Gray, gray was the color of everything if you had a tone to bright or a tone to dark you would be charged with a fine. Scientists had found a connection between colors and happiness so we could no longer wear anything that could make you or other people happy. No one any more had smile wrinkles if you did you would probably be sent to jail. It was all because of the people, people didn’t like it when you were happy but they weren’t. Everyone had become intitled to being the same you couldn’t be different because that was unfair. I have come to hate the way we live now because of the new laws. Before law 256 we could still be happy but now it was all gray. Even the sky was no longer happy, living in one of the densest city of 1 billion inhabitants. The pollution was so bad that you couldn’t see the moon at night or even the sun it was just a bright haze. I guess the world would now just be gray.

Genevieve tugged on the scraps of cloth encasing her waist. Dingy brown in color but still, they slimmed her already thin waist. Shaping her into more of an hourglass figure, she carefully smooths the ripples that had formed in her skirt. She clears her throat as she surveys herself in the mirror before her.
Dark chocolate eyes fall over the image before her. Long twisted strands of hair in the beginnings of dreadlocks hung limp down either side of her face, framing it lovely. Tiny brown speckles litter her cheeks and nose as though sprayed by a paintbrush, a rosy tone laid down beneath them. Her youthful face, frozen in an expression of disinterest. Olive green tresses hang over her overthin frame, bundling and bunching in excess and cinched at her middle with a brown length of fabric. The layers just barely managing to conceal the parts of her that made her a woman, although those parts were slight. Barefoot feet peer out at the base of her threads, a bit dirty. Genevieve sighs as she stares at herself. Bored with her plainness. She turns from the mirror and snatches a wicker basket from the kitchen counter. She holds it with both hands before her, staring herself down again until her sigh repeats. She rolls her eyes slowly, pouts a bit, and then heads over to the laundry. She collects a medium scrap of cotton fabric and lines her basket expertly. She delicately folds over the edges and heads toward the door of her cottage home. She clutches a rope dangling from up on the ceiling and tugs, loosing the clasp on the doorlock. She pushes the door open to reveal the bright, shining, green day. Gen’s feet drag over the plush and fluffy grass, trimmed neatly across her front lawn. Pink and yellow blossoms reach out of the ground to border her walkway on either side. The air soaked in the sappy sweet smell of flowers and the wet growth of Spring. She makes note to ignore all of these things as she takes a sharp left out of her property and down the dirt road toward the markets. After a moderate stroll through the woodlands, she comes up on the edge of the markets. Shops alive with the sound of chitchat, gossip, and bargaining.

—

Not finished.

Our light has dimmed No outward laughter Or joking around For it affects your role in society You become distracted Or preoccupied You can’t have a hobby For there’s always work to be done So you must stay on task And not do anything to draw attention For we must study, and work Not gallivant around and give ideas to the children

Like every day for the past five years I woke up to look into the eyes of my least favorite person. A slow groan escaped me, as it did every day.

Putting on an awful flower dress, it chafed in places dresses shouldn't be able to chafe, I ate the rest of last week's bread. In a few days I would be able to start on this week's bread.

The government had outlawed happiness, and for good reason, and so we'd all adjusted. The Sects fed off on happiness, devouring the emotions and their vessels. Large cities had disappeared before new rules came to be. London had become no-man's land, controlled by the Sects. Only empty shells left of the humans inside. They belonged to the Sects now.

My shoes found the tiny wounds on my heels as I put them on. That was as it should be. Happiness, even in simple things, was dangerous.

My spouse got up, and scowled at me from across the hall. The mere sight of him revolted me, so much so, that I couldn't even find consolation in the fact that he felt the same way.

Outside, the first rays of the sun hit our windows, it would be another warm day. Thus, on my way out, I put on a thick hot winter jacket.

Stopping at a news booth, I scanned through the headlines.

"Parliament hits new dead end."

"The last resistance in Liverpool has fallen."

"10 tips to staying unhappy."

"Our vigilance against happiness must be constant."

It was the same shit stories as everyday. Five years of misery, and still no closer to defeating the Sects. Then again, good news would automatically brings the Sects attention down on us.

No friendly nods as I passed neighbours on the streets. I kept my eyes down, no point in opening up for potential risks. Every day someone failed, felt a little happiness, and brought the end a little bit closer.

A shout further up the street jarred me out of my doomful musings, and I looked ahead.

There was nothing much to see, but I listened. Screams were coming from around the corner. Rapid footsteps followed, and then people were running towards me.

No, not towards me. That's just a direction. They were running away from whatever caused the screams.

Stupidly, so very stupidly, I didn't turn to run as well. My traitorous feet lead me ever forward. Forward, and around the corner. There they stopped.

A couple of teenagers were kissing, and it wasn't hateful and ugly, but filled with joy. Teenagers were the worst at following the happiness ban, ruled by unruly hormones, they transgressed. Their short moment of happiness was beautiful to watch, and that thought took a moment to long to register with my brain. A very dangerous thought.

Something buzzed, vibrating through the air. Above the teens a Sect had arrived. Hovering gleefully, drinking in their happiness. Buzzing our end.

I'm caught in the net, same as the two hormon heads in front of me. Their radius extending too far to be safe.

Then the Sect began to work. The lifeforce of the teenagers dissipated, and was drawn into the sect. The colour leave them as they become hollow shells, bound to the Sect for life. Their individuality lost, their minds just another source of operating power for the Sects purpose. A purpose we don't understand, but experience every day.

I'd like to say it was gruesome to watch, but a small part of me welcomed it. Welcomed an end to unhappiness. Cause, having watched a moment of happiness, and in letting it enter me, I knew the Sect would turn to me next.

“What did you just do?”

Ace ducked their head as Liadain’s face paled, trying to hold their own smirk back. Ever since their father had started manipulating the world of Draenymis, granting himself power over the entire city, Manchester was grey and dull. Nobody laughed anymore, there was nothing to laugh at.

Nobody could imagine anymore. Nobody except the vilimora, all those Ace’s age and older with the power to walk in both worlds. Liadain, Aislinn, Rae, Isolde, Lucas, Oliver and all the rest. Those few teenagers Liadain and Aislinn got to before Benjamin Echols began his attack, Zero and the others Ace couldn’t name right now…

“It’s called smiling, Miss Haskins, you should try it sometime.”

Miss Haskins stood up, eyes blazing with a fury never seen in her eyes. “Out. Go and stand outside, Liadain.”

“Certainly.”

Ace tried their hardest not to react as their friend stormed out of the classroom, scared to incur the teacher’s wrath. Their father was hardly even able to feign tolerance of his eldest child anymore, the horrible b*stard that he was, but if Ace made even the slightest step out of line then they would be killed.

They knew it.

Their job — their job alongside Liadain and Aislinn and Ice and Zero, the members of the main five fighters of this new war — was to save Draenymis’ Manchester so that people like Ace and Aislinn and anyone else who didn’t fit their father’s normal could be safe.

Restoring happiness and colour to the city was just a benefit of the task.

Her walk was at a pace, neither too fast nor too slow. Her eyes were often sore from the implants to keep her world only black and white and the cool grays between. Slowly, the cone cells responsible for color had died out. The art she once expressed in multiple hues and brush strokes of every width and kind was now only used to draw straight and angled lines on blueprints for the building of a better society. The holoposters with their plain script, dark background holding a taint of beige words, reminded: Down with Smiles. Up with Frowns. / No Heart Shall Skip a Beat./ No Dreams Means Good Sleep. Worry and Don’t Be Happy. They had been so anxious about a possibility of joy that exclamation marks had been banned, and even question marks as well—-their soft curve at the top could be confused with the hook of a grin. It was a world of only full stops and once in a while a very daring comma.

The Decibel Law kept her days very quite. Even voices fell under that rule—-nothing was to be louder than 30 dB—-the streets, the offices were filled with carefully orchestrated whispers. No forte, only piano. Singing had been forbidden, even a hum might lift the heart and raise the breath. That could mean death. Rhyme was heavily discouraged and a limerick could cost you time behind the walls of a prison. They tried to keep everything perfectly regulated. It made for a polite society without emotional disruption. They kept their citizens reminded of that. Within her head from the chips placed right below the outside of her ear, osseointegrated, she was quietly reminded: stay away from cheer, don’t look at anyone straight on, don’t touch, don’t smell, don’t taste. Your eyes and your ears when under control will keep you steady. Stay calm. Carry on.

Suddenly, she stopped on the street. There was a momentary glitch in the system. Something emerged, her body shook, she remembered so long ago as a child…there was something red! So small! Held in her hands! Earthly aromatic! Soft to the lips! Sweet! A straw———— A blast came from the Osseointegrater, she felt only pain from head to toe. A voice neutral and informing: Careful. Memories can lead you to smile. To death. She was allowed to take a deep breath—-to calm—-to carry on. There was an automatic note in her file. First warning. Beware.

Her pace returned to neither too fast nor too slow. She stood in the line, remembering to look down, until it was her turn. Then after she saw the needle had been washed in disinfectant, she placed her wrist over the automatic injector. It was a fast pain that only made her lips sink in a slight frown. It was the weekly tranquilizer. It was free for all. She felt much better, any memory was gone. She went back home to work in her office, but first she checked on her daughter. She lay suspended in her bed with her nutritional tubes and educational feed. Until she reached 18, she would have to remain so. It was all for the best. They called it a restful coma. Children and teens could never be trusted to not giggle or smile. It had been that way for such a long while. That bio-engineered virus that had been used as a weapon. It only killed when the body released any signal of happiness or pleasure. Taste, smell, touch, the joy of color. And the most dangerous of all, to be avoided at all costs: love with its chemical reactions.

That’s something she could never have, never tell her daughter. But she had felt the deep sorrow at the death of her husband. She held onto that. It helped her survive. Stay calm. Carry on.

Despite the sun that shone above the people’s heads, not a single smile was to be found; not even that crinkle of joy that form around the eyes. They all exuded a dull and lifeless aura, had that not be the legally approved emotional state, people would have complained. The memory of a time before happiness had been outlawed was scarce, just as the law itself was oppressive. The government claimed that it was for the good of the people as a whole that happiness was banished, that too many envy related murders over someone else’s happiness was to blame and that to save the people they had to outlaw the very thing that they deemed poisonous.

Some had fought, but they were silenced; the government also kept a close eye on the people in their own homes, demanding that all happiness related things were to be purged. The world no longer has art, music, film, television or even books that weren’t non-fiction; now, all the people had was work, to be productive they couldn’t have anything else, 1984 has nothing on this world.

People couldn’t even pick their spouses, it was all done by lottery and careful genetic screening; it might as well be a giant cattle farm, and the government never addressed the rising suicide rates among the myriad of health problems that were also on the rise…

Day after day, it was wake up, school and work, which they all take home, some jobs have faded into obscurity, such as psychology and psychiatry, and the people have suffered for it.

But someday, perhaps someone will gather their courage to fight back.

“How come nobody is ever happy?”

“Happy? I rarely speak of such a thing,” said Harold, his icy voice matching his fierce green eyes. He adjusted the collar of his cloak and cleared his throat. “But — whatever do you mean?” Ellie replied, looking rather astonished. “Is this what the world has come to? Happiness is forbidden?” Once again, Harold’s mild expression of bewilderment was not shown across his face. He was like a soldier preparing for battle, stone faced, stood straight. “Well, yes, Ellie...” he said, trailing off. “Is this not what it was like before?” “No,” she mumbled. “Not at all.” Harold sighed heavily. Once, these two had been the greatest of friends. Now nothing but darkness. When Harold had been captured many years ago, it took Ellie what felt like a lifetime to find him. He had been brainwashed, everyone had been brainwashed, to believe that this was the correct reality. That this was the life to live. “How long was I gone for?” Ellie’s voice faded quickly. “I don’t know,” he replied quietly. “A few years, I suppose.” “But how? How wasn’t I affected? How didn’t I know?” She said quickly, her throat closing up. “You were travelling,” said Harold. “You did not stay in one place long enough to abide by their rules.” Ellie’s soft blue eyes lowered down her face. She paused, her fingers intertwined, and scoffed unpleasantly. “It does seem a shame,” he said, his voice not revealing any empathy whatsoever. “That we are going to be stuck in a world with such misery.” Ellie took one look at Harold. His black hat placed neatly upon his combed chestnut hair, his cloak flowing in the mild wind, and the fierce green eyes that used to be happy. “Now, now,” he said. “It will change. Sooner or later.”

“Why are you never happy anymore?” A sad girl at my side whined dolefully. I looked up at her sharply and clapped my hand over her small mouth. Then I glanced over my surroundings, assuring myself that no one was near. “Happy?” I questioned as if I had never even heard of the word. “Yes, you used to smile and laugh and tell us children stories. You are different now.” The child bowed her head sadly as she said these things. She was right. I knew this. But if she only knew the reason, she would understand. I had not been like this for long, only since “The Order”. This order was created by our despised commander, Laklan Corisant. It was a greatly foolish order, for it seized the only thing that kept the captives alive. Their happiness. They had all had it, no matter what they were going through, and it showed itself with a smile, embrace, compliment, or even a single nod of the head. The people here lived by happiness. And then it was forbidden. A throbbing shock to all residents. But it was not this that immensely bothered me. It was the thought that, never again, I would have the joy of smiling. For that, is what happiness shows itself through, and I was so extremely happy then. I had so much to show.

It used to be said that a smile could earn you points. Fast forward to today and now a smile will loose you points. In fact, it could get you a hefty fine or worse. You don’t want to know about “worse”.

Smiling was outlawed the year I turned 10 years old. It was a confusing time. I didn’t understand why you could be happy but couldn’t show it on your face.

Every day at school we had to recite the rule of law #97531, “A great law was passed in 1975. The law calls for the absence of smiles and high-fives. No person living in the sector governed by FROWN is permitted to display happiness in any manner or form. Anyone in violation of law #97531 will be required to pay fines imposed by the courts of FROWN. In the case of multiple offenses, will result in the removal of a tooth or teeth.”

We lived in fear of being caught with a smile or smirk on our face. I would have nightmares of having a mouth full of empty spaces where my teeth once stood. If you had any or all of your teeth removed you wouldn’t want to smile out of embarrassment and humiliation anyway.

My parents constantly reminded us to never smile or high-five. They couldn’t afford for any of us to be fined, as we were struggling now to pay for all of our expenses.

Some families were fined $10,000 just for a slight up-turn of their mouth. Even babies that smiled were fined! At least they didn’t have any teeth yet to be removed.

I was terrified that I would accidentally smile that when I was 12 years old, one day I taped my mouth in place. That didn’t last long because I couldn’t talk or eat without removing the tape.

I would hide under my covers at night smiling and silently laughing about things that were funny during the day or that made me feel happy. My sister realized what I was doing and scared me by lying and saying that FROWN had devices that could measure the happiness factor in the area and could track it to anyone violating law #97531. When she told me this I lived in fear of the authorities knocking on the door and removing all my teeth. After a few weeks of suffering in fear my sister admitted she lied. For the first time in weeks I could finally relax and not jump every time someone knocked on our door or when I would see the officers of FROWN walking down the road.

I asked grandma once why they made such an awful law. She explained that so many people were living in difficult times and didn’t have much to smile about. When someone had good things happen to them and they would smile or laugh it was considered poor manners to behave in such a way when others suffered so much. Smiling created a lot of jealousy and anger from those not smiling. Protest marches were organized to prohibit displaying forms of happiness. There were riots in the streets, clashes of extreme violence in certain areas. This is when FROWN passed law #97531. They suppressed smiling and high-fives in honor of those suffering and had no reason to smile and be happy.

I still smile and high-five in my head. No one can take that away. Sometimes you have to find your happiness and display it on the inside where it means the most anyway.