Year 3000

February 5, 2017
By emilymackling BRONZE, Tiffin, Ohio
emilymackling BRONZE, Tiffin, Ohio
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

It’s been like this as long as I can remember. The drugs scattered around the house, every house I have ever stepped into. They say that using these types of drugs used to be illegal. People would go to jail for tens of years. Now, the government forces it upon us. I have been taking drugs for seventeen years. I get injected with a liquid form of marijuana every morning, afternoon and night. Sometimes, it wears off early. When it wears off early, we are told to take more. We are to always be high. The world has turned so poor ever since America’s government went corrupt. Once that happened, we stopped importing and exporting goods from every country. We entered total isolationism. We grow our own marijuana, every family is required to. We grow all organic everything. Everyone is very healthy. Schools have stopped teaching foreign languages. It has been this way, my parents tell me, for fifty years. My name is Georgia, and this is my story.
“Have you taken your morning dose, Georgia?” My mother calls from the downstairs area of our house. Her voice walks through the air slugishly. She has taken two doses this morning, it’s only seven, she’s been up for an hour.
“No mom, I just woke up, I need to get ready for school.” I call back. I always try and get out of taking the drug. Not having control of my body, of my mind, it makes me feel incompetent. I would much rather think with my natural, unaltered mind.
“Okay, don’t forget to take it before school.”
Sometimes, my mother uses all of her monthly prescription, so she uses mine. She was around when the use of drugs and the isolationism was still very new. It caused rebellions all across the country. We learn about it in school, but none of the teachers were alive during that time. The government fired all teachers that lived before the isolationism and at the beginning of it. They didn’t want anyone going against their new ideas. So, they hired all teachers that have known nothing but isolationsim and drugs their whole lives.  But we learn and are advised that our parents don’t necessarily know how to handle all of it, so they use more drugs than we do.
I venture downstairs, ready to go to school and I go to the kitchen to eat. We have fruits, vegetables, and meats. All natural, all organic. I go to the medicine cabinet to get my dosage of drugs. I stare at it for what seems like hours. Mesmerized by it’s clear liquid which seems to be hypnotizing. How can this small amount of liquid, alter how I view everything. I have never not taken a dose. I have always gone to my classes drugged. But today, today is different. I won’t take it today. I feel a weight on my chest. I’m not hungry. But my brain, it’s thinking with more complexity than usual.
I arrive at school. It’s simple to tell who is high and who is not. It’s not very often there’s someone who isn’t high. But, not today, today it’s me and Jackson, my across the street neighbor. Automatically our eyes meet and it’s obvious that our eyes are not bloodshot and we are in our “right” state of mind. This is the first time I have ever really noticed Jackson. I’ve known him my whole life but I never thought of him as anymore than my next door neighbor. He’s incredibly handsome. He has eyes, blue-green, like the most beautiful sea in the western hemisphere. His hair is black as night. It lays about his head perfectly, falling right above his eyebrows with a sort of wave. He’s tall too. It seems as though he could reach the clouds. His hands looked like they never saw a day of labor, they looked like smoothe. His face was like porcelain, and he was intelligent. I never thought of him in this way. Was it because I am never in my right mind?
“Georgia, what is wrong with you?” Asks my teacher, Miss. Hayman.
“Nothing Miss. Hayman, I’m sorry.” And as soon as those words leave my mouth, I know that I am caught. My speech wasn’t slurred or slowed or overly paced. Her eyes seem to turn to slits. Maybe that part is just a figment of my imagination.
“Georgia,” she said in a tone I had never heard from her before “did you take your dosage this morning?” Clearly, I did not. But this question, she’s not allowed to ask. Despite the fact that our government makes us take drugs because they’re so bad, they value our privacy. What we do at our house is strictly our business. Anyone that works for the state, like teachers, are not allowed to ask what we do outside of school.
“Miss. Hayman, I respectfully decline to answer your question due to the fact that, legally, you are not allowed to ask me what goes on at my house.” I say as sarcastically and respectfully as I can manage. She looks at me, her eyes still look like slits. I have only ever seen eyes like this is politians. I shrug it off and start to work on my school work.
After school, Jackson comes over to me. My heart flutters like I have never experienced. I can feel the blood rush to my face. My cheeks are red like a cardinal.
“Hey, I noticed that you don’t drive, you bus to school. Would you like a ride home?” He inquires. His voice breaks while he’s talking, his face, also cardinal red.
“Oh of course. I would love that, thank you.” I say, sounding much more dumb than I normally do. I normally speak with steadiness and clarity. Not this time, not to Jackson.
We go to his car. He drives a Jeep. His jeep matches his hair, it’s black as night. I notice that the roof is off and there are no doors. I have never been in a car with no doors or roof. I feel my jaw dropped slightly and my eyes bugging, my eyebrows furrowed.
“What’s wrong?” A look of confusion strikes Jackson’s face. I almost feel bad.
“Nothing, I’m sorry. I have just never seen a vehicle without it’s doors or roof.” I say, sound more dumb than I had the first time I talked to him.
“That just makes it more fun to drive in. Go ahead, get in!” He then takes my bookbag and throws it on the floor in the back. The Jeep sits off the ground quite a bit. I almost have to jump. I don’t stand very tall, but eventually I am in.
We live about twenty minutes away from the school. The road from our house to the school is beautiful once you get out of the city. It has all kinds of twists are turns and are lined with trees. In the fall, nothing can compare to it’s beauty. Jackson even looks like an angel when he’s driving. What am I thinking? I have known of him my whole life; I have never thought of Jackson this way. I feel his eyes on me, I look over and he’s smiling.
“What was Miss. Hayman’s question to you about?” He laughs but has a tone filled with concern.
“Oh, I don’t know. That was pretty out of the ordinary.” My voice doesn’t quiver this time.
“Look Georgia, I can tell that you didn’t take your dosage. It’s okay, I haven’t been taking mine for a few years now. You really have to learn to pretend that you did, it’s extremely obvious.” Concern fills his voice this time, there is no laughter.
I know. I felt like I was actually living today. I have never felt this way. Suddenly a police starts flashing their lights behind us. We pull over. We are told to get out of the car. We oblige. My brain is in complete turmoil I don’t understand what is happening. I can feel sweat beads racing down my forehead and I glance at Jackson. Fear encapsulates his whole body. We’ve been busted. They know that we haven’t taken our medicine. They’re going to take us to the highest maximum security prison because we are a “danger to society” I am never going to see my family or friends again, I’m never going to see Jackson again. Suddenly, I feel a prick and everything goes black.
I wake up, what seems like days later, in a fiberglass, soundproof cell. I’m here. I’m here and I’m never going to be able to leave. They will either kill me or torture me to the point that I am under the government’s complete control. I should have taken my dosage. I have been warned about this ever since I could comprehend and utilize direction. Suddenly, a TV screen shows Jackson’s face. A woman is explaining that Jackson had been sent to a government facility and was killed shortly after. Jackson was gone. What if I was next? What if I only live to be sixteen. A force so strong it knocks me out is exerted on my head. This is the end.

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