The Happiest City on Earth!

The blinker on my wristband flashes red again signalling that I’m due for my monthly cleansing.

Outside a car horn sounds, startling me from my thoughts. My daughter has come to pick me up to take me to the cleansing centre.

I head to the front door, scooping up my lucky charm and slide it into my pocket. An old photograph from before the final war stares back at me. A fit, healthy version of me with a full head of hair and a gorgeous woman in my arms at the beach. I laugh bitterly, I can’t even remember who she was, but I look nothing like that now. I have no need for the cleansing, but if I could have it take away one thing it would be my regret at having grown old.

I stagger down the steps outside to where my daughter’s sleek auto waits in the driveway.

“Come on, you’ll be late” she cries, waving her arm out the window.

“I don’t even know why I need to go” I grumble as I hop into the car.

“What are they going to cleanse from me? The bad weather last week? My bread going mouldy?” I say and my daughter just laughs.

“Come on Dad, it’s important”.

“I know, I know”.

I stare out the window as the car pulls out, looking out at the ruined city scape of New York in the distance. The cleansings are mandatory. Each month all citizens of Monopolis are subjected for cleansing, washing away any negative emotions that occurred within the past month. Had a bad week? Boss getting on your nerves? Trouble with your neighbour? let it all be gone. For the first time ever cleansing allowed people to properly let things go of all the trivial pettiness in their lives and get on with living.

Despite having nothing remotely troubling to remove from my retiree lifestyle, maintaining a clean status is required to attend all shops and public facilities. And besides, what’s the price of having a few negative emotions stripped away for securing the closest thing to paradise on earth?

Monopolis city had been created from the ruins of New York and was the first in the world to trial the emotional cleansing program almost two decades ago. The results had quickly become apparent. Monopolis is now the shining gem of the modern world. With a 99.7% citizen cleanliness rating, the city has safer streets, less crime and almost zero violence or self-harm. The new world government were now rolling out cleansing centres in all remaining major cities across the globe.

I watch the ruined houses blur past till we enter the new city. The streets here are clean and tranquil as people go about their lives, happy and safe. A world without war, anger, resentment or fear. It was a technological marvel. The gem unearthed by the final war. After witnessing the destruction of New York peace was never something I thought I’d see again within my life time. Monopolis, truly was that chance at peace on earth.

“Thanks for driving” I say, idly double checking my pocket to make sure my lucky charm is still there.

“It’s fine dad”.

This had become their little ritual, their monthly catch-up as she drove him to his regular cleansing.

“Have you heard anything from your sister?” I ask but she shakes her head.

“No. She still refuses to talk to us. Thinks we’re monsters for being cleansed. Something about mum” and I just laugh at the bitter irony.

“She thinks us monsters for doing the cleansing, and yet she’s the one with all the negative emotions that refuses to talk to her own family. Classic unclean isn’t it” I say, staring out the window at the pristine white obelisk in the distance that stands at the centre of Monopolis.

“I know right” says my daughter, and we share a momentary smile.

We soon arrive at the Cleansing Administration Department building, the shining white obelisk at the heart of Monopolis. Security keep protesters in line as they chant and carry signs. From the red lights of their wristbands, I can tell at a glance that they’re the unclean. The final stragglers and tin foil hats of the old world who’d refused to change, come to shout their opinions at people going about their business.

“You can’t strip me of my humanity” cries one through a megaphone.

“Unclean or clean, we’re all people. We belong in public places too. I love my fear”. These are the kind of signs they carry.

My daughter helps me from the car and we head over towards the cleansing centre. Security staff hold back at the unclean protestors as they harass and jeer and my daughter steers me away from them as we pass.

“You have abandoned your humanity!” cries someone, tossing a drink that splatters on the pavement in front of us.

. “Honestly, I don’t know why they still let them in the city” she mutters and it’s a relief when the glass doors open up, ushering us away from the rabble outside.

Inside the enormous building dozens of officials in lab coats walk about, leading people off to be cleansed.

“Welcome to the cleansing centre” chirps a cheerful automated voice. “An attendee will be with you shortly” and our wrist bands beep, indicating they’ve been scanned as we passed through the door.

Sure enough moments later a lady dressed in a white lab coat arrives.

“Mr Jones?” she asks, and I nod. “This way please” she gestures.

“I’ll meet you outside” says my daughter and I nod her farewell, touching my good luck charm for reassurance as she leaves me. I follow the lady to an elevator and we soon reach the 15th floor, stepping out into a corridor leading off to dozens of rooms. Green lights buzz outside the doors indicating a cleansing is in progress.

We head for one with a red light above the door, stepping into an all-white room with clean reflective walls. In the centre is the cleansing chair, similar to what one might find at a dentists except for the metallic spiderlike contraption that hovers over the head-rest like some implement of torture.

Immediately at the sight of it my skin begins to crawl unexplainedly.

“Take a seat” says the doctor and I hesitate, sliding into the chair. I shuffle in an attempt to get comfortable, the synthetic leather cold beneath me. The contraption hangs above my head and I feel a sudden sense of dread wells up in my chest. Relax. You’ve done this before. I take a deep breath trying to calm myself, and reach for the cool metal of my good luck charm for reassurance.

“It’s alright” says the lady seeing my distress. “It’s perfectly normal to feel some discomfort beforehand” she says, though I’ve never felt like this before. It’s just nerves. I look up at my reflection in the ceiling and cast a smile at myself for reassurance, laughing in spite of myself.

“If you’re ready, we’ll begin” says the doctor and I give her a nervous nod before returning my attention to the ceiling above. A light goes green above the doorway, signifying that a cleansing is in progress and then the head piece comes down. Every part of me wants to run, but I remain calm, focusing on my breathing and the smooth metal in my pocket as the machine comes down, latching its pincers to my skelp.

A bright light pierces through my mind, flooding it with memories and suddenly I’m back. Everything about the white room forgotten as a girl stands before me. We’re at the beach, running on the sand as she leads me by the hand. Sarah. The woman from the photograph by the door and I know it’s not the first time I’ve been through it. Another flash and I smile. It’s our wedding day. Sarah stands before me at the altar, dressed in white and beautiful. I brush a strand of hair from her face. Another flash and we’re watching our daughter running playing. I turn to my wife with affection and see she’s pregnant with our second daughter. I lean forward and kiss her neck, brushing aside the locket she wears. I take a deep breath, savouring her scent and the nostalgic peace it brings.

Another flash and suddenly I’m driving. I know this scene. I’ve relived it dozens of times before. We’re older now, lines mark Sarah’s face and she’s looking out the window unblinking. It’s dark and raining outside, and the droplets on the window look like tears on her reflection. We’d been fighting. Her father is interstate where the warfront has moved to and she’d wanted to journey there to get him out. I stare at her, waiting for her to look my way. Suddenly there’s a bright light that illuminates the city skyline of New York. Sarah gasps and through the rain I see the faint outline of an atomic bomb. I slam on the breaks when suddenly a violent force of the shockwave rips through the car. There’s a loud bang and the airbags go off, slamming me into my seat.

Dizzy with pain I cry out, pushing blindly against the airbag to break free, fighting desperately to find Sarah. When I finally clear the airbags from my path I find her, eyes glazed over, her head streaked with blood where it had hit the side column of the car.

A blinding light grows and I know this memory will vanish soon. In desperation I reach for her. She can’t be gone. I’d do anything for her. I’d have crossed a warzone for her in a heartbeat if it meant she could look him in the eyes one last time. She can’t be dead. She can’t

But I know it’s true. I’ve experienced this before. Once a month for the past twelve years, reliving her death over and over. The light flashes, growing stronger now. I grab her hand, trying to hold on but she doesn’t clasp back. The white light grows and I tighten my grip, not wanting to leave her, not wanting to forget her again.

Everything flashes and suddenly I find myself blinking. I’m back in the white room of the cleansing centre. In the reflection of the ceiling above I see tears running down my face and touch my cheeks to find them wet. I’d been crying though I can’t remember why. Already the visions from the cleansing process were beginning to fade like away like a forgotten dream. I sit up and wipe my eyes, embarrassed at having been crying. Shaking myself off I come to my senses, feeling now feeling refreshed as though having escaped from some nightmare, relieved to be awake and find myself safe. The doctor scans my wristband and it lets out a beep, and the red light stops blinking, leaving only the green LED square glowing, indicating that I’m clean.

“You’re all done” says the doctor with a smile and helps me out of the chair.

I take the elevator down to the ground floor and head towards the glass doors. I’ve been coming here for twelve years now, but my favourite part is always the feeling I get when I step outside into the sunshine. There are some protestors outside but I pay them no mind as I spot my eldest daughter standing over by the car. I take a deep breath and straighten my jacket, feeling a calm sense of peace that always followed a cleansing. I pat my pocket and pull out a slender necklace with a heart shaped locket attached. I take a quick glance at my good luck charm and smile before putting it away again. I head over towards the car, looking up at one of the Monopolis billboards and repeat it to myself with a smile.

“The Happiest City on Earth!”