06 Feb 150 Word Stories

A Beautiful World

She sat in the dark, sobbing, absent-minded. Lately, her room was the only place she felt safe.

She had enjoyed being a twin, but ever since she hit puberty, she knew the end was near. And everyone else seemed to know, too. They had started looking at her with pitiful, sorry eyes. She thought her sister was so lucky: those blue eyes, that blonde hair. She loved her sister, but she desired with all her heart they could switch lives.

There was still so many places she hadn’t yet been to and so much she had left to accomplish. Her dreams of being a writer expired before she had the chance to write her first book. She wanted to get married, have kids. She would’ve even settled for falling in love once. Seventeen years had definitely not been enough. But she knew the rule: the ugly twin can’t turn eighteen. After all, this world is only for the beautiful.

Dark Days

The alarms go off and emit an earsplitting sound. The screens turn off. Everything is pitch black.

His Companion lies next to him, but the Silence regulation says they can’t continue conversing.

With all this time to think, he ponders upon the stories he has heard about his ancestors. In the old days, communities would have electricity all day and individuals had to decide when to go to sleep or when to wake up. He imagined having to pay for his electricity, or waking up at different times every day. That life seemed overwhelming and unmanageable.

In his world, every day at 5pm, electricity is cut off for 12 hours. All houses must remain quiet until sunrise. It’s a peaceful world, with no chaos and no disorder.

“Sleep well. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day,” says the Leader through the two-way sound device.

Every day was a long day.

Day Trip

I press my nose against the cage. I can’t see very well where we’re going, it’s all kind of blurry.

I heard them talking about the Hunters earlier, but I don’t think that’s where they’re taking me. Or at least I hope it’s not. Maybe we’re going to the Veterinary? But I’m not ill. Well, I’m never sure of anything nowadays. With all the medication they’re giving me, I’m not fully here anymore.

I barely remember who I was before this. I’m sure I have a family, somewhere, I just can’t remember their names or their faces.

The cloth draped over my cage is making me feel suffocated. I can barely breathe and my vision is hazy.

Suddenly, the cloth slips and I spot a sign in the distance: “Human Drop-off Station”. I get a rush of hope. The hope there are no beatings or punishments in my next home.