The Perfect World (The Perfect World Series Book 1) (18 page)

Cyrus woke up the next morning to find himself under the covers. He sat up quickly and looked at his room in fear. At first, he couldn’t remember what had startled him so, but then he remembered what had happened to Scott last night. How he had been shouting for his friend and the guards had come to his room. How they had placed a cloth over his face and he had fallen asleep.

He leaped from his bed and ran to the door. He tugged on the handle, trying desperately to get it open. He pulled and pulled for what seemed like hours, but it was no use. Not giving up yet, he moved over to the white wall and started pounding on it with all his might.

“Scott!” he shouted, hoping his friend was still there. “Scott, can you hear me? Scott!”

He banged a few more times against the wall, before finally giving into his rage and fear. He started punching the wall as hard as he could with both fists. Tears stung his eyes at the pain, but he didn’t care. He felt so helpless, so sad and so frightened that it was all he could do to keep himself from breaking down.

Finally, his rage subsided, and he grew tired. He rested his head against the wall and let his arms fall limp against his sides. He felt wetness on his knuckles that he realized was blood. He stared for a moment at the red rivulets flowing down his hands. He watched as they dripped to the floor and found himself not caring.

His vision changed to one of Scott, his hands bloody after punching the bathroom wall. Cyrus now understood why he had done it. The pain brought him relief. 

He went listlessly to the side of his bed and sat down, his hands between his knees. A red trail marked the passage to his bed and drops of blood continued to drip from his knuckles. He stared out the window at the quarantine force field that was visible from his window, only this time it gave him no comfort. He stared at without thinking, only feeling his pain.

He didn’t hear the lock open, and he didn’t notice that Ms. Mary had come in until she was right in front of him.

“Cyrus Wright, what have you done?” she demanded, picking up one of his hands. His green eyes studied the red-stained hands, watching the blood flow and dry on them. “Look at this mess.” She gestured to the floor of his room. “How did you do this?”

He barely heard her. He just sat, staring unseeing out the window in front of him. He heard her berate him as she used some cloth to clean his hands. She left the room for a moment and returned to his room to put some white liquid on the cuts. The pain made him hiss a little bit, but otherwise he sat silently on his bed.

Ms. Mary let out an exasperated sigh as she gathered up her things. “Now, I have wasted my time taking care of you when I should be spending time with the other students. Don’t you know how selfish it is? Taking up my time to clean up your mess?”

Part of him registered the words, and something inside him told him he should be angry, yet he didn’t have the energy to summon the emotion. He didn’t have the energy to argue with her. Her attitude towards him was just part of the way things were. He couldn’t do anything about it, so why bother trying?

Ms. Mary stopped talking when she realized Cyrus wasn’t really listening. After hastily wiping blood from the wall and floor, she grabbed her garbage bag and left in a huff, slamming the door as she made her exit. Cyrus barely noticed her absence and felt little other than the sting of his knuckles.

The door to his room clicked open, and he got up to use the bathroom. A little energy came to him when he went to the bathroom, hoping that maybe it had all been a bad dream. Maybe Scott wasn’t really gone, and he would be waiting for him this morning. He walked into the bathroom and looked around him, but Scott wasn’t there. His heart sinking again, he went back into the hallway and stopped by Scott’s room. He pulled on the handle, trying to open the door. The lock held firm, no matter how much he pulled or struggled with it. Feeling despair wash over him again, he went back to his room.

He sat back down on his bed for a long time. His lock clicked open again, and he realized it was time for school. He got up without really thinking about it and went to the line. He looked up briefly to see if Scott was there, but he was not. The little bit of hope he had kept inside him faded away.

Ms. Mary took them all to school in silence as she always did. They walked into their first class, and Cyrus sat down at his desk heavily. He looked at the seat next to him, seeing that it was empty and cold. When everyone was seated, the door shut after them.

Cyrus looked up at this, realizing that none of their teachers were in the room with them. It was just Ms. Mary, and she marched to the front of the classroom, gracing all of them with a stern expression.

“I need to inform you all that Mr. Strago is no longer with us,” Ms. Mary said in a deadpan tone. Cyrus felt something inside him break apart at her words. “His sickness became too severe, and it was deemed dangerous for him to be around other students. He has been taken to a Quarantine Dome where he can be isolated permanently from others. This is what is best for everyone.”

The silence inside the classroom was uncomfortable as the other students looked at each other in fear and confusion. Cyrus briefly saw that Melody looked over at him with concern in her blue eyes. He shifted his gaze away, her pity only making him feel worse than before.

“This will be the last discussion we have about Mr. Strago,” Ms. Mary’s voice was firm. “If you do not wish to become as sick as he did, then you must follow all the rules that your teachers and I have outlined for you. That is what is best for all of you.”

Best for all of us? What about me? I don’t think Scott was sick at all! The only reason he was taken away was because of these stupid rules! Cyrus raged in his head, balling his fists.

Ms. Mary looked at each person in the room with a calculating look before she continued, “That is all. Your classes will begin again as normal. I will see you again at the normal designated time.”

Their caretaker exited the room without saying anything else, leaving silence in her wake. Cyrus looked down at his desk, all of his anger suddenly fading as it hit him. Scott was never to be spoken of again, like he never existed at all. Scott, like Ms. Linda before him, was gone forever.

The rest of the day was a blur for Cyrus. He felt himself move from class to class, he heard his teachers’ talking, but he didn’t comprehend any of it. All of it was just noise to him, drowned out by the sounds of his own rage and sorrow.

When the day finally ended, he went back to his room and laid down on his bed. He laid on his side and wrapped his arms around his knees, bringing them close to his chest. He closed his eyes and remembered the day Ms. Linda had been quarantined. He remembered how terrible he had felt and how he had cried for her. He hadn’t thought it possible, but this felt worse to him somehow. Maybe because when Ms. Linda had gone there had been someone to commiserate with. Today, he had no one to share his pain and no one to understand him.

Tears started to leak from his eyes as the sun set behind the tall buildings. The fading light that turned to darkness reflected his own mood. He felt like something good had been forcibly torn out of him.

Cyrus also didn’t know why it kept happening to him. First, that small golden puppy had disappeared after it had become close to him. Then, Ms. Linda, who had indulged his quirks and ideas, was gone. Now, Scott, his confidante and friend, was gone from his life as well. What was he supposed to do now? Why was he left alone in this place when everything he had cared about was gone?

What if something’s wrong with me? Cyrus wondered as tears went down his face even faster. What if there’s something about me that makes people sick?

Cyrus wrapped his arms around himself. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop crying. He cried until exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he fell into a restless sleep.

A loud thump by his head startled him awake the next morning. His breakfast had arrived in his food slot, demanding to be eaten. Only Cyrus wasn’t the least bit hungry as he drew his blankets closer around himself. All he wanted was to go back to the peaceful oblivion of sleep and stay there.

Unfortunately, as soon as Cyrus’s lock clicked open, he realized there was no way for him to fulfill that wish. Getting up with a groan, he made his way to the bathroom. His eyes lingered on Scott’s closed door, remembering his friend’s screams vividly in his mind.

As he lined up for school that morning, Cyrus’s mind was still plagued with questions. He had questions about Scott, of course, but the most troubling to him were about himself. Was he responsible, as he had long feared, for the disappearance of others? It was a question he couldn’t answer on his own, and he had no one to ask.

That was why, even though he could feel Melody’s eyes on him from across the room, he refused to even look at her. Ms. Linda and Scott both had a lot of contact with him before they were quarantined. He wouldn’t let the same thing happen to Melody. He wouldn’t.

To make this task easier, Cyrus spent the week after Scott’s disappearance with his head down on his desk. None of his teachers made any move to stop him since he wasn’t disrupting the learning process. He slept through his lessons when he could, giving him some short respite from the ache in his heart.

Perhaps it would have been easier for him to heal if there hadn’t been so many reminders of Scott’s presence. Every time he walked passed Scott’s room, he remembered that the other boy was no longer there. Every time he walked inside the bathroom, he knew he would never find Scott waiting to talk to him again. Every day that he went to school, he sat by an empty desk that used to belong to his friend. There were reminders everywhere, but there wasn’t a single soul to talk to about it.

Cyrus sat on his bed and rubbed at his throat. He hadn’t used his voice much at all this past week. It wasn’t like he had anyone to speak with now, and he only used it during his lessons when he had to. He wondered briefly if you could lose your voice if you didn’t use it very often.

As he thought it over, his green eyes wandered over to the glowing Quarantine Dome. He had been staring at it quite often these past few days. Just as he had with Ms. Linda, Cyrus imagined that Scott was behind the colorful, glowing walls. He imagined him happy, no longer plagued by questions with no answers. The image of Scott living his life in a better place far away from Cyrus was bittersweet.

I do want him to be happy, even if I never get to see him again. Even if I’m stuck here alone …

Cyrus ran his fingers through his messy brown hair in dismay. He had gotten used to having someone he could talk to, even though the rules had forbidden him from doing so. He was torn between being worried that he would get somebody sick through interacting with them and being afraid of being so isolated.

An unexpected whoosh made him jump a little. Looking down on the floor, he saw a small scrap of white paper. Cyrus picked up the short note, knowing exactly who it would be from before he opened it.

Cyrus,

I’m really sorry about Scott. I’m still here though. Please don’t forget about me.

Melody

The short message brought a real smile to his face for the first time since Scott’s disappearance. His mouth was actually uncomfortable from the unfamiliar motion. He held the note tightly in his hand before ripping another small piece of paper from his notebook and scribbling a small reply to give to the red-haired girl.

Melody,

Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten about you. Thank you for your message.

Cyrus

The young man felt like he should say more, but he didn’t exactly know what to write. He didn’t know how to express how he felt at the moment, but he figured what he had written was enough. As soon as the lock clicked he got up with the note in his hand. Then, as soon as his hand was on his door knob, he paused.

Was it right for him to give her this note? What if he made her sick? Part of his mind, the part filled with fear, presented these questions to him. Yet, in spite of his fears, there was something stronger winning out. Cyrus feared making people sick, but he had no proof that he actually did. He did know, from spending all this time without Scott, that he couldn’t stand being alone.

I didn’t force her to write the note, he reasoned as he slid his reply under her door. And I … I really want to talk to her. I always want to talk to her, he thought, being honest with himself.

He returned to his room, letting out the smallest sigh of relief. Scott was gone and things wouldn’t be the same without him, but at least he still had one person left who understood him.

Though initially, Cyrus felt that the aching in his heart would never go away, he was relieved to find that it was dulling as the weeks passed. Much like with what happened to Ms. Linda, Cyrus kept the memories of Scott close to him while hoping that wherever Scott was now, he was happy.

The hot weeks of summertime turned into the cooler days of fall. Cyrus grew taller and ganglier, but little else changed about him or his life. School was still tedious and boring. His only relief from it came in the form of Melody, who still left him notes on occasion and gestured at him from across the room. 

Another day of school passed, and Cyrus was back in his room, still feeling bored out of his mind. Cyrus was grateful for his limited interactions with Melody, but even so he wished there was a way to talk to her in person. He wondered briefly if she felt the same way about him.

The door clicked open again, and Cyrus got up to use the bathroom. He quickly snatched a small note he had written out to slip under Melody’s door. Walking quickly, he slipped the note surreptitiously under her door before continuing his walk around to the bathroom. He was grinning to himself about the move, when the sight of something completely unexpected stopped him short. Standing right in front of the bathroom sinks was Melody. She was grinning sneakily at the shocked expression on Cyrus’s face.

“Not expecting to see me, were you?” she teased as he managed to close his slack jaw.

“Melody!” he finally managed to say after the initial shock had worn off. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” she said with a shrug. “I knew that you and Scott must have talked somehow, and eventually I figured out that this was probably the way you did it. I decided to test my theory today, and it looks like I was right.”

“But your room’s pretty far from mine, right?” She nodded. “How did you stay in here without anyone else seeing you?”

She grinned mischievously and revealed a piece of paper she had hidden behind her back. “With this.”

Cyrus saw that the paper said, “Out of Order,” and he got the idea.

“So, you put that up on one of the stall doors …”

“And I waited quietly until it was your turn to come in. Nobody knows that I’m here.”

“Clever,” he told her with a smile.             

“I thought so,” Melody said happily. “Were you the one who started this visiting thing with Scott?”

“Well, no,” Cyrus admitted. “Scott was the one who started doing it back when we were kids. He would wait for me inside, since he lived right next me, and we would talk about how things are. Until, well, you know.” He trailed off.

“Yeah,” she said awkwardly, looking away briefly before turning her gaze back on him. “I’m sorry about Scott. I wish I could have talked with the two of you together. It seems like we would have understood each other.”

“That’s why Scott started talking to me. He knew that I didn’t like the way things were here anymore than he did. He wanted to talk to someone about it, and so did I. This place was starting to make him crazy, I think.”

“I know the feeling,” Melody admitted with a shake of her head. “I never understood the ideas behind being sick or having a destiny or any of the other things they told us. They never felt right to me, you know? But after a while, I felt like I was the only one who really felt that way. Then, I saw the way that you and Scott acted, and I thought you two might understand, but I still couldn’t talk to you. It made me so angry.” She laughed a little before continuing. “I was ready to pull my hair out before you guys started sending me those notes. I could never thank you enough, really.”

“I didn’t do much,” Cyrus said, feeling his face go a little red. He willed the strange feeling away so that he could regain his composure. “Scott was the one with the dictionary. He would lend it to me, and I just scribbled some words down for you. It was nothing, really.”

“No, it was really something,” Melody corrected him. “You have no idea how much better I felt just knowing there was some proof that I wasn’t crazy for how I felt. Even if it doesn’t all make sense now, well, it’s certainly better than nothing.”

Cyrus didn’t know exactly how to respond to her words. He found himself increasingly being tongue-tied when he tried to say something to her. He didn’t know why it was happening, and it was beginning to annoy him.

“You’re welcome. I’m happy to do it,” he replied simply.

Melody smiled warmly at him, then it faded as she thought of something. “The dictionary’s gone, isn’t it?”

“Hm?”

“Scott was the one who had it, right? If he’s gone, then it’s gone too, right?”

He realized immediately that she was right. He hadn’t thought at all about the dictionary since Scott’s disappearance. There was no telling what had actually happened to the book, but Cyrus guessed that it was lost to them forever.

“I guess it is,” Cyrus muttered, scratching his head. “To be honest, I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“I understand,” the red-haired girl reassured him quickly. “How did Scott get that book anyway?”

“Oh, well, it came from Ms. Linda, actually. Before she was taken away and quarantined,” he added bitterly.

“I miss Ms. Linda,” Melody told him wistfully. “She wasn’t the nicest person, I admit, but she seemed more like us, you know?”

“Yeah, she did,” Cyrus agreed emphatically. “I miss her too. Especially now that we have Ms. Mary as our caretaker.”

Melody rolled her eyes. “Wonderful, isn’t she? What with the way she makes sure you know all the ways you’ve inconvenienced her.”

Cyrus grinned. “I thought I was the only one she did that to.”

“Nope. She does that to me all the time.”

“Maybe that’s just her personality.”

“She needs a new personality.”

The deadpan tone of Melody’s voice had him laughing. It felt good to laugh. He hadn’t done so in a while.

“It’s good to see you smile again,” Melody told him quietly. “I really have been worried about you ever since Scott got sick.”

“It was pretty bad at first. For a while there, I didn’t know if I’d ever be happy again.” Cyrus saw how concerned she looked and added, “But it’s getting better now. Don’t worry,” he stopped abruptly, feeling like he should say more to her, but not knowing exactly what to say. “Thanks, Melody,” he said at last.

Now, it was Melody who looked a bit red in the face. She turned away as if she didn’t know what to say. Finally, she turned back and said, “I’d like to keep seeing you if that’s all right.”

“It’s perfectly fine,” Cyrus said very quickly, perhaps too quickly. He didn’t know why he felt so anxious at the thought of seeing her. “Believe me, I’m happy to finally get to talk to you. Come whenever you want to talk, okay?”

“Okay,” she said to him with a relieved grin. “I’ll be sure to come again. Later, Cyrus!”

“Later,” Cyrus told her as she went back to her room. He watched her wavy red hair move back and forth as she disappeared from sight. Privately, he hoped it wouldn’t be too much longer before he’d see her again.

Unlike many of his previous wishes, this one was granted. Melody began to see him almost as regularly as Scott had, maybe even a little bit more. Cyrus looked forward to every one of her visits. She always had a lot to say regarding the material they were given during class. In particular, she enjoyed throwing out ideas about the stories they were given during English class.

Since today’s lesson involved a story, Cyrus was expecting to see Melody in the afternoon after school was finished. So when it was his turn to use the bathroom, and he arrived to find nobody there, he was puzzled. Then, he felt a hand tap his shoulder and he jumped. Spinning around, he saw Melody standing behind him with the biggest grin on her face. She liked sneaking up on him.

“Hey, there. Did you enjoy our latest day at school?” she asked him warmly. 

“About as much as I enjoy brushing my teeth,” Cyrus muttered as he leaned against the wall. “They both offer the same amount of stimulation.”

Melody nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, do you ever feel like we’d learn just as much if we stayed in our beds and never went to school?”

“Oh, not often. Just practically every moment of every hour of every day.”

She grinned at his words, making him feel very pleased with himself. Melody brushed some of her bright red hair behind her ears and asked, “So, what did you think of today’s story?”

“That it was exactly like every other story we’ve read, and the next one we’re given will probably be exactly like it.”

“It’s frustrating, isn’t it?” The redhead crossed her arms over her chest. “We get a new story with different characters and places, but it always ends up the same. The script is the same, word for word, in some places. And if any character tries to change the script …”

“They’re quarantined for the good of everyone,” Cyrus finished for her, having read that same story for what felt like the billionth time.

Melody let out a sigh of exasperation. “I guess they’re being realistic. That’s how life is every day here, right?” Cyrus nodded, and she looked away from him, her eyes far away as she sunk into her thoughts. “I just wish that there was some discussion about it. Instead of just taking the character away, they could try to talk to them about it. Maybe ask them how they feel and why.”

“You know they can’t do that. If characters were able to ask why, then we might start thinking it’s okay to start asking that question too.” Cyrus rolled his eyes. “Our teachers and caretaker can’t have that.”

“Then, what’s the point of giving us those stories at all?” Melody demanded hotly, her voice raising a little. Cyrus knew the heat of her words wasn’t directed at him, and she was simply venting aloud. “Stories are supposed to be made up, right? Why can’t we explore the possibilities and create whatever story we want?” Melody’s eyes lit up as ideas came to her. “There could be stories of people who got sick, but found a way to get better. Or what about a story about who were born with abilities no one else had? Or there could be a story about a couple of kids leaving their rooms and exploring the outside world.”

Cyrus just listened to her ideas with a bit of awe. Melody’s mind seemed to be full of worlds and dreams he couldn’t imagine. She always had ideas, no matter what the topic.   

As soon as she finished listing off some more ideas, her shoulders slumped and the light faded away from her eyes. “There’s so much the stories could be about, but it doesn’t matter. They’re only made to reflect our society, nothing more.”

Cyrus nodded, and there was silence between them as Cyrus nervously chewed his lip. He had wanted to discuss this particular matter with somebody else for a long time, but he was also afraid of what the response might be.

Gathering his courage, Cyrus looked up at Melody and said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Melody said the word slowly, clearly wondering why he was asking her permission.

“The Quarantine Dome, what do you think of it?”

“You mean, about what it looks like? Or what its purpose is? Or what goes on inside of it?”

“I mean, we’re told that when people get too sick they’re taken there so that they can be separated from us. Do you think that’s really true?”

Melody shrugged. “It could be. There’s no way for us to know though.”

“I know.” Cyrus bit his lip in frustration. “Do you think there’s anything more to it than that?”

“Probably.” Melody tilted her head to the side in the way she always did when she was thinking. “They say they take the sick people there and, for once, I think they’re telling the truth. There has to be some reason those big glowing walls exist, right?”

Cyrus was quiet for a moment, then he asked, “Do you think they’re happy?”

“Who?”

“The people inside,” he elaborated, thinking of Scott and Ms. Linda, “do you think they’re happier there than they were here?”

“I’d say yes.” Cyrus blinked at the confidence behind the answer and Melody smiled reassuringly. “Well, think about it. Neither one of us is really happy here, right?” Cyrus nodded. “The people who get really sick are people like us. People who don’t like it here. Once they get taken away, they’re taken to live with other people like them. A whole group of people who understand how they feel. That’s got to be better than here, right?”

Cyrus was about to answer her, when Melody said, “Then again, hitting your head against a wall is better than some days in this place, so it’s not saying much.”             

Cyrus didn’t know what to say to that, so he just closed his mouth and shook his head.

“Why the question?” the red-haired girl asked him, studying him intently. “Are you thinking about Scott and Ms. Linda?”

“Yes,” Cyrus replied with some surprise. Was he that easy for her to read? “After they both got taken away, I would stare out at the Quarantine Dome. I can see it from the window in my room, and it helped me to think that maybe they were in a better place.” Cyrus blushed a little, realizing how strange that thought sounded out loud. “I wish there was a way I could ask them.”

Melody’s blue eyes flashed. “Maybe there is.”

Cyrus raised his eyebrows at the words. She sounded like she had an idea. “How?”