9/10/2007

My Stories, The Cold Future

“How has society changed over the past 75 years?” Milo sat impatiently tapping his fingers on the desk before him. He hated essays. That was something that hadn’t changed: teenagers’ hatred of all things English. He stared at the blank flat panel screen before him, willing the essay to write itself.
“Are you stuck?” the computer chimed at him.
“Yeah,”
Milo sighed in response.
“Can I help you?” enquired his PC in its cold, calm voice.
“How has society changed over the past 75 years?” he asked it, regretfully. He had wanted to do this one by himself, but didn’t have the resolve to refuse the computer’s comprehensive assistance. His PC brought up several web pages and panellised them before him. He looked at them, disinterested.

Society had changed dramatically. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like living in the early years of the third millennium. Especially not with the privileges that he had today. Thinking about it, he probably took his status for granted, he should be more thankful for his mum’s power and what it meant for him. Even imagining life as a Sub made him shiver. The Elite life was the life for him.

Milo stood up and walked away from his PC, out of his unnecessarily large and luxuriously furnished room. He didn’t feel like studying today, he didn’t feel like doing anything today. He was quite depressed. Milo walked into the sleek, modern kitchen.
“News.” The left lens of his high-tech glasses flickered on and displayed the latest news in front of his left eye, something about a group of Sub’s protesting somewhere. He retrieved a can of Energy Plus from the fridge. How could people have lived without Spec’s in the past? He’d heard of primitive things called TV’s… maybe he could incorporate that into his essay: technological and societal change.
“Incoming call,” his Spec’s alerted him.
“Accept.”
The news disappeared and his mum’s face came into view. It was a pre-recorded message; he could tell she’d done it this morning. “Hey
Milo honey, just letting you know that I won’t be home til late tonight, ok?” She seemed quite distracted and concerned. “By the way, it would help me a lot if you got up earlier in the morning…” Milo tuned out, paying no attention to her. His mum would sort out whatever problems she had, she always did. Finally, the message ended and Milo was left with the decision of what to do. Sleeping seemed like a good idea.

Milo dreamt of angels, but they had no wings. They were desperately climbing a ladder leading into the dark and stormy clouds above, but lightning kept striking them down.

He awoke, wondering what he’d eaten to have such strange dreams. “Honey,” it was his mum, but her voice seemed shaky.
“Yeah,” he called out, concerned. “Everything okay?” He walked out of his room and found his mum sitting at the shiny kitchen counter, her head in her hands. She was quivering.
Milo rushed to her side and embraced her. There were white pills before her.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She muttered complacently. She was a mess. “I couldn’t take it anymore. Jason…” her head lolled, her body went limp.
Just like that,
Milo was left alone in the world.

* * *

I don’t know why I’m writing this; maybe it’s just to create something real, something certain. It’s been two years since Dad died, almost one since Mum. I’ve lived, well more like not lived now on my own, as a Sub. I was a fool to take what I had for granted, and I’ve tried desperately to get back the lifestyle of the Elites. But the world is cruel, I was cruel and it’s a shame it took this to make me realise it. I don’t talk much anymore, not even when I’m protesting. I just get carried along with the other Subs, an unknown. No one cares about me, or even knows I exist. Anonymity is the worst feeling that I have ever felt. Mum lost it all. She gave me everything and took everything away. I’ve had enough now though, too. Everyday I fantasize about what living in the year 2000 would be like. Where all people were cared for. I don’t know how I’ve survived this long, I’m as thin as a twig, and when I cough I swear that I might snap just as easily as one. I’m giving up the fight now; I’m just going to lie here in this ditch, the temporary home of my soul, but soon permanent home of my body. No one will know or care. I won’t leave behind anyone or any memories of me… Goodbye.

5 comments:

Dale said...

I wrote this in Year 11, shortly after watching and studying Minority Report and reading a book that I think was by Jan Mark, which was a futuristic class-based action-type novel.

Paul said...

Elites and subs, you sure this wasn't after gattaca not minority report?

No matter how much you want it, your computer is not going to write for you. It wouldn't be as good :S

LOL the point of this story is that you want to wear glasses right?

I like the dream, angles without wings climbing a ladder! :) genius (and you will never hear me say that again). But im serious i couldn't have made a better metaphor for jasons plight if i wanted to(a fall from grace, and no matter how much you attempt to climb they just keep knocking you back).

genius

*** don't read beyond here ***

I don't mean to be mean, but you know the rest was just filler right.

Anonymous said...

HAHAHAHAHA! You considered being an accountant! [Yep, that's going to be a theme in my feedback.] :p

Ditto on most of Paul's comments. And I absolutely *loved* the irony with the talking PC.

And you did actually inspire me to look back on my earlier writing. It all sucked.:( But I was surprised to see a story I'd forgotten about with a character who had a scar along his back a la Ashton. That was the only similarity but I'm still considering suing myself.

Paul said...

Three changes in the past two days! Stop it already!

Jesicka309 said...

I was thinking this was a year 11 sci fi story....wrote one of those last year
i like it, its interesting. one day i plan to publish all my high school stories....haha wanna collaborate? lol
keep posting! i like ur stories!