The Perfect World (The Perfect World Series Book 1) (21 page)

The next couple of years were a blur for Cyrus. The only things he really noticed were the changes in his appearance. His thick, unruly hair became thicker and slightly more orderly as the years went by. A few more freckles dotted his face, and his gangly form finally grew in proportion to the rest of his body. He had grown a lot in the last few years. He was over six feet tall now with his long arms and legs contrasting to his short torso.

He rubbed his green eyes as he woke up for the day, looking out his window at the Quarantine Dome. Today, it was glowing a light green and blue-green mix. It seemed quite peaceful to the tall young man as he forced himself to get dressed. A piece of toast and jam soon came down his shoot, and he ate it with little interest. Soon, Ms. Mary came in, frowning and glaring at him as she always did. Ever since he had grown so tall, she seemed to take a natural affront to his very being. He wished he could suggest that she stopped visiting him altogether as he found her visits entirely unpleasant, but he knew it would never happen. He just ignored her until she huffed her way out of his room.

School continued on in its boring, pointless fashion for Cyrus. The teachers droned on about the same thing for weeks. He was told that he and everyone else was special and had a destiny more times than he wanted to count. He felt like he could have learned just as much by staying in his room most days when he sat in that wretched building. The only positive thought that Cyrus had about the whole experience was that it was almost over. He was told they would all be graduating soon and would no longer be coming to this school. He didn’t know if what they would do afterwards would be any better, but he would be grateful that this chapter of his life was coming to an end.

The rest of the time Cyrus made sure to keep to himself, and he tried not to draw any attention from anyone else. This wasn’t difficult as the other students didn’t seem too interested in him. The one exception was the blond-haired kid named Will, the only student in the room who was taller than him. Occasionally, he thought he saw Will look over at him and try to get his attention. Cyrus ignored the other boy though, not wanting to get him in trouble.

Cyrus spent much of his teenage years staring at the ceiling and four walls of his room, thinking about the way things were. Sometimes the thinking made him feel a little crazy, and that was when he would try to sleep. Cyrus sometimes felt he spent too much time sleeping, but he also wondered what else he could do besides sleep. He never came up with anything worthwhile.

More years whittled away until the class turned eighteen and it was finally time for their graduation. On said day, the whole class was made to dress up in baggy blue robes and wear stupid hats. They were driven to the stadium where they went every January 1
st
, where they were given another boring lecture about the wonderful society they lived in and the destinies they would be given. He was told over and over about how he now knew as much as everyone else around the world. In his cynical mind, he thought that meant that everyone knew as little about what was going on as he did.

When the speech was finished, it was followed by a shorter announcement about how his learning would continue on his computer even after school was completed. Their regular classes would be replaced by long discussion and exercise classes until they received their respective destinies at the age of twenty-five. 

After graduation, they were driven back to their building where they gave their goofy outfits back to Ms. Mary. She informed them that their floor had received a two-week break in honor of their achievement. Cyrus assumed this was supposed to be some kind of present, but he secretly thought it was some kind of torture. It was bad enough being locked away in his small room without being able to leave for one day, but for a full two weeks he had nothing to combat his monotony. He felt like banging his head against the wall and screaming at the top of his lungs over the boredom. The only thing that stopped him was the idea that it wouldn’t help.

Finally, the tortuous two weeks had passed and he received his new routine. Their class would spend his mornings in discussion classes with a teacher known as Ms. Barkley. They would do physical activities during the afternoon hours. Computer classes would continue being held in the evenings.

Cyrus held on to the small sliver of hope that the discussion classes would be different from his other classes. The small sliver was immediately crushed as the class turned out to be as dull and repetitive as all the classes had been his whole life. Reflecting on the matter in his small, uncomfortable chair, he realized his life was like one of those awful English stories he had been forced to read. The names of his teachers changed, the locations changed, but everything else remained the same. Over and over and over again. The thought made Cyrus produce a hysterical couple of laughs during their latest discussion class. This led to an awkward silence, which drove Cyrus to shut his mouth quickly and focus his eyes on the floor until the lecture continued.

Cyrus’s physical activities class was held in the building adjacent to his own, and he attended the class five days a week. It was run by a man named Mr. Ando, who seemed a bit more relaxed than some of his other teachers. Maybe it was simply because he had little to do except make sure that all the students used the required equipment for the day or ran for the proper length of time.

For once in his life, there was one class he found more enjoyable than not, if only because he could work with machines and tune the rest of the world out. He especially enjoyed being able to run outside on the street, which they did on the warmer days of the year. True, they were accompanied by the armored guards every time they went for a run, but Cyrus tolerated their presence just for the chance to run outside in the fresh air.

Yet, this small bit of happiness did little to alleviate his overall boredom. The discussion classes bored him to tears. The only relief he had from his boredom was the unease he felt when he saw how many other students hung on Ms. Barkley’s every word. Every time she said the words ‘destiny’ or ‘special,’ some of his classmates’ eyes lit up with emphatic belief and devotion. The sight, along with their indulgent smiles, made him shiver.

Occasionally, Cyrus noticed that Will was looking over at him during these dull discussion classes. At one point, he met the blue eyes of the other boy, and they stared at each other for a moment. He saw in the dark blue depths an understanding similar to the one he had had with Scott. He also saw the sympathetic expression he had come to know from Melody. Cyrus quickly turned away and avoided his gaze at all costs. He couldn’t risk it.

The thrill of the physical activities classes had worn off some, but he still enjoyed them. He would come in with his exercise clothes on, and he would be assigned a certain station for a period of time. When a bell went off, he switched stations at Mr. Ando’s direction. Though Mr. Ando wasn’t the friendliest instructor, there was something that Cyrus kind of liked about him. Maybe it was just that he seemed very passionate about what he did. He rarely saw that in the teachers he had seen so far.

One of Cyrus’s favorite parts of the exercise class was the music he got to listen to. At each of the treadmill machines were a set of headphones. They were used for the amount of time that he was on the machines. True, all this music was amounted to different bleeps and bloops to some kind of rhythm. Yet, to Cyrus, just being able to listen to this music on his own and be on this machine, gave him a strange kind of peace.

It was in this manner that another year passed, and Cyrus turned nineteen. He kept up his routine of avoiding his classmates’ gazes and not bringing any attention to himself. Cyrus told himself that was what was best, but the boredom of his discussion and computer classes combined with no one to talk to about it was starting to get to him. The young man felt tightly wound, and the more he tried to suppress the feeling, the more it felt like it wanted to come loose.

Thus, it was during a hot August day that Cyrus found himself running on a treadmill as Mr. Ando instructed. The treadmill was set at the same pace as everyone else’s, and the music he listened to was also the same. There were no exceptions. He knew that, of course, but today his fingers twitched. He had so much energy he wanted to burn off.

Cyrus’s fingers hovered over the button to increase his speed. He hesitated for a split second, then, looking over at Mr. Ando to make sure his attention was occupied, he pressed the button down and watched as his speed increased.

Just this once. I want to run as fast as I can just this once.

Cyrus’s stride increased, and he couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face as he was finally able to stretch his legs. Pleased with himself, he started messing with the numbers on the music player attached to the treadmill. The sounds began to change, and he stopped when he found a pattern of music that he liked.

Running to his heart’s content for the first time in his life, he pretended he didn’t hear Mr. Ando’s voice instructing him to stop.

“Mr. Wright! You put the speed on the machine back down, you hear me?”

Cyrus pretended that he didn’t and just kept running. Mr. Ando’s face screwed up, and he pulled a remote control out of his short pocket. He pressed a button and the machine stopped running. The tall young man cried out in alarm as he lost his balance and toppled backwards on the machine. His head smacked hard on the edge of the treadmill as he groaned in pain.

“I’m sorry about that Mr. Wright, but you know better than to mess with the controls on the machine. You’re only supposed to go as fast as everyone else.”

Cyrus grit his teeth against the pain and looked up angrily at his teacher. Some of his anger faded as he noticed the sympathetic look on Mr. Ando’s face. Perhaps he had some understanding of why Cyrus had increased the speed on his machine.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to tell your caretaker about this.“ He sounded apologetic and Cyrus was wondering if he actually wanted to tell his caretaker anything. “It’s just the rules, you see. I gotta report stuff like this. Come on, you get up now, and I’ll call your caretaker to come get you.”

Cyrus got up with little enthusiasm, sighing as he waited by Mr. Ando to finish calling his unfriendly caretaker. Shortly after he had done so, Ms. Mary came to the room and curtly gestured for him to follow. She looked furious with him and made no move to hide it as he walked behind her in silence. Cyrus found that he could care less about her attitude. He was feeling pretty peeved himself and didn’t feel like he deserved to be rebuked for what he had done.

They walked into his building and back up to his corner room. Once he had entered the room, his caretaker rudely slammed the door behind them. Again, Cyrus didn’t care what she did. He sat down on the edge of his bed and sulked. He waited for her inevitable speech on selfishness, specialness, and all the other tripe she told him in these situations.

Cyrus waited in silence for a while, staring at the floor as Ms. Mary came to stand in front of him. She folded her hands in front of her firmly and glared down at him with a fiery stare.

“Cyrus Wright, you really can’t help yourself, can you?”

Cyrus didn’t reply, just continued staring at the ground.

“You’ve been told that everyone runs at that same speed. You’ve been told that you are not to adjust the speed in any way shape or form. Why do you insist on doing such things anyway?”

He didn’t answer her. He shrugged his shoulders and continued to stare at the ground.

“I’m afraid your actions are another sign of sickness.” Cyrus rolled his eyes at the word. Apparently, Ms. Mary saw what he had done for she roughly grabbed his hair and forced his head up.

“I see that this doesn’t matter to you. You always have been an intractable child. This is no laughing matter, Mr. Wright. This time your sickness may be serious.”

She saw his eyes widen a bit and she grinned. It was a small, malicious little grin. “If you cause any more trouble, then we will have to question whether you may continue being around others. If we find that your presence affects them negatively, then your sickness will be considered permanent. You will then be dealt with accordingly.”

Her voice had an icy satisfaction that was no surprise to him. He had felt that this side was always in her somewhere. It just hadn’t manifested itself before him until now. Still, her words caused fear to bubble up inside him, knowing whatever fate would await him if he were declared sick one more time would not be a pleasant one.

Ms. Mary finally released his hair and walked smugly to the door. “You will remain in your room for two days to deal with your current sickness. Remember my warning, Mr. Wright.”

She smirked at him and exited his room. Cyrus sat on his bed feeling shaken. Somehow, he knew that being declared permanently  sick would give him the same fate as Scott. He would be dragged out of his room in the middle of the night and never be seen again.

Morosely, he stared out at the walls of his room. All the white, pale walls seemed to be closing in on him. He felt like he was suffocating already, and he was going to be there for another two days. He lifted his head and his eyes were instantly caught up by the swirl of colors before him. The quarantine shield was glowing gold and silver today.

He walked over to the window and gazed longingly through it. He reached his hand up to place it against the window. He pressed it against the pane as if the action could break it and allow him to go outside. The impressive gold and silver swirls entranced him as he stared at their beauty from afar. He stared back at his white walls for a moment before turning back to the quarantine shield.