. Leo returned to Faya though and was ranked a Nine, of course. All other Monsters, and especially Woo, prided themselves on staying Monsters. They said they didn’t want to be part of the Summit’s system. And since Pepper, Bellona, and Woodsy adore Woo to death, they didn’t want to live outside the Playa. “The Playa feels very much home now,” Pepper told me once. “Faya itself with its bright cities doesn’t mean anything to me.”

  But Vern didn’t want to be a prisoner of the Playa – Monsters aren’t allowed to leave the Playa, even those who have complimentary ranks, unless they declare their detachment from the Monster world. Vern wanted to get a second chance at a better life full of video games. Woo didn’t like Vern because he acted cowardly in the 10th Monster Show anyway.

  “So should I pull you up to the helicopter or are you enjoying yourself down there?” Vern asks. “I am tired of working, and I got that new game I want to try. It’s called Bazooka Hero, kind of Guitar Hero with a Bazoo—”

  “Who wants to play video games after being entertained by me?” I wonder.

  “Your games are deadly, Decca. I do love games that hurt, yes. But not that much.”

  “You mean you love games that hurt your thumbs,” I tease him and lick the chocolate on my fingers. “So how many people did watch this episode?”

  “Ten million. You still got a recap and the worldwide rights. You’re doing fine. Don’t worry.”

  “And how much did this crazy setting cost?”

  “What do you care? This place will turn into an amazing tourist attraction in a couple of days. I think they will market it as the actual place the Girl with Golden Eyes has set foot on.”

  “I feel like peeing in the water to leave them a souvenir.”

  “Wow. What’s with that attitude since you removed the iAm’s receptor?”

  “I don’t know, Vern,” I say, looking down at the infinite number of kids and parents waiting for me outside the gates of Burniversal studios for an autograph. “I guess this is my real personality that was kept from me with the iAm’s receptor in my brain. I am not very nice now, am I?”

  “I guess you just feel trapped being a celebrity and such,” Vern says, but I can sense when he sweetens the words. I haven’t been feeling like the old Decca lately

  “That could be it, too.” I nod.

  “Wanna switch places for a day? I can use it to get a girlfriend.”

  “You still don’t have one?”

  “Can’t find a good nerdy and quirky girl with strong thumbs on the joystick. Those are really hard to come by these days.”

  “Well,” I say, unable to imagine myself meeting up with fans today. I am so burned out. “I can switch place with you but we’ll have to switch cars too.”

  “Seriously? You’re going to let me drive your Tenbourgini?”

  “Yes. Let’s see how you deal with the fans running after your car thinking it’s me in it. What car do you drive?”

  “Hmm,” He shrugs. “It’s a Camaro.“

  “How do you live with that kind of a car? You’re better off on foot.”

  “If you raise my salary, I could buy a better car.”

  “Shut up. I pay you good. You just spend it on vintage games and badly dubbed Kung Fu movies,” I crane my neck up at the helicopter. “Just go take my keys, leave me yours at the gate. Today, I will drive your car and wear a hood or something so no one knows it's me.”

  “Alright, baby.” Vern turns the helicopter around, causing the water to ripple and splash me in the face, then disappears.

  As I stand to wait for the workers to get me down, I see a young girl in a row next to me. She is from the crew, the first to arrive to clean up the mess and take care of me. I am hoping she is not going to ask me for my autograph. I am really not comfortable with the celebrity mode.

  “You finished the chocolate?” She asks with an innocent smile. She looks like she comes from a family of Fives to me.

  “Sorry,” I shrug my shoulders. “I did. Bad habit. I am like the Cookie Monster when it comes to chocolates.”

  “It’s OK,” she says, trying not to sound disappointed. She really wanted that chocolate. “It’s OK.” She lowers her head.

  “Hey. What are you listening to on your iAm?” I am trying to make conversation, feeling guilty. “Is that David Bowie?”

  She laughs hysterically. “It’s Zowie. Bowie just sounds funny.”

  “But Of course. My bad,” I say.

  “And no, it’s not him. It’s that new song by the Beatles. It’s called Follow the Sun. You know it?”

  Of course, I know it. It’s Woo’s all-time favorite song. Although he isn’t allowed to leave the Playa, the songs spread around in Faya somehow. The Beatles are one of the bands no one in Faya knew about it because somehow their music wasn’t there in the arc when the Xitlers found it. Woo had one copy on a mini-drive and used to listen to it since we were kids. He only decided to spread it out lately. That’s why the girls consider it a new song, sung by dead people. History should thank Woo for honoring the Beatles, though.

  “I’ll follow the Sun,” The girl sings along with the song. “So you’re the Girl with Golden Eyes?”

  “Yup,” I raise a hand. “Guilty as charged,” I smile with pursed lips.

  “My sister wants to become like you. A Ten.”

  “Wow. That’s amazing.”

  “I am trying to tell her that you’re the only one who is a Ten in Faya, but she doesn’t listen. I want to be a Seven myself.”

  “Oh. Why don’t you want to be a Ten?”

  “To become a Ten, I will have to play the deadly games and Win,” She says. “And I can’t win the games. So let’s stick with being a Seven. You always look tired since you became a Ten.”

  “Good point, ” I say, brushing my hair, and enjoying the sunlight.

  “And Dame Fortuna hasn’t predicted my year to be the Year of the Ten. It only happened once and it turned out to be you.”

  “Hasn’t she?” I am not a fan of fortune tellers anyway.

  “You have beautiful hair.” The girl says.

  I giggle when she says that. She didn’t see me a year ago. All bald, covered in sand and honey… and blood. My hair has grown longer now and I take precious care of it. No one cuts and slashes at it anymore. It’s awesome. Thank you for asking.

  As the rest of the crew arrives, I fumble with my iAm. There is someone I want to call. Someone who matters a lot to me. Someone, I think I am in love with and have risked my life for.

  I scroll through my phone list and stop by Leo’s name. Only reading his name makes me smile.

  But he is not that someone.

  I know, you might want to shoot me now. But the heart wants what the heart wants.

  I scroll down and stop by Woo’s number. I don’t hesitate to push the call button. The problem is that he is going to avoid me and not pick up like he’s been doing all year long.

  2

  Comfortably Numb


  Vern’s car is horrible, but it does the job.

  I drive out of the Burniversal Studios, hiding my face underneath a yellow hood I got from one of my co-workers, looking like some boxer girl after a tense fight. I don’t know how Vern will deal with all the annoying fans, driving my car, but I am happy I can be without them. They have been in my eyes and ears for too long.

  I sneak my wheels through the streets of Faya, watching my fans chasing poor Vern driving my Tenburgini in the rearview mirror. It’s only a couple of minutes before I try calling Woo again, knowing he still won’t pick up.

  What’s wrong with you, Decca? Leave him be. Since when do you chase boys?

  The problem is I can’t help it. It’s weird but it’s true. Since I discovered he was alive a year ago, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Even though I thought Leo was all I wanted, things changed knowing that Woo was alive. It made sense in a way. I risked my rank and my life to find Woo in the Playa. It’s true that I had thought of him as a dear friend that I couldn’t live without, but now I know he’s more than that to me. The problem is that the Woo who came out of the Playa is so different from the Woo I once knew. It’s almost as if someone has ripped his heart out and replaced it with a black stone full of anger and revenge and an obsession with the Rabbit Hole.

  My iAm rings suddenly, waking me up from the inner dialogue. I pick up. It’s Faustina.

  I forgot to tell you. Faustina is my PR assistant now. Let me hear a big ding and a bigger dong for that one. A year ago, I was jealous of the Teen-Gene girl. Now she works for me. Yay! Who would have thought?

  But I have to admit that she’s not dumb like she pretends to be. She is damn smart. She wouldn’t survive for two seconds in the Playa, though. I hired her because she knew how to deal with advertising companies and how to talk to the media on my behalf. I am just bad at stuff like that. I‘m not made for being a celebrity.

  Reluctantly, Xitler agreed on Faustina working for me, but under one condition: that she gets downgraded to an Eight. Nines are celebrities. It’s never appropriate for a Nine to become someone’s assistant or secretary, even if it were for a Ten.