First Meeting

Getting started

I've never really had memories of when I was a child. Now when I try to think about my childhood, it almost seems like an impossible task. Not that it makes me any different, being that most cannot remember but one thing in particular has always been the main focus of my one memory and the countless dreams. It's a pair of eyes. One of the most beautiful set of eyes I have ever seen. What's most magical about them is the color. I've never seen a set of eyes so blue. Bluer than the sky and oceans that match it. Pale blue eyes under a set of dark lashes, making them only more mesmerizing.

Looking back, I cannot decide whether I imagined them or not. The first time I saw them I was a small girl , playing outside my family's home. It was a beautiful spring day. Well, almost spring since the air was still chilly. I was outside simply admiring the scenery in front of me. The vast hills that seemed to never end, casting dark shadows over the horizon. A sky that was almost entirely blue with only a few traces of clouds here and there. The sun beaming down on me, providing warmth to my cold skin.
I remember every instant of my dream or memory. I still remember what I wore. I was in a lacy white dress that fell just above the knee. A trail of intricate stitching made its way up the entire right side, providing a pattern of what was meant to be vines. On top of that was a small lilac sweater that fell open, exposing the sweetheart neckline of the delicate dress, paired with plain white flats while my hair flew down my back, just above my waist line. I shivered as the wind blew continuous puffs of cold air through me.
I walked up to the smallest of the hills to sit under the grand cherry blossom tree that stood at the very top. And there they were. Those eyes. Unlike anything I've ever seen before. To my knowledge, eyes like that were lost traits, something that hadn’t appeared genetically in over hundreds years. But here they were, standing in front me. Staring at me. Their host was a boy. Maybe my age or a bit older. It was hard to tell.
I stayed where I was and examined him. He didn't seem real. He was tall, with small freckles on his face, only visible on the spots where the sun hit; long, dark brown hair hung on his forehead. He was all in black. As I assessed him, he seemed to be doing the same to me, eyeing me ever so closely with those mysterious eyes. I got closer and then I heard it. A sound so lovely it nearly brought tears to my eyes. It was sad sound, full of agony and beauty all at once. It came from alongside the boy. I looked down to his feet and there, delicately perched on the root of the tree was a small box where the sound came from. It was a magical sound. It was perfect.

As I moved forward the boy was more taken aback. He seemed almost in shock that I approached him. He looked scared. I stood in front of him, only a couple steps away from his face and looked at him more thoroughly. He had a lovely face. It looked soft and kind and yet full of sadness. Just like the music.

“Hello” I said to him, almost coming out as a whisper.

“Why are you here?” he asked with definite fear in voice.

“I live here. My home is just below this hill. Over there” I pointed down. “I’ve never seen you here. Who are you?”

“Someone you should not even be speaking to. I should leave” he looked down at his box, reaching for it and then quickly closed the lid. The beautiful sound disappeared instantly.

“Don’t do that. Don’t close it. Is that what’s making the sound?” I asked, intrigued.

“You don’t find it disturbing? Repulsive even?” he asked shocked.

I was slightly taken aback by his question. How could anyone find it disturbing?

“Of course not, why would it? That sound is probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard” My voice grew softer.

“I just always thought no one would like it. No one ever has” he looked down as he said those words

“Maybe you’ve shown the wrong types of people” I smiled at him. This made him gasp which in turn made me frown once again.

“Whats wrong? Is there something on my face?” I touched my cheeks.

“No, uh not at all. It’s just that, well your smile. I’ve never seen anything like it. I didn’t know people could have anything like that on their faces”

“Anything like what exactly? Is there something wrong with me?” I asked.

“No, no. Absolutely not. But when you smile, tiny holes appear around your mouth. Kind of midway through your cheeks.”

“Really? I never noticed. Does it look awful?” I was suddenly very shy.

“No, they’re lovely” he whispered. I blushed at this. And then all too quickly, it was over. A man in a dark suit was heading our way from the boy’s direction. He had a cold presence about him even from a distance. Colder than anything I was used to. He was in an all-black suit and shiny shoes. Hair so dark it nearly appeared blue with the suns trace. He reached us sooner than I expected and grabbed the boy by his hand without saying a word and began pulling him away. The boy didn’t even seem surprised. He very easily let the dark stranger take him away. I stood there; scared of the man and what he was doing to the boy I’d only just met. He looked back and smiled at me for the last time as he disappeared down the other half of the hill.

From then on, I could never accurately say whether this really happened or whether it was a dream. After a while, I always assumed it to be dream since those pale blue eyes would almost too frequently appear in my dreams. It was the same scene, over and over again. The cherry tree, the sound and the eyes.

And almost too suddenly, I awoke. It seemed too real, like it just happened. I’m nearly blinded by the sun that’s directly hitting my face. It’s warm, which I know is a lie being that it’s mid-winter outside. This was my favorite part of the day, just lying in bed. Feeling the warm softness of my sheets before heading out onto a day just like every other day I have lived or will live. Every day had a routine; which varied, depending on the day but always rotated weekly. I got out of bed in a daze, too quickly, causing blood to rush to my head, temporarily making me dizzy. I stretched and headed for the bathroom for my morning shower and toiletries. I can count exactly how long it takes almost to the very second. By the time I finish in the bathroom it will be exactly 7:47. I walk out of the bathroom and look at the digital clock resting on my nightstand and there, in blinking blue lights was the exact time. 7:47. By the time I put on my uniform, brush my hair, grab my belongings and leave, it will be exactly 8:16. As I finish my morning routine almost quicker than usual, I look down my watch and bam! It’s exactly 8:16.

Making my way to class is always a different experience, simply because there is always something new happening. Walking in the cold air today brought something unexpected and yet completely normal. Someone jumped from the roof again. I don’t even have to be too close to the scene to know it is just that. The signs are always the same. A team of paramedics stood in a huddle in front of a very tall building, with emergency vehicles not too far behind them. All of them silent as they try to assess the already deceased body of whoever jumped this time.  Someone coming from one of the large trucks with a black bag, ready to take the body away. And finally, the last telltale signs of someone jumping are the two adults standing away from the paramedics, not saying anything. Just standing there as if already knowing that this was coming. These two sets in particular, did not stand out from the many others I have seen in my life. Their faces are always the same. It’s the default expression that everyone else wears all the time. Which is always the same, never changing even after their child’s death. I cannot exactly be judgmental, since everyone reacts the same way. I’ve never experienced loosing anyone, but I’m sure just like the others, I’ll also be unaffected by something so common.

I got closer to the scene, since the building was right next to mine and heard a name. Jeremy Lars, a boy from my class. There never seemed to be anything wrong with him, or so it appeared to me throughout the entire three years that we shared a classroom. The only thing that I can remember ever being odd was that after classes, he always went to meet a girl all dressed in black. Now her, there was something very difficult to trace in.  I could never put my finger on it, but she was odd. Mysterious, maybe even a bit dangerous, but definitely odd.

I passed through the paramedics, making my way into the class building. Passed the long corridors of the school building to my class and sat in the same seat I have sat in for who knows how long. I put my books down and waited the five minutes it took everyone else to arrive and the extra two minutes for my professor to accommodate his belongings and begin the lesson.

Throughout the entire course, I was only half listening, still dazed by this morning’s dream. Usually when it happens, it’s in only glimpses. The entirety of it scattered into whatever fragments they happen to appear in, but this time however, it was more vivid that I have ever experienced it to be. It was like I was there, really meeting the boy for the first time. My heart jumped from the very thought of it being possible. It was a strange sensation, somehow nostalgic. I was soon awakened from my daydream by the sound of the long bell, ending our class. I hastily made my way through a large group of students into my other classes. But as each class progressed, I still couldn’t shake the sensation the dream had left me with and I continued to daydream about it till the end of the day.

 ­­­diery  ejumped from even the y you tried to make it happen. ven appy. what  once and live completely death. for __________________________________________

By the end of each day I can’t help but wonder if anything different might happen. This does not happen very often but today, specifically because of the dreams, I can’t help but desire something. I cannot ever decide what it is but I know there is something missing. This is the last class of the day and on the ever rare day that these thoughts occur, I always want something more. I look outside and see the last of the autumn leaves falling to the ground; the very last traces of embers that once lighted the scenery of our beloved school now gone. Something about seeing the bare trees against the brittle winter made my chest ache.

The last bell rang as I gathered my objects and walked out the main doors. I have walked out these set of doors countless times in my life. Everything was the same. The massive metal doors opened automatically as any approaching person came, exposing what little color there was still around. The outside seemed no different than the inside of any building. Outside of the building there are stone walkways that lead to more building. Small boxes of dispensers are placed in nearly every corner imaginable. These small silver boxes contained anything that anyone might ever want in them. A sign of just how far technology has gotten. Or so the adverts claimed them to be. Apart from these small boxes were messaging screens that everyone always seemed to be starring it. The screens displayed basic information, that being the time, schedules, job linings, newborns, pairings and so on. All the displays immediately catching everyone’s interest, making them stop in their tracks for even a glance as to what they were to expect. Their lives being broadcasted for the world to see in every street corner possible. As I passed by one, I checked my statistics before catching the shuttle back to my flat. I swiped my card below screen and in the blink of an eye, everything about me was on the screen. All my physical features, my personal health data, and the school’s I have attended. It was nothing that set me apart from anyone else in any particular way. These statistics would have matched anyone else but the one thing different on my screen than anyone else’s was the name. In bright gold letters my name read: Sophia Charles. I was from a noble family it seemed. When I was younger, it was explained to me why this was something of importance. People that explained it to me claimed that my ancestors helped design the world as it is. An act that seemed impossible but as the years passed, I stopped questioning what exactly it was that my predecessors did.

I pressed the screen to the scheduling section and read it carefully. As I predicted, there was nothing different about it than any other schedule I had ever received. I printed out a copy, scanned my palm to confirm and walked away from the screen. I looked ahead and saw as many people passed me by. Most of them nodded at me, while others examined papers in front of them. It looked silly.  It wasn’t as if there would be anything different about the same papers they read every day. Yet who am I to say anything. Here I am with a copy of a schedule that I had received time and time again. I quickly reached the shuttle and noticed the girl that Jeremy always seemed to be with. She was staring at the building that he jumped out of with deep interest. Today however, there was something different about her. The times that I have seen her, she seemed dangerous, different even from everyone else. But today, she had the same default look that everyone wore. But it wasn’t just that. I can’t exactly say what it is. I didn’t realize I was staring at her until she looked directly at me. She took off her glasses and stared right back at me. Her eyes looked red, irritated by something perhaps. They were even a bit enlarged. I can’t exactly say what it was about her eyes that differed from everyone else. Mine even. As we stared at each other, the shuttle approached me, blocking her from my sight. I was almost in trance without even realizing it. I shook my head and walked up the small flight of stairs that led to the main section of the massive shuttle. I scanned my card, took my designed seat and looked out the window to try and get a second glance at the mysterious girl but as soon as she appeared before me, she was gone. Seeing her staring at the building made me very curious as to why she would do something like that. His family did not even take a second glance at the building, let alone return to the sight where it happened. She seemed more affected by it, even with her default face on. It was something very odd to see.

My attention returned back to the shuttle. The size of this very shuttle was massive. Large enough to hold hundreds of people; an impressive number of people, but nothing that was of true credibility. Most shuttles now could. My assigned seating was near the closest exit and it was the shortest commute; one of only 9 minutes. I looked toward the middle portion of the shuttle and noticed the large messaging screen the rotating throughout the entire first floor. It showed listings of people and their future jobs and opportunities. There in large blue printing was a man named Issac Fanigan. He was a man of 6’2, an average height. Below his picture was his birth date, blood type and school’s he had attended. The screen rotated once again away from me. Then his age, eye color, and address were showed. His chart also showed his life span as it had played out and how it will play out from here on out. On the time line, it read he will soon meet his partner. It will be in two weeks and the woman’s name is Hannah Carrie. They will have a courtship of 16 weeks and soon after he will ask for her hand and marry. Below his time line was map of the city and where on it he could be found. He’s apparently on this very shuttle. It will take him sixteen minutes to arrive to his flat. As of now, that’s it all it will say. This is the way it is with everyone. Small portions of citizen’s lives broadcasted for everyone to see. This was something that the very citizens didn’t even know themselves. Everyone had to either check their personal files to see this information or wait for it to be shown on telescreens throughout various parts of the city. His files soon were closed and the words “CONGRADULATIONS” flashed on the screen before it moved onto its next victim.