Looks

Time to write!

I'm aware that this will hail to the "Uglies" series by Scott Westerfield but I still want to write this and am convinced that if I continued I could twist it up. 

In a world where everyone is beautiful, no one really is. When everyone looks the same, physical attraction dies away. A world which once prized individuality is lost, and suddenly the idea of arranged marriages is no longer so archaic.

This is the world I live in. My name is Emma Crane. I have black hair that falls to the bottom of my shoulder blades, cut straight across, with bangs that swoop strongly to the left to hide the fluffy hairs that always want to frizz up on my left temple. My eyes are green and what you would call wide-set. I would not call them wide-set, nor would anyone else in Unisity, because all of our eyes are the same distance apart. My mother's eyes are also green. So are my sister's. Same as the eyes of all my female classmates. And their mothers and sisters. My nose, like everyone else's, is mostly straight but turns up just slightly at the end to appear "perky", and my cheeckbones are high and naturally pink.

I take no pride in my thin physique caused by my naturally high metabolism, and I find no joy in what would be considered "perfect" proportions, because here, "perfect" is simply status quo. In the entire city, there is a weight range of ten pounds and a height range of five inches.

When Unisity's scientists first began doing their genetic engineering experiments on willing participants, outsiders called them mad scientists or unethical cloners. But we are not clones. We are merely all created to look like one another, to form a society of perfect beauty.

I want to write about how the concept of "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" is no longer relevant, and about Emma's finace and about the plot but I'm too tired to write anymore now. I like the idea we have going here though. 

On File

Time to write!

Name: Reagan Willis
Age: 16 years, 2 months, 3 days
Height: 5' 5''
Weight: 119 lbs
GPA: 3.25

Underneath the information were small blue arrows, one pointing right, the other pointing left. By looking to one side or the other and blinking twice for confirmation the words would scroll in the direction indicated and display a new sheet of information.

Parents: Janice Copland, Bill Willis
Siblings: Gareth (18), Sears (14), Trillith (8)
Occupation: Waitress
Relationship Status: Single

It was like having your social network page on file for everyone to see. Literally everyone. There was no "friends" or even "friends of friends" option.

You also couldn't limit what was there. You couldn't "untag" yourself, so to speak, or choose to keep your middle name or birthday private. If you were in a relationship that you didn't want your mother to know about, that was just too bad. She knew. Within minutes of you walking in the door after holding hands for the first time. So what if it wasn't official? It was on file.

They floated a few inches above the head. You could choose not to see them, if you avoided looking directly at them. Rumors say that once, back when technology was so obsolete that you hold to actually hold or touch devices in order to use them, when you were first introduced to someone it was customary to look them in the eye. Now you only looked a person in the eye if you were already good friends and you knew their data sheets by heart, and even then it was more than normal to glance back up to see if anything had changed since the last time you'd talked.

Forgotten

Time to write!

The idea for "Forgotten" struck me a very long time ago, and I actually once wrote an intro for it which I really liked. However, I never continued it from there, so for today I decided to write a portion of the opening chapter. This, again, is a story that I actually have all planned and which I love the concept for, and its on these stories especially that feedback is appreciated. Loves and happy reading!!

Jarron and Railee were sitting by the fire, close enough that there was perhaps a foot of slack chain between them. They didn’t know their names were Jarron and Railee, they didn’t know either of their parents names, they didn’t know where they’d come from, but they knew just about everything else about each other. Railee knew that Jarron preferred cleaning to feeding, and Jarron knew that Railee would rather dance than march. Railee knew Jarron’s favorite meal was the stew and his least favorite was the bowl of vegetables. Jarron knew Railee was younger than him. They knew all this, and yet they’d never spoken a word to one another. They weren’t allowed to, for speaking was strictly prohibited by the Elders in the presence of any of the other Forgotten.  

The Elders had many rules for the Forgotten, and when a rule was broken you were taken away. There was only one thing worse, they’d been told, than being Forgotten, and that was being Lost.  Jarron had seen fourteen children become Lost. Railee had never witnessed someone become Lost, but it was her biggest fear.

Jarron finished eating and grimaced down into his empty wooden bowl, wishing there was somehow more food there. He knew there were many mouths to feed, but the Elevated always got to eat much more than the Forgotten, so he knew there was at least some extra food to spare.

Railee tapped the bench between them, trying to get his attention. Touching was another activity which the Elders forbade, at least between boys and girls. The older boys and girls were allowed to carry the younger ones on particularly long journeys, but that was about all the physical contact they were allowed. Railee drummed her fingers, looking intently at Jarron until he turned to acknowledge her. He raised his eyebrows at her, and she reached out for his bowl.

Jarron shook his head, confused. What did she want his empty bowl for? Railee began pantomiming setting the bowl down on the space between them, and Jarron warily obeyed, hoping none of the Elevated were watching, for they’d surely get in trouble. Once Jarron’s bowl had been set down, Railee picked it up and began using her spoon to transfer food from her bowl to his. He was much bigger than she was, and she didn’t like the look he gave his bowl each night when he discovered there was no more food in it. It was a mean look, like the way the Elevateds looked at her when she couldn’t keep up on the march.

Jarron accepted the extra food, taking the bowl back readily, and scarfing down the few extra bites, hoping no one else and witnessed the exchange. Chained to his other side, but sitting further away was Gami, a scrawny boy with extremely thick brown hair and angular elbows, but Gami was looking the other way, staring into the trees like they could tell him secrets.

Good, Jarron thought, getting the last bit of what seemed to be boiled leaf, unpalatable but sustenance, out of the bowl with his self carved spoon. Skinny didn’t notice. Jarron had names for everyone now. At first he hadn’t known how to think of the other Forgotten. No one ever called them anything, simply clipped a lead to the cuff branded around their wrist, detached them from the chain, and led them where they wanted them to go. Even the Elders, who spoke to the Forgotten, never specified one of them by a name. They’d simply say, “Forgotten” when addressing one, or all of them as a group.

Jarron hadn’t thought to name the other Forgotten until he’d realized that the words which didn’t make sense to him which he’d heard while listening to the Elders speak were names. Once he discovered they called each other certain made-up words in order to direct their comments to someone, Jarron knew he wanted a name. More than anything, he wanted a name, and he wanted someone to call him by his name, and to know that it meant they were talking to him.

After that day Jarron started naming everyone.  He didn’t know what the rules were for names though, or how the Elders came up with the strange words, so he just named people by their attributes.  He smiled in appreciation at Railee, Lashes, in his mind, and looked down the line at Red, Scars, Short, and Trip. It was weird seeing Short and Trip next to one another on the line. For months Bright Eyes had been chained between them, but then she’d spoken to an Elevated. Bright Eyes was Lost now. A yank of the chain broke Jarron from his revelry. It was time to clean up, and then they’d be on the march again. It was fall time. There was always the most marching in autumn, because that’s when they’d gather all the new Forgotten. Jarron stood and followed the rest of his line to the stream where they would wash first the shiny, heavy, white dishes of the Elders, then the shiny pewter dishes off the Elevated, and then, hopefully, have time to rinse their own wooden utensils before being let off the Chain and being taken to bed.

Railee hated climbing trees, but it was required of all the Forgotten to know how. She’d been climbing trees for years, but that didn’t mean she liked it. She especially hated it at night time. Hiding during the day when the Elders were worried the Forgotten would be hurt was one thing, but sleeping in the trees at night was another. She hoped that tonight she’d get a low branch, or maybe even be able to sleep on the ground. The Elevated leading her was tall, and pretty. She had a long blonde ponytail and green eyes and hadn’t pulled Railee when she’d clipped the lead to her guide bracelet. When they reached the tree were the girls Railee’s age would be sleeping for the night the Elevated began climbing the tree, with Railee following after her. Railee breathed a sigh of relief when the Elevated clipped the other side of her lead to a branch only about four feet off the ground. Railee waited, hugging the trunk of the tree, while the Elevated jumped down, then slid over to the branch she’d been assigned to sleep on for the night. She lay down and got as comfortable as possible, moving her chain to the side so it hung down off the branch. Sleeping on top of the chain was never comfortable. In a few minutes, another Elevated came by with a blanket, which she laid over Railee. This was the signal that meant it was time for her to fall asleep. There was a rule against staying up at night, unless you had patrol duty. Railee shut her eyes, and let her weary body relax as much as possible, her final thought before she fell asleep was that she hoped she would get the honor of being a Messenger for the next year’s Forgotten. How nice would it be, to see the city?