REID

NO

A single word, so thinly carved into the base of his wrist. Shocked, his eyes could only follow the small trail of blood as it bubbled from the broken skin and staining the white sheets he was laying on. Letting out a shuttering breath, the young man slowly begins to shift his focus the culprit of his wound.

There, she sat on the edge of his bed. Her silk pajamas adorning her slim frame, pressed and wrinkle-free. Her long brown hair pulled back into a simple bun. A butter knife pinched between her slender fingers.

It’s his mother.

“This isn’t real Reid. You need to see this isn’t real.” The smile on her face fails to match the eerie and panicked tone of her voice. She pulls a heart-shaped locket from the pocket of her pajamas. Reid sits rigid. Struggling to comprehend his mother’s words.

“You need to stop taking the pills and then you’ll see the destruction I see and feel the pain I feel.” She smiles again, eyes darting. From one side of the room to another. Reid follows the quick whips of his mother’s head. Yet he only sees the four walls his bedroom.

Her posture stiffens as her eyes turned into the window. She stares, frozen in place. For a moment Reid thinks he sees a twitch of desperation in her eyes.

She yanks his bloody wrist toward her. Dropping the locket in his hand and forcing his fingers closed to squeeze the cold metal. She then jabs her finger at the wound, now red and puffy.

“Hold on to this. Use it remember me and to remember my words. I have to go.”

“What isn’t real?” Reid grabs his mother by her shoulders . Forcing her attention to him.

“THIS !” She lunges at Reid scrapping her sharp fingernails down his eyes leveling behind trails of blood

Panicked Reid begins to scream, “Mom ! mom what are doing to me? WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ----”

Reid’s eyes shoot open. He squints at the morning sunlight that has invaded his vision. Slowly sitting up, Reid examines the room. Nothing out of the ordinary. He sighs and lays back down, taking the opportunity to bask in the silence of the early morning. Reid allows what little thoughts he has roam the cortex of his mind.

“Today is day 3 as marked by the calendar. That means cereal for breakfast. Oatmeal is better but cereal will do.”

Reid looks out the window, pausing. His mind drifts back to his dream. He doesn’t ever recall having a dream like that before, but ever since his mother disappeared and his father passed away the dream has become more intense… more real.

The community alarm chimes out in the heavenly tune of church bells, breaking the silence and pulling Reid from the darkness of his thoughts.

The chimes stop. The preppy voice of a woman beings to speak in its place. “Good Morning populates.”

Reid replies to himself, “Good Ms. Lippy.”

Ms. Lippy was in charge of the community announcements and relaying messages from the “R” to the public. Just like the “R” her true identity has never been revealed. Only her voice played through speakers and over cartoon images.

“…And remember populates, it takes a well-rounded community to create an outstanding society. So do your part because the “R” and I are always watching. Now get out there and make the world great!”

Ms. Lippy’s announcement comes to an end, signifying it’s time to start the day. Reid stands up and stretches the tight muscles in his back.

“Time to start the day… the right way.” He mumbles to himself.

No part of his morning routine faltered or shifted. First he makes his bed, tucking the corner of his sheets to perfection and placing the pillows in their designated spots.

Reid removes his pajamas, folding and placing them at the foot of the bed. He then changes into black work pants and a white collared button down with the community logo on the left breast.

Like clockwork, Reid arrives at his front door just as the mailman knocks. Like every day, Reid collects his daily pills. However, today is special. The mailman hands him a red envelope before biding him a goodbye and moving on the next house.

Breakfast consists of a simple bowl of corn flakes and he designated morning pill. As he scoops the bland cereal into his mouth he stares at red envelope. Individualized mail was a rare occasion. As he takes the last bite he pushes the bowl away and picks up the envelope. Gently, Reid peels back the adhesive. Inside is a thick cream colored paper with black ink written on it.

It was a reminder for the community wake ceremony, that means his father’s body is being cremated today. Reid tucks the paper in his breast pocket and leaves for work.

Outside, his neighbors follow suit. Each shutting the door to their identical homes and proceeding in the community work division.

Reid worked in the numbers division. He calculated equations given by the supervisors that were then sent to the “R”. He never knows what the equations were for, but if the “R” needed them then they must be important. His father used to work in the pills division. One day a faulty piece of equipment caused a section of the division to collapse and Reid’s father was one of the 143 people who died.

Reid went through his work day as normal. Punching numbers and logging them into one massive computer. When the end of the day came the church bells rang and the voice of Ms. Lippy entered the vicinity to congratulate the populates on another successful day.

At this time Reid would be going home to watch the evening announcements and nightly entertainment program. But today was special. Reid walks into the direction of the community square. There, in the middle of the square, was a large, portable incinerator and a row of body bags.

Reid is handed a program that contained a list of the dead. No one’s name was used, only their community id number. Reid scans through the list looking for his father’s number. A low, mundane voice cuts through a mic advising attendees to take their seats.

Reid sits awkwardly in an empty row toward the back. He watches as numbers are called and bodies are thrown into the incinerator. Ash filled the sky and the sweet smell of flesh burned Reid’s nose.

18594-3975 … another body burned… 18594-3991… another life over.

Finally the number he’d memorized all his life is called.

“… 4472.” And there his father’s body went into the incinerator. Reid stands, walking to the table next to the announcer. He is handed his father’s death certificate and an anti-grievance pill.

With his attention on the certificate Reid doesn’t see that his shoe is untied. He falls, scrapping his knees and dropping the pill. As Reid reached for the pill he notices the scarred NO on his wrist. He stiffens as the dream and voice of his mother reenter his mind.

Stop taking the pills

He rolls the pill in between his fingers. Reid looks around to see if anyone is watching him. Dropping the pill on the ground, Reid takes a deep breath and crushes the pill under his shoe.

Later that night, while eating dinner Reid is hit with an unexplainable feeling. He drops his spoon back into the bowl of soup.

This was sadness.

And it sucked.

The next morning Reid goes through his routine. He meets the mailman at the door and collects his daily pills. He takes the pills to the bathroom and flushes before leaving for work.

So far, nothing has changed, the world is completely normal and Reid starts to doubt his mother’s words. Like clockwork, the work day ends and Reid finds himself watching the evening entertainment program. Tonight was an old episode of Bugs Bunny.

It hits him at dinner once again. The taste and texture of his chicken suddenly change. Reid gags, rolling the mushy clump of tasteless gunk around his mouth. He shallows and pokes at the food on his plate. He hesitantly places another piece of chicken in his mouth, surprised that the taste returned to normal.

That night, Reid is getting ready for bed when he sees something glisten out of the corner of his eye. He reaches under his bed and pulls out the heart-shaped locked his mother had left behind. He slips the necklace around his neck and closes his eyes. Hopefully he will understand soon.

2 Weeks Later or the unbearable passage of time

Reid stares at his gaunt appearance in the bathroom mirror. He stopped eating, unable to stomach the new, unforgiving taste of his food. Deep circles the now lay under his eyes. Sleep has been impossible with the disembodied sounds and strange smells that invade his mind with no sense of stopping.

He avoids work. Laying on his bedroom floor. The pile of pills getting larger and larger by the day. The once voice cheerful of Ms. Lippy has morphed into the distorted, harsh voice of a man that Reid can no longer bear to hear.

That night he plunges his ears to finally get some rest. The noise doesn’t disappear but it's dull enough that he can close his eyes peacefully.

When Reid opens his eyes the next morning, he sees. Then he cries. The white walls of his bedroom are grey and dirty with chipping paint. His plush bed is nothing more than an old twin mattress on the floor. Reid slowly stands, removing the rolled up paper from his ears. He stumbles out of the room when he hears the mailman knocking on the door.

Reid swings the door open. Rather than the mailman in front of him, he sees a six foot male orderly dressed in white scrubs.

Reid stares at him, “Who the hell are you?”

The orderly gulps and presses a button on his pager.

“I said, who the hell are you !?” Reid lunges at the orderly, tackling him to the ground as an alarm begins to blare. Reid squeezes the orderly’s neck and slams his head on the concrete floor until he stops moving.

Reid stands taking in his environment. What should be the outside of his neighborhood is only a dingy hallway with a series of identical doors. Reid shakily reaches down the front of his shirt. He pulls out a piece of thread with an old soda can tab tied to the end of it, his mother’s locket.

She was right.

The sound of footsteps pulls Reid away from his thoughts. He runs down the opposite stairwell and outside.

He runs. He keeps running, trying to avoid looking at the broken reality that now surrounds him. People chained to one another, decrepit and miserable. The sky ash grey and the air is too thick to breath in. He vision blurred by his tears. Reid doesn’t see the metal fence as he crashes into it. He drops to the ground

He hears his id called “4474, stay where you are!” Guards clad in heavy armor and guns begin to surround him.

“My name is Reid.” He cries out in desperation. Reid tries to stand and approach the guard.

“STAY RIGHT THERE 4474 !” A gun is cocked.

“Please, my name is Reid. What is this place?” Reid’s body becomes weaker by the moment.

He becomes more irate “ What is this place!? What is this is place!? WHAT IS THIS PL----”

The gun is fired. Reid looks down at the blood blossoming through his shirt. He drops to the ground once more. The guards surround him, waiting until his stops breathing.

“Another one down, just like his a mother.” Says one of the guards.

They roll Reid onto his back, throwing his limb body into a body bag. The front of the zipped bag reads:

Reichmann. Emotional. Interference. Division.