Rebel

“There had to be others who were immune like me… right? I mean, maybe I am the only one left, but before me, there must have been others like me with the same… what is it that the government calls them again? Oh, mental defects, that’s it. On the outside, I look just like everyone else. Okay, that’s not exactly true, because with my jet-black hair and piercing gray eyes, I definitely stick out in a crowd.

And the mental defects part? It’s because I am a Rebel. I didn't choose to become one, I was born one. When you are a baby in my village, you are given a title. The government says that your title is decided by the stars. As if the stars know anything. Anyways, when I was born, I was given the title of Rebel.

A Rebel is born only once every one million years. A Rebel is immune to…mortality. I can live forever. Until my sixteenth birthday, I am immortalized. But on my sixteenth birthday, this power disappears. But once every trillion years, a Rebel is born that is immortal forever. The government hates Rebels. And on their sixteenth birthday, the government will kill them, and they are usually always successful. So I have to die the day I turn sixteen. Today is my sixteenth birthday.”

“Perfect Blue, please come forward”, a computerized voice says over the intercom. I jump up out of my chair, then walk towards the ominous black door. The door slides open in front of me, and I walk through the door, trembling like a leaf in the wind, my skin so pale, it is almost translucent. “Perfect Blue?” a lady with curly auburn hair asks. Not trusting my voice, I nod. “My name is Arbela, and I’m going to ask you some questions, okay?” the lady says. Once again, I nod. It’s not like I have a choice anyway.

 “Sit down” Arbela instructs me, pointing to a wooden, hard-backed chair. I sit obediently, the chair creaking under my weight. Arbela sits down across from me, in a comfortable couch. Shouldn’t I be at least comfortable if I’m about to die? “You were orphaned at the age of seven, correct?” Arbela’s comforting voice brings me back to earth. Such a nice voice for a person who is preparing to kill me. “Yes” I respond. “After your parents died, you lived in government housing, and were provided food, water and other resources by the government, and have stayed there ever since you were orphaned?” Arbela asks. I nod ‘yes’ again. “That’s all” Arbela says, and walks out of the room. “Stay here” she instructs me. Then, she leaves.

I wait for what seems like hours. Then, finally, a group of doctors walk in, the lead doctor carrying a syringe. Turning towards the other doctors, the lead doctor says “This poison will cause death in a matter of seconds.”  The other doctors must be the lead doctor’s students. Turning back to me, the doctor plunges the needle into my arm. I wait for the pain, but feel nothing. I am still alive.

I hear the buzz of chatter from the group of doctors. “Why isn’t she dead?” I hear a doctor say. Suddenly there is an explosion. The smoke from the explosion blocks my view for a couple of seconds, and when it clears, I see Arbela. “Run!” She says. I sit in stunned silence for a moment. I finally realize what I have to do. “Thank you.” I say to Arbela, before running into the burning, golden sunset.

Story I wrote for ELA (english language arts) about a Dystopian society