She looked down at her phone and blinked, in bewilderment, stunned that the address her college friend had given her had directed her to a suburb. Hesitantly, she switched on her left blinker and turned into what appeared to be the setting of the film Pleasantville, yet, she couldn’t ignore the fact that she felt less than pleasant about being there. Out of the corner of her eye, she looked at her black purse, sitting in the passenger seat of her car, and she tried to remember how many Xanax pills she had left in her prescription bottle. Carefully, she drove through the suburb, noting that each house she passed was larger than the next. Some were brick, with two car garages, while others were white, complete with columns on the front porch. Of course, she knew that the lives lived in these homes were filled with just as much disarray as everyone else’s, and suddenly, her curiosity peaked, and she felt far less uncomfortable. She knew that behind the perfectly manicured lawns and the expensive curtains, carefully drawn to conceal the lives of those lived, behind them, were human beings, each with their own individual challenges and struggles. As she turned into the driveway of her friend’s home and heard her phone announce “You have arrived,” she looked at the large house in front of her and wondered what war her college friend was quietly battling, behind the closed doors of her home in Pleasantville, USA. In the front lawn of the home that her phone had directed her to, her college friend was standing, talking to what appeared to be her next door neighbor. Her college friend was still beautiful, of course, with her long, almost waist length black hair pulled into an interesting side ponytail. She was wearing a black, lightweight windbreaker that was unzipped, revealing a black sports bra underneath, and her flat stomach, along with a pair of black leggings, and black running shoes. Of course, her figure was still svelte and as perfectly proportioned as it had been in college. That wasn’t unexpected though. She didn’t have children, and she always made physical exercise, along with her appearance, a priority. What was more surprising was the fact that she seemed so comfortable with her neighbor, a woman sporting short, platinum blonde hair, neon pink fingernails, and wearing what appeared to be a pink and green Lilly Pulitzer patterned dress. Feeling slightly awkward and still uncertain as to why, exactly, her college friend had contacted her, after almost a decade of them not having a relationship, she stepped out of her car and onto the plush, perfectly manicured lawn, as her friend began walking toward her. Unsure of how to start their conversation, after so many years had lapsed in their friendship, she decided to break the ice with the dry sense of humor they had always shared. “You’re friends with a woman that wears Lilly Pulitzer dresses?” She asked her college friend. “I am friendly with a woman that wears Lilly Pulitzer dresses. We are not friends.” Her college friend replied, giving her a cheeky grin, just as relieved that in the quick exchange of two sentences, their friendship had easily fallen back into place. “Besides, her Lilly Pulitzer dresses are one of the least annoying things about her,” she added. “What could be more annoying than her wardrobe?” She asked her college friend, half sarcastically, half seriously. “For starters, she’s blonde, and her name is Cammie,” she replied. “Of course, there’s also the fact that she only ever wears a pink shade of nail polish, which she somehow works into conversation with almost anyone she meets, as if committing to a certain OPI palette renders her a superior human being.” “If I recall correctly,” she replied, “You were an adamant fan of OPI Linkin Park After Dark, and I’m quite certain you’ve shared that personal preference with multiple people.” “Whose side are you on?” Her college friend asked, in a jovial tone. “Yours, obviously. I spent the last ten hours in my vehicle, driving here, to visit you.” She replied, nudging her annoyingly svelte friend in the side. “Now,” she asked her friend, “Are you going to tell me why you asked me to come here?” “We should have that conversation, inside, in private,” her college friend replied, and the two of them walked across the manicured lawn mowed in perfect, diagonal lines.

The classic suburbs Where people do no wrong where old folks retire And family’s bond But in every household There’s a secret to be told Some are very tiny And some are very cold But just stop to think Most murders happen in small towns Or at least the brutal ones Where you don’t hear a sound It’s the perfect place to kill Neighbors close, they’ll never tell Body’s easy to dispose Just throw it down the well So your perfect suburbs Aren’t perfect after all As they say don’t kiss and tell That will be your downfall

“Good morning, Majorie!” Duncan called from across the lawn to his neighbor, teeth gleaming in the morning sun, “Lovely day, isn’t it?” Majorie smiled at him as she brought the milk in from her doorstep. It was that forced smile. The smile she smiled every morning, at 8am, when Duncan would come out and blithely shout the same thing at her. Every morning. And it was driving her - ‘Ugh, no matter,’ Majorie thought to herself, shaking her head. ‘No point fussing over something you can’t change.’ But it took every ounce of will in her body not to run and rip his toothy, ‘good-morning’ head off. She walked into the kitchen and slammed the milk bottle on the counter, hand on her hip, lips pursed. “Heyyyy, easy there, tiger!” said Eddie from the dining room table as he read his paper. “We’re not gonna have any milk for breakfast at the rate you’re going!” He flashed her a toothy grin and winked.. “Funny.” she said, without a single trace of a smile. “Let me guess,” Eddie said, losing the act and returning to his usual self. “Desmond again?” “Duncan!” she snapped, as she put the kettle on the hob. “His name is Duncan! We’ve lived here for how many years now, and you can’t even remember your own neighbor’s name? He greets you every time you set foot out of the house, for goodness’ sake!” Eddie smiled to himself and went back to reading the paper. “Argh, I’m just yanking your chain. Lighten up, honey-“ “I will not!” she shouted. Hot as tears threatened to spill down Marjorie’s face. “How are you ok with this?” she said, palms on the counter, elbows bent. “This... train-wreck of a life we’ve found ourselves trapped in?” Eddie looked up at her but said nothing. The sound of the clock ticking above the kitchen sink suddenly seemed so loud in the otherwise quiet room. “Look, love,” Eddie said with a sigh as he put his newspaper on the table. “We’ve been over this. We’ve tried - we’ve tried everything, haven’t we?” He paused as she nodded, a tear trickling down her face. They’d tried everything they could think of for three whole years now. But no matter how far they ran, the people were all the same. It was as though they’d stepped into a fifties sitcom. Everyone bright smiles, one-liners, and perfectly prepped clothes. But sitcoms, you can switch off. You can get up from the sofa and go about your life again. Not so, here. Not so, for the past thirty-seven long, arduous months. “So why do we both remember them differently?” she said in a low tone - a statement, not a question. “Duncan - was different. Pete and Sarah were - different. The whole world was - different!” Silence again. The only sound, Majorie’s breathless sobs that she fought so far to restrain. “Why did it not take us too?” she whispered finally. And as the kettle began to whistle and the sound of the water inside it started to emit busy, bubbling noises, the two of them stared at each other. They stared at each other, knowing they had no answers. And not realizing that they were two of only five humans left in the world.

In a spring breeze, a wooden sign swung idly on one of its chains. It was too weathered and potshot to read with only a capital W and the remains of a lowercase F to be seen. Scrappy hyacinths and daffodils encircled the signpost. I stopped for a moment to smell their sweetness. I wished Mickey was here. Like Mom was, she is into flowers and plants. Mickey would be blowing my ears up about bulbs and tubers, deciduous versus evergreen. Bending down I lifted the head of a flower whose name I used to know. My flack jacket weighs heavy against my back and sweat trickles down my spine. I return to walking. I scanned left and right. There are rows of identical townhouses and rows of low slung apartments with balconies. Flowering trees and shrubs framed curved parking lots and winding narrow roads. I could tell this was a fancy neighborhood once. There were pool parties at the club house and once little kids rode their bikes up and down these lanes. Old people walked plump dogs. And on summer nights families barbecued on porches and asked each other how their days were. I can feel eyes on me. I’m decorated with the caution yellow tape wards of the North Phillies but I know for some crazies that is less of a protection and more of a target. My head is high and I walk with purpose. Hands swinging loose at my side I start to whistle. Fearlessness is the ultimate defense. The people who live here take care of the development. I can see a soccer net that has been repaired and I suspect there may be families here still. I remember going to school and the playground during recess. Everything went to shit by the time Mickey was old enough for school. Mom homeschooled us and Phil taught us to trust no one. I whistled by way out of the complex. I can feel the tension my arrival made leach into the air. I survey quickly and while pretending to tie up my boots I dig up a bulb secreting it in my cargo pants pocket. The violet blooms will be long dead by the time I make it home but maybe the bulb will survive. I sing “Zippitty Do Dah as I rounded the corner praying to make Candyland by night fall.

Bright colored flowers line the edges of the perfectly manicured lawns. Each house a slightly altered version of the next, all coordinating in a pleasing, but bland way. “Great neighborhood to raise a family!” the realtor ads boast, and desperate young couples flock to open houses trying to outbid the other. Visions of children riding bikes and playing ball, block parties and BBQ’s filling their minds as they hand in their inflated offers. Moving day comes and they carry in box after box of their belongings up through the wrap around porch, excitement mingling with exhaustion. Finding the perfect spot for that table, children claiming their rooms. Eating take out on paper plates standing around the kitchen island, because the moving van with the furniture won’t get there until the next day. “First day in our new home, the first day of the rest of our lives.” they think, as they spend the night settling in to their new reality. Saturday morning and the hum of lawns being mowed floats in through the open windows. Dogs bark as they are walked down the street, owners giving each other a noncommittal wave. This idyllic life, bought at such a high price. Struggles and stress, overtime and debt. The bills a mountain of clutter on the gleaming granite counter. Drowning for that white picket fence. Living the American Dream.

A few miles outside of neon cities bustling sin metropolis sat the Dream Hills. The largest of gated communities around the city. Home to only the most wealthy families of the big city. Remidora or Remi as all her friends called her. Was just that, second child of the Flinn family. Known for making the best clones in the city, father Markus Flinn is one of Neon cities founders. A few hundred years before. Humanity has long since evolved from death, only poor people die. We’ll die and can’t build a new clone of themselves. The founding families of the Dream Hills community are anything but poor. All of them set for many generations to come. “Come on Jack!” Remi shouted over the iron ball game being played in their families theater room. “Remi go back to the pool area. Dray and I just started watching this” His smug face tempting her to try for the remote again. “Bullshit! I personally know that Dray was down by the pool hitting on Summer’s little sister again” Remi struck a pose, knowing dam well her brother was gonna rush to find Dray. “God why must he want Skylar. Out of all your dam friends “ Jack tossed his younger sister the remote and she just giggled watching him flee the room. Of course she’d left out one juicy detail. But he’d find out soon enough. Remi stalked down the hallways of the mansions basement. Knowing full well his footsteps were starting to get further away. But she was close enough behind him to watch once they made it into the pool room. Alright, it was a set up for sure. Summer was tired of hearing and watching her sister make out with Dray. So as all the girls returned to Remi’s room they left the love birds down in the pool. “Dray what the fuck dude!” Jack shouted as Remi got to the double doors to the pool area. So maybe the girls hadn’t quite understood what Summers sixteen year old sister was capable of. Cuz as Remi pushed open the door she was treated to a horrified looking Skylar, covering her lady parts while she was still in twined with Dray. In the pools deep end. “Are you seriously fucking Summers little sister. Bro. Her fucking dad is gonna kill you…” Jack shook his head kneeling down by the pool. “Shush. Nobody else knows” Dray pushed the girl back down onto his member, eliciting a cute moan. As she fell back against his muscular upper body. “So not cool.” Jack gave his best friend the middle finger. “If anyone finds out about this, you know your dead right. Your not one of the high families. If your mother wasn’t my babysitter we wouldn’t even know you” “Relax bro. This isn’t the first time” He sucked on Skylars ear as if Jack wasn’t even in the room. “That doesn’t make it any better. Please tell me you at least wrapped it. However many times?” “Not once. She loves when I fill her little box with my baby batter” “God I’m gonna puke” Remi blurted out. “Fuck!” Skylar shouted as he pulled her down harder. “Stop fucking her damit!” Jack splashed water at them both. “Get the fuck out the pool too” “Y’all nasty” Remi giggled sitting down on one of the large folding lounge chairs. “At least I don’t fuck girls!” Skylar spat back, fixing her suit as she pulled herself up on the edge of the pool. “Wait Remi’s a lezi?” Dray said, hoping out before tucking his dick away in his trunks. “Really dude. Couldn’t put it away before you hoped out” Jack tossed a towel at both of them. “Least I don’t do nonames” Remi shot back. “Yeah just your besties “ Skylar wrapped herself up and tossed her long blonde hair into a bun. “Enough. How long Dray? How many times have you soiled her?” “At least two or three times a day since last summer….” He rubbed the back of his neck, while Skylar looked at him with affection. “How the he’ll didn’t we notice this?” “To be fair…. Normally it’s after everyone else is sleeping. But we figured, who would come down here” Dray wrapped the towel around himself sitting a few chairs away from Remi. Sky quickly closed the gap and sat on his lap. “Last year she was fifteen years old stupid. Your seventeen then.” Jack was nearly foaming at the mouth. “So it’s definitely consensual “ Sky added in, giving Dray a long drawn out kiss on the lips. “You don’t fucking get it moron. Her father is the most powerful person in all of Neon City. And you were fucking his fifteen year old daughter?” “Is that a trick question. You just caught us??” Dray looked at him cluelessly. “We’ll he’s the only boy I’ve been with ever” Sky added in like anyone cared. “Dude. I have no idea how to save you right now.” Jack shook his head. “Maybe dad will have some idea” “Your gonna narc on us bro. Not cool” Dray held Sky tightly to himself. “They will never let her back over here. We’ll both be sent away probably to save the families name” “You messed with the Mayor’s youngest daughter!!” Jack punched the wall, hard enough that blood coated his knuckles. “I’m not messing with her. I’m in love with her” “Even worse…. What’s the plan? Run away once she gets outta school…..” “Yeah” Skylar hoped in. “You could go off planet and your father would still find you both” Remi added in, pulling out her sleek glass phone. “Sorry girls are getting worried “ “Tell them nothing Remi. I swear or I’ll out you to the whole school.” Sky had tears starting to run down her face. “I swear I’m sorry. We sent Jack down as a joke. I didn’t expect to find him balls deep in you” Remi laughed. “But for real. Mad sorry” Jack crossed the room and pulled Sky out of Dray’s arms. Daring his best friend to say anything. “You girls get back up to the sleep over. I’ll deal with dummy” A few weeks had gone by. Jack didn’t leave Dray out of his sight for a second. Until after school on the second week Remi called him. “Hey bro” Remi sounded a bit freaked, trying to keep her cool. “So yeah. That thing. It got worse” Jack could vaguely hear a girl puking in the background. It sounded like water hitting the floor and walls. “So hurry home” Remi dropped the call and Jack looked over at Dray who was standing against his car. Before it even made sense, Jack rushed him. Decking his best friend clear across the right side of his jaw. “You fucking idiot. Get in my car” Jack shouted, shaking his hand of the pain as Dray tried to swing back but was to slow. “What the hell!” Dray swung two more punches and Jack dodged them both. Grabbing his friend by his shirt and pulling his ear to his mouth. “You fucking got Sky pregnant. Get in the fucking car” It was half whisper half yell.

𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗥𝗢 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘! 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚗. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝙰𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝙸𝚘𝚠𝚊. 𝚆𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚢 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖. 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚜. 𝗔 𝗚𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗧 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗞𝗜𝗗𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗡 𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗, 𝚠𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚒𝚗. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝. 𝙴𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝚆𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚝. 𝙹𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗! 𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗦 𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎-𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚜, 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚎𝚗𝚍-𝚝𝚘-𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚢𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢, 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚡. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕-𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗘 𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙻𝚊𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙, 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙-𝚊𝚗𝚍-𝚐𝚘. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚜. 𝙰𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙-𝚊𝚗𝚍-𝚐𝚘, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚔! 𝗢𝗨𝗧𝗥𝗢 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝙰𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝙸𝚘𝚠𝚊, 𝚠𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝, 𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚞𝚜!

White House’s lined the streets, with big lawns roses and tulips lining the outside. Blue shutters on every window. Parents walking around with pink, blue, or white strollers. Hair tied up in a ponytail or combed back neatly. Children played chess, & read books. The babies never cried the children never argued. They wore pale pink or pale blue polos white pants or a white skirt, white closed sandals or white dress shoes. Pale skin, a face full of frekles, toffee blond hair that was pin strait, just like everyone in the town. Everyone smiled, no one cried no one was bullied. Everyone in this town was happy. On what seemed to be a regular morning Alice Green-Smith woke up. Brushed her teeth her hair & got dressed. She walked down the stairs in her white sandals hair in two braids. Her twin brother soon joined her, sliding down the banister. See Joshua Green-Smith was an unusual child, he had trouble reading got diastracted easily & asked questions. Curiosity didn’t exist in Seminder County. You did what you were told no questions asked. After breakfast the two made their way to school. “Bye Alice.” “By Joshua” nicknames like Josh didn’t exist here. You were given your name for a reason after all. The boys and girls went to different buildings. “Alice come here.” Alice’s friend Shauna said. Yelling was not allowed. “How are you.” “I’m great how about you Shauna.” “I’m good my older brother is taking his match test today. Match tests told you who you would be with forever. Wither you liked them or not you were stuck with them. The unmatchables aren’t able to be matched with anyone. No one knows what happens to them. Hutcherson Bailey or Hutch has just moved to Seminder County. He has blue eyes and dark brown hair. he has two younger brothers and 1 older brother. He will be different. On Hutch’s first day of school he outs on his uniform and ges into the classroom. Shiny white walls and. Each er at the front. “Ah you must be our new student come and introduce yourself. Hutch carefully walked to the front of the classroom scared to speak. He had just moved from another country, but he couldn’t seem to remember the name. “Hi I’m Hutch or Hutcherson,” at this the students looked at each other weirdly, a nickname unheard of. “I just moved here and I like to play football.” He looked around and the students were staring at him like he was a strange creature. Suddenly a boy’s hand shot up. “Yes Joshua.” The teacher sounded annoyed like she disapproved of his behavior. “I was just wondering what football is.” I stared at them in shock. Did they not have sports. “Well its a sport with a ball that you kick arou…” “That’s quite enough take your seats. I sat in a chair next to Josh and smiled. He was cute with 1 dimple. But he looked like every boy hear. Why was everyone the same? Weeks passed with Hutch in town and well many viewed him and his family as problems. Although Hutch was bow friends with Joshua. Alice disapproved of him, as did her parents. One day as Joshua turned to leave the house Hutch caught his arm. “I uh just wanted to,” before he could finish the sentence Joshua pressed his lips against Hutch’s, after a few moment he pulled away. “Sorry I have to go.”

I blinked my eyes open, my lips stretching into a smile. It was a new day. A new to be me. I hopped out of bed and pulled on the white skirt and pale yellow polo of my school uniform. I slid down the banister to the first floor with glee, gracefully gliding into a run. I found my mom making breakfast in the kitchen, her gold-spun blond hair up in a messy bun. “Good morning, Emma!” My mom said cheerfully. “Good morning, Mom!” I replied. My mom handed me a plate with two slices of avocado toast and a fruit salad. Then she gave me a glass filled to the brim with a kale smoothie. “Thanks Mom!” I said. I finished my breakfast and grabbed my backpack. “Goodbye, Mom! I love you!” I kissed her cheek and ran out the front door. My two best friends, Olivia and James, came out of their house at exactly the same time I did, 8:03. Olivia’s honey colored hair was braided neatly like mine, and James’s honey blond hair was cropped and fresh. Olivia was wearing the same uniform I was, but James was wearing white slacks and a yellow polo. We started walking to school, lost in the pack of kids walking to Seneca Prep. Everyone at Seneca Prep walked to school, and everyone in my neighborhood went to Seneca Prep. When we got to school, we put our stuff in our lockers and headed off to class. “Hello, students,” Mrs. Smith said once we all found our seats. She was wearing the same outfit my mom wore, the same outfit every woman in Seneca wore. A pale pink skirt that went down to her knees and a white blouse. Her hair golden hair was also up in a messy bun. Mrs. Smith’s voice was sugary and sweet, but also slightly monotone, kind of like a robot. “Hello Mrs. Smith,” The class, including me, chorused in the same voice. “Today we will be talking about the Boston Tea Party. Our governors met with the king of England and they discussed America becoming its own country. The king agreed, and the 3 men shared a cup of tea.” After class, I met up with Olivia and James and we headed over to lunch, which was salad, like everyday. I had a couple more classes after that, and then walked home. “How was your day huh-uh-uh-oney?” My mom’s head twitched to the right side as she stumbled over the world “honey”. “Mom? Are you alright?” I asked. My mom nodded. “Ab-ab-ab-solutely!” She stammered again. My brow creased in concern. “I’m going to go find some medicine,” I said worriedly. My feet made soft padding noises when the hit the carpeted stairs down the the basement. I flicked on the light, but the bulb had burned out. Suddenly a hand grabbed my ankle and clawed it’s way up my body. I screamed, but my mom didn’t come to help. The man’s face became illuminated by the light streaming from the first floor. He didn’t look like anyone in Seneca. He had messy dark brown hair, green eyes, and a stubbly beard. “Can you help me?” He whimpered.

Trimmed bushes. Perfectly manicured lawns. Clean painted siding. Suburban utopia. A place I call my home. My home: it is my home. What is a home? A pretty little house? A family unit? Friends and nice neighbors? Perhaps. Perhaps it can be. But not mine. My home is where I learned to fly. It’s the place I flew from— A nest left behind. This suburban utopia Was a cage whose bars I broke.