Showing posts with label dystopia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dystopia. Show all posts

Sunday, August 25, 2019

Rebirth: Part 1

I wake up to walls lined with bright green and red banners waving in an imaginary breeze. The LCD’s brightness hurts my eyes and I shuffle pillows around until I can’t see beyond their cotton softness. It may be the 10th anniversary of our Rebirth but that doesn’t mean I have to get out of bed. Behind closed eyes I recognize the switch from sunlit streets to the glow of interior LEDs, as the soft tremor of a voice ascends in volume and sends me jolting upright.

“My fellow citizens, today marks the 10th anniversary of our triumph against a generation of evil." Oh man, he is gorgeous! I swoon, reaching for my phone that alerts me to a message as soon as I touch the screen.

Marla
xxx-xxx-xxxx

Marla: Marcus Dots is on! Are you watching? He is so gorgeous!!!
Me: I'm watching! He's wearing blue, too! You're favorite!
Marla: I know I could just die! Call me when he's off? I don't wanna miss a second of this.

I lower my phone to my lap and turn my attention back to the wall where bigger than life Marcus stares at me lying half-naked in my bed. I reflexively pull the sheet up around my neck, even though I know he can't see me, and try to focus on what he is saying.

"Ten years ago today President Von Buren signed a presidential order overturning Roe v. Wade and making all abortions illegal. One year later he signed the Walker Act that added miscarriages to the list of illegal acts against the not yet born. Since that day over 500 thousand women and men have been punished for their unGodly actions. Today is a day of triumph and celebration. Let us rejoice in Von Buren's name for all those not yet born who were saved from fates worse than death. Praises eternal!” Marcus lifts his chin and closes his eyes while simultaneously lifting his hands so that their palms face me and I can see the scar from when he was eight and blocked a falling shovel from hitting his little sister in the head. So brave, I swoon again and hear my phone chirp to life on my lap from what I know is Marla’s similar response.

Marcus holds this pose for a second and then looks out into the camera--and into my bedroom again, “Let’s go over to Sara and hear about what events are planned for today’s Rebirth celebration. Sara?” The screen fades out. When it reappears a petite blonde is standing where Marcus’ beautiful features were moments ago. I roll my eyes as my phone buzzes and chirps once more.


Marla
xxx-xxx-xxxx

Marla: Vomit! I hate her.
Me: I know! And I hate the way he says her name! Gag!
Marla: They just need to fire her already. She isn’t even a good reporter.

I am tapping out my response when my screen cuts off, and auto-response from the bedroom door opening as my mom walks into the room.

“Jesse time to get up,” she looks at me through the half-open door but doesn’t walk into the room.

“What? Why do I need to get up?” I ask tapping the back button on my phone so I can see the clock a little clearer. It is only 8:15 AM.

My mom rolls her eyes. She actually rolls her eyes! “Honestly, I think if I wasn’t here you, your dad, and your brother would lose your heads. You have your monthly check today, remember?”

And then I do remember. Every month girls and women between the ages of 12 and 45 have to appear to be tested for pregnancy. It is some reporting system that was put in place before I can remember. The interruption of my summer mornings has been a struggle for me but my mother wouldn’t allow me to miss a check for fear they would cart me away to jail or worse fine us. We couldn’t have that, now could we? I think to myself as I scoot out of bed and walk toward my bathroom.

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