A good life

I woke up to an unfamiliar sound. What time was it? My cabin was closed. Leaving it was out of the question. My parents told me it was against the safety rules. The night was meant to rest, saving energy which would keep us healthy. Mom told me that was why the lights were off and the cabins closed. At night there was no light, no energy. Our brains can only rest in the dark. Too much light, screens, daylight were dangerous and drive people crazy. Craziness, anger, being upset, emotions make a mess out of people.

"We are lucky to live here among humans of the highest ranks. People here are different. We have to and can control ourselves. We are protected. Here we are free of stress, mental illnesses, self-harm. We are not bullied or hurt by others and we can not harm them. There's nothing to worry about. Everything we need is here. Food, clothes, shelter, vision. No one liked to be a feeble mind, my dear. It was a hard life for the feeble-minded. They always worried, suffered."

What a 'feeble-minded' was dad explained after one of the history classes. Lessons mom repeated because she didn't want me to forget about the past. About how tough life once was. Does the past matter? Should I care? I like my life. I love it the way it is. I am young and this is what I am used to. It's a good life. No one harms me, no one can harm me. Nothing can ever harm me because my parents love me and made them watch over me. My cabin is a safe place. If closed it's like a cocoon. It's never too cold or too warm. It reads me. I don't need to do anything it happens automatically. The warmth, the air just like the flushing and cleaning in our home. I can't imagine how the very first people lived without a home. Their food was not delivered. They died of hunger if they could not find any. All those diseases and stress. I think that was the reason those people never grew old. Dad said all of them died young. Not that they were children like me. They were also not as young as those who died as the Eugenics started ruling. But that, well that was necessary to the benefit of all. Besides, it was only was for a short time in history. Not even thirty years and it was somewhere in the past. It all was to do something good. They wanted to build a better, cleaner world. It's what dad told me and what's written on the screen. The screen we use for schooling. It says it's important to know where we come from, to know our history. I think the Eugenics succeed. We do not have a trash can like in the diary. There are no feeble minds. We do not need doctors or have to take pills. We are healthy and not in pain.

What the world looks like -what it looks like outside I mean- I can't tell but it is built back better. Outside it's nearly as silent as it is inside. I like it that way.

That sound that woke me up at night is an exception. I try to remember what it sounded like but can't figure it out. I will not ask my parents since I do not have words to describe it. There's no sound to compare with. All I know is it was loud. A loud sort of bang and that it sounded longer. I want to figure it out but it"s so hard to concentrate. I feel sleepy, sleepy, tired and nauseous.
There it is again that sizzling sound. As if something glides upon me. I try to open my eyes. I try, try harder while my hand presses the notebook against my chest till sound and feeling are gone. It was there. The sound was I didn't dream it.
The black book waits for me. I want to read and understand every word. All that sounds like magic to me. Is that the magic or mystery of a different world? It waits for me. I want to open it but not now, later. First I need to sleep. I have to sleep.

It glittered in the light. Was it a huge screen? If so it was the largest I ever saw. I heard laughter, voices. So many happy voices and... many people. I saw moms, dads and children even very old people. They didn't look like me. No one cared about the differences. What was it they were doing? What made them all come to that shining spot. They gathered around it even stepped on it. I saw them slide over it. It went fast and some looked as if they were dancing. What was it that made this possible? Why looked their feet so different from mine?  

"Mom? What is that beautiful screen? Is it glass? Which game are they playing?" I turned around to look at the mom who stood behind me but she wasn't there. It was just me watching all those people having fun. They played together in a white world on some kind of screen. They didn't look sick or scared. They were young and old with different shapes and colours. Their clothes were colourful and so were the voices. Watching this made me happy. It made my heart sing.

The alarm went off. Automatically my cabin was opened. Everything was like it always was. Warm and safe. I smelt the breeze and took a deep breath. This scent was one of my favourites. It made me feel happy. Quickly I put on the blue kaftan and hesitated to leave. The house was silent and I, I wanted to have a look at the notebook again. For the first time, I ignored the rules and went back to my cabin and closed it. Quickly I unwrapped the diary and opened it. Surprised I looked at the illustration underneath the words: Winter fun. The frozen pond is open to the public. Where are my skates?
It was a very detailed pencil drawing of tiny figures in a world I had never seen. A world that reminded me of my dream. Hastily I closed the book and wrapped it into the towel.
Dad knows, he gave it to me so he knows what those people do, was my first thought. Was life outside possible? Was it worth going out to meet all those different colourful people? I hesitated. I saw them in my mind. I saw a picture. It wasn't the real world but my fantasy. That's how dad would call it. Fantasizing, imagining about the past. A dangerous world to be.

At the table, my parents waited for me. The screen was switched on and welcomed me. We drank our water and I wondered why mine tasted so salty. Salty or was it bitterly? I hesitated to drink it. Dad and mom didn't note it they seemed to be fine with what was served. I tried not to gag, used the water to flush with what mom called a 'cracker' away. Tiny sips, tiny bits.

"Everything alright," dad asked while he kept watching the screen. The sound was off but he read what they said.
I felt mum's intense gaze but all she said was: It's time to work. Five minutes left.
I knew what that meant. It meant I was on my own for the next hours. No one would miss me except for the cams and perhaps those tiny drones following my parents.

"Use your time wisely," dad said. "You can study some books or go back to your cabin. We'll see you after ten." He winked and left with the words "see you later honey bee."

I heard them walk down the hall and close the door of their working station behind them. It was a place I never entered. A forbidden area just like that hallway, the front door and the cabinet next to it.
For as long as I remembered this house is my entire world. It is the place I love and want to be even with those forbidden areas which mom called privacy. Dad was right, he made the right decision and thanks to him the Eugenics keep us safe.
My eyes searched the screen. The screen that makes life so easy. It tells exactly what to do when. With it you are never alone, never bored or need to worry. Was there life behind this screen?

The sound of all those different voices rang in my mind. Happy voices, loud and soft, different tones. It all looked like a world filled with joy, fun and laughter. How could all that joy be bad and take place in a world with feeble-minded? People without security and an almighty source taking care of them? Was joy really bad for humans? Dad loved to joke around, he always smiled and made me laugh. My dad was happy and healthy. Perhaps he is happy for different reasons than the feeble-minded are? Are people different? What if not everyone wants or likes the same? Is that possible? They, the Eugenics they know and protect us but the good people only. The better humans must survive. They had to but what if we are not? What if there are others left?

In my room, I couldn't find any rest. The thoughts kept buzzing through my mind. Something changed. My parents wanted me to cook. All of a sudden they said things they never spoke about. I had to learn skills, things they did not even do. They had shown me the pantry and wanted me to... What was it they wanted from me? Why did dad give the notebook to me?

"I read it but not today. I know about the trash but not about the sweeper and nothing about tea or was it high tea?" I said to myself.  "So many questions but if mom and dad will answer each one of them?"
It was as if I heard a voice say: why not find out yourself?
Should I ask the screen? I never did before. All answers came from books, books and mom's lessons and the chats with dad. I wasn't sure if I could hear my parent's alarm at the end of their working day down there but I stepped into the pantry. This was the oldest place I could think of. It was older than my dad.  The answers could be hiding there, somewhere. It was time for an expedition on my own.

Back in the pantry, I had no idea where to start. Without mom and dad, everything looks different. The room wasn't one room since it had more than 4 corners. It was darker than expected but my eyes were good and I couldn't get lost. The closet was what I started with first. All I knew is that it was old and made out of wood. Real wood. Mom said it had been there as long as she remembered. Slowly I opened the left door, next to the right one. A strange smell came out. I touched the fabric in front of me and some others. It felt different from what my kaftan was made of. Were these clothes? I lifted one out to have a closer look at it in the light. I didn't know what to think of it. It felt thick, heavy and if I held it against the light I could look right through it. I hung it back to have a closer look at something that looked at legs. Legs made out of cloth. Legs without feet are attached with another piece of cloth. One by one I took the clothes out and had a closer look at all those strange things people used to wear. Most of it was thick and heavy. At the bottom were boxes stored. I opened them one by one after I read what was written on them. 'Gloves' looked like hands but without a hand. "Gloves are clothes for your hands," I murmured while trying to put one on. It wasn't that easy and felt weird. 'Socks' the next box said. The socks were a miracle to me. Gloves without fingers perhaps? I put them on which was easier than the gloves. I liked the colour and they were warm. The gloves and socks weren't bad at all. They looked nice and didn't smell. Carefully I placed the socks back into the box. It wasn't trash although we didn't use them. 'Scarves' the next box said. The scarves weren't special. Just pieces of cloth. I had no idea how to wear it. Some looked colourful others were grey, brown or dark blue. Some felt thin and slippery while others were thick and itchy. I quickly closed the box. The prickling didn't feel okay. I touched the little red bumps on the top of my hand which hadn't been there earlier. Two more boxes I opened. One said 'hairstyle' and the other 'treasures'. In the box with 'hairstyle' written on were the strangest items I ever saw. I had no idea how they were used. On the bottom was a pile of pictures showing people with the strangest hair I ever saw. It looked long, at some pictures curly and the colour was never the same. Each picture I studied carefully. The hair, faces and clothes. In an old picture, a woman wearing gloves and something around her neck smiled at me. Her face looked so familiar. It was mom! She looked like mom, my mom. I turned the photo around and read the text. It didn't make any sense to me. If this wasn't my mom who was this lady? That thing around her neck was that a scarf? I opened the box with scarves again and searched through it. There it was. The same pattern and colour. Instinctively I smelled at it. In a way, it smelled like mom. I placed the boxes back where I found them. The last one I would open another time. Instead of answers, I had more questions than before I started my expedition through the pantry. As I closed the doors of the wardrobe I smelled that terrible odour again. What caused it?

Day 1: What's cooking

Day 2: Stretching

Day 3: Monsters

Day 4: Guilty

Day 5: Promises

Day 6: Trash

Prompt: frozen pond

#nanowrimo # story #kittywu #freewrite