Okay, so all of you know that I like to write. Or you know now. Anyway, I've had this story saved in my computer for awhile. I go back to it sometimes when I read dystopians, but because I'm always reading or doing homework, I don't write constantly. But I do try to write when I feel like it. And when an idea comes to my head. So, this is the prologue to my dystopian book called Butterflies or Colorless. Not entirely sure on the title. Anyway, I want your opinions. Comments comments comments. Please. I've asked two of my friends, and they really like it. Soo........what about you guys? Here you have it:
In 2010 the divorce rate was fifty percent.
In 2185, the number
has risen to ninety-nine percent.
No, I’m not lying. If
I was, I would have said, “Hey, did you know that the divorce rate has gone up
to like, ninety-nine percent? I know right? Guess what? I’m kidding! It’s only
sixty!”
If only I was.
In my world, there are
three types of people.
Fakers: People who
pretend to be in love to make their friends envious of what they have when
really they hate each other.
Envyes: Single people
who put on a happy face but are really jealous of those who fake having it.
And the Survivors, or
the Mistakes (as called by adults): kids who watch their parents fight
constantly behind closed doors or watch as their parents ignore them and have
to fend for themselves. Making sure they have clothes on their backs, food in
their stomach, and get at least a high school diploma. Although much of this
rarely happens, since most adults don’t want children anymore.
I’m one of the
Survivors. In all my sixteen years, I don’t remember when either of my parents was
there for me. They weren’t there to help me study for my first spelling test.
When I started to ride a bike and I fell and scraped my knee. I taught myself
how to cook. I worked down at the local animal shelter since I was seven. I
made sure the bills were paid too, since neither of them thought about paying
them.
The only time when my
parents actually paid attention to me was when they fought for custody of me
when I was ten. They showered me in presents, trying to bribe me with gifts to
convince me to live with one or the other just so one of them could rub it in.
Mom won, and since she doesn’t have a problem, I don’t have to worry about her
as much. (One of the reasons Mom and Dad divorced was because of Dad’s drinking
problem. He was always complaining about us not having money. Mom would yell at
him and say that all the money went to his ‘habit’ and all the medical bills
that built up over the years because Dad couldn’t stay sober enough to drive
home safely.)
Lovely isn’t it?
Wait, I take it back.
There are four types of people. The last ones are the Lovers. Lovers were the
lucky ones. The ones who have it all. The fame, the luxuries, the money, the
expensive cars, etc. The Butterflies.
They’re the one
percent.
In reality, no one has
really seen a Lover since it’s rare to see them at all. Most of the time, it’s
just Fakers pretending to be in love. Lovers are just a myth. A figment of our
imagination. Hope in a time of hate. Some people say that love was never real; it
was just people in lust or were very passionate about each other. But they’re
wrong.
I’ve seen it.
It was two years ago.
My parents were going at it again, and this time it involved throwing chairs at
each other. It was over dad’s alimony check. (He claimed it was too small when
really……..well, you know the rest.)
I decided to take a
walk in the park. One, to get away from my parents, and two, so I didn’t get
hit by a chair. I was lucky it was fall. No one dares to go near the park, let
alone in it. In the fall, the temperature drops down to near freezing, and the
wind that blows through the trees makes it even colder, and the eerie sounds
that whisper through the branches makes everyone nervous. Most people have a winter
jacket, since we live in north Oregon, but none want to take the time to put it
on and take a walk in near freezing weather.
Fortunately for me,
that day was nice and warm. The park was empty, but only of people. The birds
were out and singing. I saw a few squirrels climbing trees with their cheeks
stuffed with nuts. I think I saw a red fox too, but I’m not sure. It could have
been a dog.
As I was nearing the
Callaleana Fountain, I heard a strange laugh. It wasn’t a laugh like the ones I
hear when Mom is laughing at other people’s pain on TV, or the ones I hear when
kids laugh at something funny. No, this laugh was different. It was short,
soft, and girly. In the book Love: Past
and Present, it says (or from what I’ve read online) it’s called a “giggle:
a small soft girly laugh that a female produces when they are happy or are in
the presence of a male or other females.”
I have never heard one
come out of any of the girls in my school. I’ve never heard one period. Until
now. I took small baby steps towards the fountain, quiet as a mouse. The breath
in my lungs stilled. As I got closer, it was like the world became still. Like
someone pressed a pause button on the world. It was so quiet that I thought my
heart was the loudest thing in the park.
Then I saw them.
She had golden-reddish
hair that flowed down her back in tangles. Her whole face was a glow with a
smile. She wore a tattered shirt, holes were frosted all over. Her pants
matched but with a patch of random cloth on her left thigh. She had no shoes
and her feet were covered in mud and soot, but the look on her face told me
that she didn’t care.
He didn’t care either.
His face reflected hers. But unlike her, his light brown hair was combed back.
He was wearing a black suit that could have paid five bills on my house. His
shoes, maybe seven. And they weren’t the cheap knock-off leather shoes; they
were the real deal. They were polished so well that I had to squint because the
sun reflected off of them.
In his hands were her
hands.
I have only seen “true
love” portrayed in the old classic films I have hidden under my bed. The Phantom of the Opera, Letters to Juliet,
Romeo and Juliet, Beauty and the Beast. There’s a lot. But none could
compare to what was in front of my face.
At one point, the man
leaned over and whispered something in the woman’s ear and she giggled again.
He said something again and it turned into a full fledge laugh. Soon he started
laughing.
I knew that only one
thing could explain why they were acting like they were. One thing that could
explain why an upper classman was holding hands with a woman who appeared to be
homeless.
Love.
For years I believed
that love was just an old tale mothers told their kids just so they would go to
sleep. It was a myth that History teachers taught us ‘for our own good. So we
know that it was never real.’ But now I know that it’s real. And it’s
beautiful.
The woman’s face grew
sad, and I knew that their moment was over. The man put his hand on her cheek
and gave her an apologetic smile. Then he did something I only saw in movies.
He gave her a kiss.
Sure, people still
kiss today, but usually with lust in their blood. Their kisses are full of
desperation or passion, using their tongues to probe the insides of each
other’s mouth. It’s disgusting to see people to do it. But this kiss, it was
something different. He just touched his lips to hers, and held them there for
a few seconds. Then he kissed her again on the cheek and stood. She did the
same. They hugged each other.
And then they were
gone.
I never saw them
again. Every day I went to the park and looked for them at the same time, the
same place. I even became brave enough to put a note there to see if one of
them would write me back. But no. Nothing but the note would be there day after
day. Eventually I threw it away. But my belief in love didn’t change.
That day changed my
life. I always thought I was going to be like all the other adults in this
world. Getting married and divorcing a few years later and having kids I
wouldn’t care two wits about. But now, I want to get married, but to someone
who loves me. Someone who will look at me like the man did that woman.
Too bad love is one of
the most dangerous things to be in.
So, comment comment comment. Tell me what you think. :D
Thanks guys!
Keep On Reading!
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