Outside the Box - Chapter 2

Outside the Box - Chapter 2

2 

“Jacob Tristan?” A technician calls from the back of the waiting room. “Your test results are in.” 

“Thank goodness.” My mom mumbles under her breath. “It’s been an hour and a half.” 

I sigh, shaking my head. 

Mom didn’t force me to go to school today, even though I don’t even half to leave the house. I just have to click on our little Holo-Teach and it’ll walk me through everything without putting me in any danger at all. But mom insisted on taking me to the doctor’s office. She wants to make sure nothing is wrong with me at all. 

I spent most of the morning enduring all kinds of physical and mental tests from a doctor named Doctor Clarke. The man seemed older than anyone I’ve ever met before, but he had no trouble hassling me or complimenting my mother on how well I’ve been fed. I swear, if he wasn’t a gazillion years old I’d swear he was trying to flirt with her. Dr. Clarke promised the test results would be in soon - how much money my mother spent getting the results in less than a week seems to be a lot. 

The technician leads us back to one of the rooms and closes the door behind her. Dr. Clarke is sitting on a stool in front of a Wall-Screen. 

“Well, he looks good.” Dr. Clarke sighs, and my mother releases the breath she’s been holding. “Average height, weight, pulse, everything. He’s about as average as it can get. What was the purpose in this visit exactly?” 

“His Date is in six days.” My mother says before I can stop her. Seriously, does she have to tell everyone? 

Dr. Clarke frowns. “Six days is super short for a boy his age. Well, there doesn’t seem to be a medical reason. Perhaps it’s an accident or a murder or something. You won’t be able to prevent it anyways.” 

I shove my head into my hands, wishing I had never turned fifteen and maybe that I’d never been born in the first place. 

Suddenly, like last night, the world goes dark. I let out a gasp, and I can tell both Dr. Clarke and my mother are staring at me. I grope blindly around, feeling the edge of the chair beneath me and the cold tile under my feet. It seems like my vision has just been lost. 

Just like before, words appear in the darkness. Unlike last time, there is a voice with it. I can;t distinguish a gender or age for the voice, but the words it leaves behind haunt me. 

Question your reality. This isn’t what it looks like. 

I regain vision and nearly pass out, but Dr. Clarke’s surprisingly strong arms hold me upright. My mother is staring at me, looking very concerned. “What happened?” She asks me. 

“Nothing.” I mumble, trying to pass it off as nothing. But it’s not. Someone is trying to talk to me, I just can’t tell who. 

My mother looks at Dr. Clarke. “Last night he slipped and fell. Do you have any idea what is going on?” Good, she doesn’t suspect anything else. If my mom knew that I was seeing and hearing things, I would be locked up for all of eternity. Or just until next week. 

Dr. Clarke thinks for a second. “Well, you see, I had a few patients come in last night who complained of losing their vision for a few seconds. One thought they saw a message, but we had already diagnosed that person as insane a few weeks prior. It makes me wonder if possibly Jacob is experiencing these attacks as well.” He turns to me. “Was it your vision that went black?” 

I hesitate. Last time I told my parents the truth they flipped out. I feel like if I tell Dr. Clake that I am having temporary blindness and hallucinations my mom will freak out and she’ll drug me or something. Who knows with her. 

“No, nothing like that.” I feign confusion. “It’s just some waves of nausea. But I also haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday.” I lie, but Dr. Clarke doesn’t exactly seem convinced. 

After a long moment of awkward silence, Dr. Clarke looks back to my mother. “I guess there’s nothing wrong then. Of course, we will retest all of his tests just to make sure we didn’t miss anything in the quick checks. I’ll call you back in four days.” 

“Okay, thank you…” My mother says suspiciously, still looking at me. 

I guess I’ll be getting off the hook after all. 

In our city there’s always been a rumor about cats. 

Most people don’t own pets because food for them is pretty expensive and you only get so much water, so it begins to cut out of your supplies. Plus, animal breeders don’t make much money, so it’s hard to find one - especially one who treats the animals correctly. 

My father had a dog when he was younger, but then his family couldn’t afford for the food and the dog was sent to the government for money. They claimed they would use the dog for police forces and stuff, but my dad said that he swore he heard the dog whimpering and thought they killed it. 

Dogs are more common pets because they’re loyal and energetic, and some believe that gangs don’t attack people with pets. 

But cats? Only weird old women and superstitious people own those. 

A lot of people think that cats have nine lives, and that if someone in your family dies the cat will give one of their lives to the person and bring them back. But really cats don’t live long enough for anyone to test it. Until now. 

My father comes home with a kitten today, and it’s the first time I’ve seen a live animal. 

The kitten has soft orange fur and olive colored eyes. I overhear my father telling my mom and Bridget that it was on the side of the road on the way to work. He washed it up, fed it, and asked his boss if he could keep it for the day. The boss said sure, and also offered some cat food from his old cat. 

Juliette and the kitten are sitting on the floor playing together. Mom and dad let me name the cat - much to Bridget’s dismay. Instead, I suggested we hold a vote. 

Our kitten is now named Eryl, which my mom says means guardian. My father says it sounds like a bookish name, which Bridget likes. Juliette can’t pronounce it and keeps calling Eryl “hair roll”. 

My mom says that I should get to know Eryl well because he’s my birthday present. 

I have to say, he is adorable. But Eryl prefers Bridget’s warm, calm lap to my constantly shifting one. He likes Juliette’s pudgy hands rather than my large ones. 

That night I’m allowed to pick what movie we watch for movie night. I’m allowed to choose what we have for dinner. I’m allowed to stay up with my dad and play our new console game, Escape From Paradise. 

My mom says Eryl should sleep in my room. She thinks I’m oblivious, but I know what’s going on. It was my Date that was predicted to be in a week. I’m the one who needs a guardian. Not Juliette. Not Bridget. 

As I’m lying in bed with a tiny Eryl purring softly next to me, my vision goes dark once again. This time, I’m prepared. I keep quiet and wait for the voice and the words. 

The Box is holding you back. 

This time, I can hear more of the voice. It’s distinctly feminine and not old at all. In fact, the girl sounds to be about my age. I remember what Dr. Clarke said about others having these attacks too. Do they hear the voices? Or am I just going insane? 

Or maybe, the voice don’t have to do with randomness. The more I think about it, I realize it must be a coincidence. 

Six days to live, more like five now. 

And all of the sudden, I’m hearing voices? Seeing messages? 

I stroke Eryl, feeling his soft fur and warm body under my fingers. For some reason, I don’t think even Eryl and his nine lives will protect me from what lies ahead. 

“What did you want to see us about?” Laura asks, rebraiding her dark hair for what seems like the fourteenth time. 

“Seriously, it’s like, what, nine in the morning?” Andrew yawns. “Besides, I haven’t left the house in months. Have you bought Escape From Paradise yet? I already have 208 hours on it, I’m about halfway done…” 

“Video games aside,” Laura rolls her eyes. “I’m sure Jake has a perfectly good reason to brig us here. And by the way, Jake, wasn’t your consultation with the Calculators a few days ago? How was it?” 

I flinch. I was hoping Laura and Andrew wouldn’t bring that up for a little while, maybe so I could forget. But it was hard enough to convince mom to let me leave the house. And it was even harder to convince Laura to ditch class and Andrew to get off his computer and come outside for once. His pale skin and pale hair reflect how much sunlight he sees. 

“That’s what I wanted to talk about…” I mumble, uncomfortable. Laura and Andrew don’t seem to notice. 

I called them earlier and asked if they could meet me at the park on Twelfth Avenue. Andrew and Laura were reluctant, but they agreed when I showed them Eryl and promised to bring him with me. 

Eryl is in his cage beside me, purring softly. Laura spent the first ten minutes cooing over him, and the tiny kitten loved the attention. 

“So, what’s your Date, man?” Andrew asks, reclining back on the bench. The park is empty except for us. “It can’t be that bad. Unless, maybe, it’s the same as mine. Are you afraid we’re soulmates? Afraid to spend the rest of your life with me?” He leans forward and pretends to smooch me. Laura frowns. 

“For the record, I believe in the whole soulmate thing.” She notes. 

“Gross.” I push Andrew away and he laughs. “I would rather die than spend the rest of my life with you. Can you imagine the smell?” 

My joke hits a sensitive spot with myself. 

“Are you okay, Jake?” Laura asks, suddenly concerned - just like my mother always is. 

“I did get my Date.” I reply slowly, the words more like sludge than a rushing waterfall. “I have five days left now.” 

Laura covers her mouth, her eyes glistening. Andrew laughs again, but when I don’t respond he realizes I was telling the truth. Laura throws her arms around me, silently sobbing. “Oh, Jake. You’re so young. So young.” 

“Tell me about it.” I groan, pulling her off. Even Andrew looks ready to cry. 

“Dude…” He mumbles, for once at a loss of words. 

“So this is just my goodbye. Mom won’t let me leave the house after today.” I sigh, rubbing my hands together nervously. I can feel the sweat slipping down my back, even though it isn’t warm outside. 

And then, just as before, the sky goes black. I sit as still as I can without making a sound. I can feel Laura grab my hand beside me, but I sit rigid against the bench. 

This time, the voice doesn’t have a gender or age, but I assume it is the same as last time. 

Hurry, you are their prisoner. 

The message seems more urgent than the last ones, but it still makes no sense. I regain my vision to find Laura and Andrew beside me, and find myself on the cement. 

Laura has a phone in her hand, about to dial. “He’s awake. You’re awake.” 

“What happened?” I ask. “I thought I was just sitting there.” 

“You were at first.” Andrew explains, mystified. “You were just sitting there, stiff as a board. Then you mumbled something about an intruder and then started thrashing. Laura managed to grab your heard before it hit the ground and I held your limbs down…” He pauses, overcome my emotion. 

“Is this about your Date?” Laura asks quietly, putting her phone away. 

I shrug, getting to my feet. “It’s nothing.” 

“It isn’t nothing!” Laura cries, tears springing to her eyes again. “My neighbor - Mrs. Tinkle - has been having similar things. Last night, she passed out, said something about floating words, and hit her head on her bathtub. Then she was sent to the hospital where she died. On her Date.” 

“It’s not like that.” I say. “I simply haven’t been eating as well.” This is a total lie, I had pancakes for breakfast this morning - a new thing for me. “Just hand me Eryl. My mom wanted me home by now.” 

Andrew quietly hands me the cage with the mewling kitten. I storm away, wondering if this will be the last time I ever see them. 

Eryl is practically snatched out of my hands by the time I return home. Bridget apparently doesn’t forgive me from taking him to the park. Eryl doesn’t seem to mind, he bats her braid with a tiny paw. 

“So, how was it?” My mom asks as she hands Juliette an apple slice. My sister shoves it in her mouth, barely even chewing before begging for more. 

“Good.” I shrug. Mom would freak if she found out that I stormed off from Laura and Andrew. Then I’d probably have to tell her about blacking out again and the new development with the thrashing and then I’d probably never see the light of day again. 

“Oh, honey.” My mom dashes over to me and wraps me in a hug. 

“Apwel!” Juliette shrieks from the table and my mom lets me go. I catch Bridget rolling her eyes. Mom hands Juliette another slice of apple. 

“Don’t eat it all at once.” My mom sighs as Juliette shoves another slice into her mouth. “That was the last apple package.” 

“When does the next delivery come?” Bridget asks from the couch. 

“Not until next week. Trade from outside the city is quite difficult right now.” My mother shrugs, feeding Juliette the last of the apple. “We have plenty of food though. And even though apples are her favorite, we still have plenty of other fruit for Juliette. 

“Can I go for a walk?” I ask suddenly. I don’t know what made me say it, but I want to be alone. Mom and Bridget study me, looking both startled and confused. 

“I mean, why?” Mom asks, picking up Juliette.
I shrug, pretending it doesn’t mean much. But suddenly, I have an idea and I want to follow through on it. Quickly, I come up with a cover story. “Just because I won’t be leaving the apartment much more. I can say goodbye to the librarian and the …” 

My mother is tearing up again and she nods, forcing a smile on her face before shooing me out the door. Bridget doesn’t say anything, but I can tell she’s more than a little suspicious. 

It doesn’t matter. I know exactly where I’m headed. 

It’s noon by now and my stomach is growling. I glance longingly at the food vendors parked along the streets of the business district. 

They probably would serve me, but I don’t have much money on me right now and their products are misleading. My father has gotten food poisoning on nine different occasions now from eating at the vendors. Still, he likes to support local businesses. 

I hurry down the sidewalk before any of them can see me - both the vendors and the men and women in suits. Any of them could be coworkers of my dad, and if they were to see me… let’s just say my dad works at a news company. Lately, the news has been going well since there’s so much to report - the Processors breaking, the food shortage, and so much more. But most of his friends are chatty. Besides, I’m nowhere near the library and mom would kill me if she found out I lied. 

I keep my head down and continue walking, only one destination on my mind - the edge of the city. 

I know that my parents have never left. No one I’ve ever asked about it has ever left. But maybe if there is a way to escape, maybe if there’s somewhere to go, there Calculators won’t be able to predict my death there. 

And maybe, just maybe, there’s somewhere else out there. Somewhere where I won’t die next week. 

Five days. 

I stop at the train station, buy a ticket, and board the train. The sleek, modern touch makes the ride smoother than the stainless steel walls of the train. The seats are extra comfortable (almost like memory foam, but not) so that riders will fall asleep, miss their stop, and have to pay more for another ride. 

Luckily, I’m too restless to relax. I watch as the blur of the city flies and the train takes its route. Finally, I am dropped off at the end of the route at a tiny station. The cement is dark and moist with mold. No one really rides to the end of the city anymore. No one lives out here. 

I find my way back into the sunlight, checking my map on my Port-Tech. 

Port-Tech is a relatively new invention that lets citizens embed a chip into their wrists. All they have to do is think about opening a map, a keypad or message group, or whatever they’re looking for and it appears projected in front of them. I don’t know how it works, but everyone is given one when they’re born now. 

I open my map and make sure I’m heading the right way. Sure I am, I continue my way down the street. The sun casts small shadows but they seem to stretch in the lack of fluorescent screens of billboard ads, making me question my safety. 

My parents always warned me that it wasn’t safe to visit the outskirts of the city. There are people there waiting to leave - waiting for what they didn’t say. 

They’re the people that can’t afford houses. The people that murder for food. The people that everyone always is afraid of, even me. 

But as I walk no one pops out at me and attacks me. No one jumps from a garbage can and points a knife at my throat. I just walk, keeping the Calculator building directly behind me to ensure I’m going the right way. 

I walk and walk, one foot in front of the other. There has to be something out here. 

The buildings go on forever - and that’s not an exaggeration. My feet grow sore and my muscles tired. I should probably start making my way back to the apartment soon for food. But it feels like I should be growing closer… 

I’m about to check for the Calculator building again, but instead of it being behind me I discover the skyscraper is in front of me. 

I glance behind me and see an endless row of buildings. 

That’s … odd. The city isn’t a circle, and I walked straight, never turning around. So how did I end up on this side of the city. I turn around and walk back the way I came. 

Soon, the Calculator building is before me again, even though I turned around. 

Except this time I’m not alone. 

There’s a lone figure sitting on a dumpster a few feet away. I notice that they’re holding a silver knife, polishing the sharp blade. I take a step backwards, prepared to run if I need to. 

The figure leaps off the dumpster, their face covered by black cloth. I can tell the figure is female, the slick curves of her body prove that she’s merely a woman. But her knife is coming closer, pointed at my stomach. One hit and I bleed out. No one else is out here. 

“I don’t have any money, food, or anything of that sort.” I say, holding out my hands for peace like a surrender. “I won’t tell anyone I saw you here…” 

“But you did.” The woman says, her accent thick and her voice low, like Eryl’s purring. But he makes me feel safe. This woman is threatening me. “You saw me, you know that I am here. What if they ask? Will you tell them when they torture you?” 

I’m confused - both by the weird city and by this woman. “Who are you talking about?” 

The woman shrugs. “There are many people in this world who would like to see me dead. Many people.” 

“I am not one of them.” I take another step backwards as the woman takes another forwards. “I don’t care whether you’re alive or dead. My own life on the other hand is kind of important to me…” 

The woman rolls her eyes, the only things visible from outside of the mask. “You’ve got cheek, I’ll give you that. But we have a strict no-witness rule.” 

I here a snarl from behind me, and then I realize why the woman didn’t just stab me. She’s not alone. The woman throws off her mask, smiling wickedly. She looks younger than I expected, no more than seventeen with dark hair and long eyelashes. She waves at me before someone grabs me from behind, rough hands pinning my arms to my sides. 

The woman - or girl, more like it - skips over to me and ties a cloth around my head so it covers my nose and mouth. Immediately, I begin to feel dizzy as I inhale the sickly sweet scent of the sedative. “Please.” I try to say, but the moan that escapes my lips doesn’t sound like a word at all. The girl smiles, high-fiving one of boys that creeps out of the alley. This must’ve been her initiation or something. 

“Goodbye, my sweet friend.” The girl laughs and my eyes close, sending me spiraling into darkness. 

Hot. That’s what my room is. Burning. Sweltering. Sweat dribbles down my back. I open my eyes, head throbbing. 

Flames. 

Smoke. 

I’m on fire. 

Okay, after a moment of panic and hyperventilating a bit I realize it’s not be that’s on fire but the tiny room I appear to be in. Not that that’s any better. 

I spit a gag out of my mouth, finding that my legs and arms are tied down to a wooden chair. I feel the thick rope wrapped around my wrists and suddenly get a terrible idea. But I need to live, and it’s the only way. 

The gang probably left me in here to burn. Why didn’t they just stab me? It’s beyond me, but it’s probably to make a statement. They burn buildings all the time to show the Calculators that Dates don’t scare them. I wonder if half of those gang members even go to the consultations. Probably not. 

I scoot my chair backwards towards the flames on the outer edges of the room. The smell of the smoke makes me dizzy - it seems sweeter than normal. Chemicals maybe? 

I’m at the edge of the flames now. I can feel them burning against me, even though I’m not touching them … not yet. I inhale to the best of my ability with the smoke pouring in at me and thrust my hands into the flames. 

Immediately, I yell out in pain as the fire burns my skin. I feel a tear drip down my cheek, and pull my hands out of the flames. Just as I hoped, my rope is on fire. It soon burns enough for me to rip it off. Then I get to work on my feet, fighting through the pain that burns on my hands. 

My feet are soon untied and I stand quickly. The whole room is surrounded by flames now, there’s no way out by through them. But I don’t know the best way to exit. 

Not far away, there’s a window on one of the walls. I wonder if I can jump… 

A blast of water throws me to the hard ground, knocking the breath out of me. In my effort to keep breathing I inhale more smoke. I start to cough, hard. It shakes my sides, racks my whole body. I keel over, trying to move away from the spreading flames. 

“There’s someone in here!” Someone yells, although it sounds muffled. “Murphy, grab the person and let’s go. The building is going to collapse!” 

I feel strong arms wrap around me and lift me up. The person stumbles not long after carrying me through the first barrier of flames. I wrap my arms around their neck, holding tight despite the pain in my hands. The person seems grateful for my help and seems to move a bit quicker. The warmth begins to fade and the sky is bright above me - but not orange. 

I’m outside! I survived the fire! 

“Someone call the doctors. This boy is injured!” Someone calls, and I hear people scrambling to get help. My eyes are fluttering open and shut. 

I hear a gruff voice laugh as I’m laid down on the sidewalk. I let go of the person’s neck and he stands up, casting a shadow over me. “Go to sleep, kid. You’ll be fine. We’ve got it from here.” 

I try to nod, wincing in pain, before once again I let the darkness take over me.