When you are different, you can't just ignore you are different.
It’s impossible, unbelievable, and almost ridiculous not to notice. When you are different, your whole life is different, and that’s an indisputable fact. You have signs of it everywhere, reminding you constantly, with the same recurrence than the beating of an accelerated, nervous heart. It’s as obvious as the presence of the sun above us, and as clear as a cloudless sky that blatantly exposes it. There is no way not to realize, not even ignorance or foolishness can help you conceal it.
You notice in the honest answers of a mirror, when you don’t seem to understand the reflection. You notice in your experiences, when the reply that’s correct for everyone, for you it’s just not ok. You notice in your dreams, in your deepest desires, when something makes noise to you and for everyone else it’s silence. You notice in every way you look, in every place you visit, and in every breath you take.
But mostly, you notice in people.
It’s simple: you can effortlessly tell by the way they talk, by way they stare, or by the way voices turn into whispers when you walk by. Sometimes people’s eyes give you a better view of yourself than mirrors, clearer and easier to understand. Sometimes your reflection won’t give you the evidence you are looking for, as fast as the judging, alert eyes of the neighbor. Or sometimes, mirrors are not the public we want to impress. Or perhaps could a mirror laugh? Or perhaps could a mirror gasp when they see you pass? Or perhaps could a mirror point at you dismissively with a foul, scornful look on its face? Could it?
If you don’t know, ask little Dominick Faia, and the many funny stares he received from people that, unlike mirrors, he couldn’t just smash and break apart.
“I’d never seen something alike”
“Poor soul, he’s different”
If there’s something a little kid shouldn’t be familiar with, is a judgmental look. After all, how do you explain an infant that sour, vile expression? How do you make him comprehend that he’s always under watch, observed, talked about? Rumors run faster from mouth to mouth than blood runs through our veins and air through our lungs, because society never rests; you can always be the main topic of other people’s conversations without even knowing. But, the problem with little Dominick Faia, is that he knew.
How, you may ask? Well, because in his short five years of life, he’d heard more of those phrases than “hellos”.
-Here, use this- Miriam handed him an artifact quickly, not even bothering to look at him in the eye, as she continued with her hurried, desperate preparations for work. She was running late…again -And don’t you dare to take it out again, you hear me? I don’t want more funny looks from people.
Dominick nodded at her, and took the device into his small, pale hands. He stared at it. He stared at it with some sort of annoyance, some sort of repulsion. He never really liked the Eye-genda, it made him dizzy, or sometimes the plastic headband made that sensible patch of skin behind his ear ache. But everyone wore it, right? Maybe it was something adults got used to with time.
The Eye-genda was one of the most revolutionary invents of the tribe, permitting people to access all the multiple information of a computer just from a little hologram in front of their eyes, there was nothing wrong with it really. But Dominick just couldn’t get the hang of it…since kids didn’t usually get one until they were a bit older.
He would have liked to protest to Miriam, to tell her that it was not necessary, that he was not interested in the artifact yet. However, under the innocence and amusement of still being a child, he knew it wasn’t his contentment what his mother cared about. Anyways, he put the device on and stared at her inexpressively, the plastic behind his ear pressing way too tight.
-Don’t just stand there! Get ready! Your father must leave in five minutes, and he’s not going to wait for you! - She half said, half gulped down a hot cup of coffee. She was walking around the house rampantly, not a room in the house remaining untouched from the avalanche her hurried presence generated.
-I am ready- His tiny, dull voice was barely heard beneath the loud sermons his mother constantly gave.
-Then just stay there! - Dominick didn’t even know from what room of the house had her voice came from, yet the message was clear: I’m late, I’m nervous, I lost my favorite sweater and I need you not to bother.
So he just stared at the ground with resignation, his inquisitive eyes trying to find something of interest in the pallid tiles. The material was so clean, so shiny and clear, he was able to see his reflection. Well…at least part of it, since the whiteness of his own pale skin and hair had nothing to envy to the cold ivory of the ground. The only element which stood out, the only clearly visible contrast of the image, were his eyes. His big, shiny, eyes…oh how he wished he could just gouge them out. They’d brought so much pain to him, so much trouble…everything would have been so much easier if he’d been born without those wicked, damn eyes.
Nothing was wrong with their shape, and their sight seemed to be just fine. If it hadn’t been for the color, that abnormal, sinful, damned color. That color he associated with anger, that color he associated with disappointment, that color he associated with disrespect. For him, that color signified a life of obstructed passages, locked windows and closed doors. That color, that filthy color was…he didn’t even know. That’s just how odd it was: A color none of the millions of prodigious minds in the Violet tribe could distinguish.
If it hadn’t been for that color, if it hadn’t been for those weird, bizarre eyes, he wouldn’t have been different.
It took him a while to realize how captured and distracted he got by the image of his own orbs, and when he did, he turned the Eye-genda on. A rectangular, transparent orange hologram displayed in front of his view. He had had enough of his eyes for one day.
The walk was short, yet slightly unpleasant. The weather was freezing cold; snow covered almost every corner, adding even more lightness to the already white-painted buildings. The only thing that contrasted such clearance a little, were the winter garments some of the passers wore. Including himself, having his hair covered by a wool purple hat and his hands engulfed in the heat of a pair of orange mittens. That way he felt safe from the cold and the paleness of those ice-covered streets.
It was the first time he walked that direction; living near the frontier, he was used to walking further into the city centre, instead of getting away from it. His father, Damien, guided him with the naturalness and indifference he obtained from years of crossing the same streets everyday in his way to work. But for Dominick it was a whole new experience.
Houses were smaller, yet almost as luxurious and technological as the ones in his neighborhood. Usually, the ones who lived near the perimeter were the less rich families, and although the government made sure everyone had a lifestyle inside the average, there was a slight difference. Which Dominick’s observant and extremely curious eyes did not overlook.
“Their doors aren’t automatic” He thought as he walked pass one of the last houses of the city, fretful of his surroundings. He couldn’t believe that place was just ten minutes away from his own apartment “How do they open the door when they are carrying stuff?”
-Dominick, over here- The deep, rough voice of his father woke him up of his thoughts –This is the place. This is where I work.
The boy turned around, only to see a huge, black metal fence imposingly emerging from the ground. Hung in one of the bars, there was reddish sign which read: “Do not cross without authorization”. He couldn’t believe his eyes, never in his life had he seen something of the sort. It was so…rustic. Behind it, the floor was nothing but dusty soil, not smooth cement tiles nor shiny, clean marble. Just…ground…and snow.
He stared at his father with amusement, pulling from the fabric of his dress pants with concern. Damien just looked at him with a knowing smirk, feeling proud of his son’s astonishment.
-Tell me, little man, have you ever seen a Red? - He smugly asked, walking towards the gate and pulling something out of his pocket. Dominick, with his mouth opened wide by amazement, furiously shook his head. - Well, you are about to do so.
And with that said, he guided a white card through a sensor in front of the bars, causing the gate to sinuously open intoning a creaking, pitched sound.
-Welcome to the frontier.
Dominick’s jaw dropped. In front of him, there was a whole new world, a place not even books had dared to show him. There was a long, endless unmade road, which precisely determined the limit between what seemed hell and heaven.
From the closest side, Violet people in suits walked from here to there, taking down notes or talking through their Eye-gendas. All of them looked so formal, their hairs combed parted in the middle with such an accuracy it could have been measured with a ruler. Their teeth were as white as their pale skins and hair, and their posture was so straight a broomstick would have felt jealous. Along them, trucks and tows drove through the sandy street, raising huge clouds of dust and snow, and transporting enormous wooden boxes all along the perimeter. And, far away from his place, a huge, tall building with modern looks and lots of windows stood out.
However, on the other way of the road, he saw what stunned him the most: people with tanned skins, hairs of vibrant different colors and striking red eyes, were carrying boxes around or chatting with Violet businessmen. These creatures, of brawny limbs and tough complexions, worked like some kind of prehistoric animal in their natural habitat, by using brute, beastly movements and wagging their arms a lot as they talked. There was a small minority of them wearing suits and conversing with nearly royal manners, but most of them were dressed with a strange brown uniform and didn’t carry that charm. And, in the distance, he could spot the Red city, full of those tall exuberant buildings and smoking chimneys.
The kid was dumbfounded, unable to process what he was seeing.
-Come on, I don’t have all day- Damian forced him out of his staggered state, driving him back to vigil. He was already there, standing in the other side of the gate, looking at him expectantly. Dominick didn’t wait for a second before he eagerly followed him in.
His pace grew faster and his steps longer, since his whole body was involuntarily powered by excitement. It was not his fault, it was in his genes to be curious and inquisitive, and he was standing in what seemed to be another planet. He wanted to investigate, to look around and answer himself so many questions, but he didn’t dare to ask his father. So he just limited himself to walk by his side, exhilaration threatening to drop from his usually unexpressive features. He barely knew what a Red was, just what he heard his family talking during dinners or at gatherings. He never understood what made them different, who they were…and there he had them, right in front of his eyes. It wasn’t fair, he had the right to see.
-That large, modern building over there is the centre of the company. There’s where my office is- The man proudly explained, pointing at the edifice- I can show you around later.
-Mr. Faia! – A shout was heard in the distance, interrupting the conversation. Dominick turned to see a tall white-haired man approaching them hurriedly, dressed in formal clothes and carrying a suitcase in his left hand –I’m glad you are here, we were looking for you. You have a meeting with Mr. Fuang.
-Good morning, Rodericks. I’m sorry I’m late- Damian greeted with a bow- This is my second son, Dominick. He’s here to watch how we work.
-That’s perfect; I still remember the first time you brought Nicholas, that kid’s a prodigy.
-Indeed he is- The answer came soaked with pride- We expect the same from this little fellow
The boy suddenly felt his shoulder being patted and he was uncomfortable. His father barely touched him, but when he did it was utterly weird. Kind gestures from his parents only came in company of other people.
He heard the adults talking with deaf ears, he knew he was supposed to pay attention to their business, but he couldn’t really get himself to care. It’s just that…there was so much stuff out there! He wanted to explore, to see more of those unknown surroundings. He could learn more from watching the field work than by listening to those meetings, right? Maybe, if he was subtle, his father wouldn’t realize if he left for a bit. Just for a little, diminutive while. It would make no harm, he never noticed him anyways.
So, slowly, almost in tiptoes, he stepped away from the dreary, endless conversation. And, as expected, none of them turned to see if he was still there.
People around him moved in some sort of eternal frenzy, way too busy to even see him walking around. It was mostly merchandise traveling from the Red tribe to the Violet tribe, rather than the other way around. So, by extended logic, it was only natural that while his tribe needed lots of businessman to seal the deals and check on the products, the Reds would mostly need sturdy employees to carry the boxes into the trucks. And that was what mostly called his attention: the cargo people. Dominick was marveled, seeing the Reds working from across the road, not daring to actually cross it. How would they look from even closer? Would they look even tougher? Were their eyes even brighter? He couldn’t help but wonder; curiosity was taking over his mind.
His Eye-genda was still on, so there was no worry if people stared at him, they wouldn’t notice his eyes, so it was ok. Nick, who had been there multiple times since he was his age, had told him that the businessmen were way too busy and self-centered to even realize what was going on around them. “While they are talking through those devices, a bloody tsunami could sweep them away all the way through the frontier and they wouldn’t even notice, unless maybe it was their money which got carried away by the water” That’s what he could remember him saying, and there were no lies in those words.
He could feel his toes slowly freezing; he wasn’t used to walking directly into a thick mat of snow. In the city, street sweepers would clean every road and sidewalk, preventing colds and annoying wet socks. But here, where there was no control, cold was starting to charge its effects on him. He slowly drove his hand under his jacket, grabbed the Bio-regulator that was hanging from his neck, and pressed the temperature buttons. In moments like those, he felt grateful and proud of his tribe’s inventions’ efficiency, being able to control some of his body’s functions with a small remote.
With a warmer body, he kept walking along the unpaved road, absorbing the new surroundings. The methods Reds used to carry the boxes caught his attention. Some of them used trolleys or pallet trucks, and others just their natural strength by asking help to their companions and carrying it all together. The heaviest ones had to be tied to a long, thick rope that was connected to a pulley, which helped to settle them easily into the awaiting trucks. As well as endless lateral hoists, that saved them the job of taking the merchandise from one end of the road to another. From here to there, there were crates hanging around, flying over Dominick’s head once in a while, making him unable to stop glancing above. Everything was so exciting, yet weird:
From the filthy uniforms they wore, to the creaking sound their obsolete machinery did, or even the lack of subtlety with which they talked. He could hear their voices from afar, and their vocabulary was nothing to be envious about. They displayed way too much emotion, in levels he had never seen. For the Violets, emotion was symptom of lack of self-control; so this people were, in the eyes of Dominick, of an outstanding primitive nature. And, oh my god, had those two hugged? In public!?
He almost pinched his own arm to prove himself that what he was seeing was not part of some crazy dream, that he was completely awake…yet it wasn’t necessary; since it was another form of pain that brought him to realize he was no way under the effects of sleep.
A scream coming from a loud, high-pitched voice was heard. Dominick turned his head instinctively, his alert awoken by the sudden warning. But by the moment he registered what the warning was about, it was way too late: A giant, heavy-looking wooden box hanging from a rope, swung directly into his startled face. Ouch.
He fell backwards, his body lying on the cold, consuming snow. His head hurt dreadfully, stinging strongly in a certain spot, just above his left brow. His closed lids couldn’t retain the lights that appeared in his vision, and his sense couldn’t discern the lump in his throat between ache and vomit. He couldn’t move, neither he dared to open his eyes, knowing his head would hurt even worst. The option of remaining motionless sounded the most reasonable inside his messed-up head, as the lingering white lights drew a curtain between his mind and reality.
-Oh my god! Are you alright!?
That voice…he recognized that voice, wasn’t it the same voice that told him to watch out? Dominick didn’t know, but somehow that sound was pulling his strings back to consciousness.
-Are you alive, kid!?- It sounded so desperate, so full of emotion and fear…he’d never heard something like that. It terribly draw his attention.-Do not die, please!
Slowly, the abstract whiteness of the lights in his vision began to melt to the solid whiteness of his actual surroundings. There it was again: the cold snow, the blinding sunrays, and the mild smoke his ragged breath generated in the freezing temperatures. His lids began to slowly flutter and his vision to gain focus, giving every object around him a name and a sense. So slowly, he began to process what his eyes saw but his head couldn’t organize.
It was at that moment, while the different pale spots began to settle in place and construct a figure, that he noticed the different colored blur in the middle.
It was a round brownish smudge, almost like an overcooked pie. But in the centre, two big, red pearls where shining with a fiery, warm glint. Some bright strands, which he later recognized as hair, flew rhythmically with the freezing wind. It was just then, after every patch of color took its place and form, that he realized that what was standing right in front of him, was in fact a human being.
His head throbbed, he didn’t know anymore if it was due to the hit or the confusion.
It was a girl, a young girl, staring at him from above with the most pure and grateful face of relief. It didn’t matter from where he looked at her, she just couldn’t fit into his image of a normal someone. Chubby figure, tanned skin, vibrant hair and, staring deeper into him than he ever thought possible, a pair of consuming, crimson eyes. It was impossible, she was impossible; she was absolutely different to anything he had ever seen.
-You are waking up! - The scratchy, yet honeyed voice exclaimed. Her hand reached out to help him. And, even though she was missing some teeth, she gifted him an incomplete, open smile. -Are you ok?
It was at that exact moment when, for the first time in his life, Dominick thought that being different, wasn’t actually that bad.
He knew the girl had extended him a hand, he knew he was supposed to take it, and he knew he should have stood up instead of staring like an idiot. But he just couldn’t pull himself together and react. What was that creature?! Where did it come from?! Well, obviously from the Red tribe, dumbass. But, why was it there? Trying to help him? Was it safe to take her hand? Would she bite it? Or completely rip off his arm? Ok, by that point he was just being irrational, he had just hit his head badly, don’t judge him.
The girl, kind of annoyed and impatient by his lack of response, forcefully grabbed his arm and pulled him up from the piled-up snow. Dominick trembled, his balance almost failing as he rapidly took his hand away from the weird girl’s grab and stared at her uncomfortably. How did she dare to touch him?!
He just couldn’t believe the contrast between the two tribes: just a dusty road in between them, and yet they felt like two worlds completely apart.
-Are you going to answer me or what? - She immediately asked, crossing her arms as if she were offended. Wait. Was him the disrespectful one now?
-Eh? – It was the only sound that actually came out of his mouth. His big brain wasn’t used to losing focus so badly.
The girl just arched and eyebrow.
-I asked if you were alright! - She repeated herself, an intentional pout of bother displayed on her face.
-How can you be alright!?- She unexpectedly shouted, almost making him jump out of his skin- You are bleeding!
Confused, he drove his hand towards his itching forehead, only to see his mitten covered in a dense, red liquid on the way back. Oh. Suddenly his head began to ache even more.
-It is- He mentioned, panic slowly forming inside of him. But, because of his tribe’s unexpressive nature, not a single tear rolled down his cheek. He was not forcing himself not to cry, absolutely not, he just couldn’t do it. So, on the outside, he looked exasperatingly composed.
“Oh my god I’m bleeding! Someone help me! Can I die from this!? Am I already dead!? Is there a doctor in this weird place!?”
-How can you be so calm!? Are you even human, kiddo?- By this point, her confusion leaded her to grab the boy by the shoulders and shake him, as if she could take some sense out of him by wobbling him enough. But again, the specimen didn’t seem to react, just stare in disbelief and utter confusion. She sighed -Quickly, come on! - She grabbed his arm, again, and pulled him to walk towards the road -We need to find a grownup to heal you!
So off they went, Dominick only half understanding what was going on around him. As far as he knew, he had hit his head, almost fainted, opened his eyes to see an odd-looking thing, and now that thing was pulling him around the frontier. Wasn’t it confusing enough? He made his biggest effort to calm down though, trying to focus his thoughts in anything but the trail of red drops he was leaving behind.
They crossed the road, since his companion seemed to only be familiar with the Reds, and maybe she wouldn’t dare to talk to a random Violet businessman.
-Jim! - She shouted and pulled from the boy’s limb even harder, guiding him towards her already spotted objective. The strength she employed made Dominick reconsider the fact she may attempt to rip out his arm- Jim! Over here!
A tall, muscular, guy suddenly turned around. “Red, red again” the boy thought as he saw his eyes. He looked so annoyed , staring at everything around him with such disinterest. The usual brown uniform was the only garment covering him from the cold, and a bored, indifferent look the only emotion displayed on his face.
-Bell?-He muttered out in confusion.
“Bell…so that’s her name” Dominick thought with relief.
-Jim, this kid bumped his head and he’s really hurt and-
-Whoa, where did you take a Violet from!?- He interrupted her, his eyes completely stuck at the white-haired boy’s figure. His nose wrinkled and his brow furrowed, a look of downright disgust invading his features.-You know you aren’t supposed to play with those
Those words acted like a trigger: Bell’s expression suddenly changed, her aura displaying evident fury. Her head rose up with determination, her teeth gritted with concerning pressure, and her foot stomped against the ground predicting the coming tantrum. A calm temper didn’t seem to be one of her traits.
-But can’t you see he is bleeding, you toast!? Please help him!- She roared with anger, her fists shaking with eagerness to punch.
“What kind of person uses “toast” as an insult?” Dominick was beginning to doubt if he should really question the situation by then.
-No can do, Bell. I told uncle Joe it was a bad idea to bring you here, but he just won’t listen- His complains didn’t do much to Bell’s fierce resolve, only obtaining a sharp look from her.
-Alright then, I don’t need you! Come on, Violet kid!
And off they went again, the little girl pulling forcefully from his arm while the boy let himself be dragged at her will, almost as if he were a mere sack of potatoes. Inside Bell’s mind, there was pure willpower and rage, the reason behind her actions completely forgotten as she brutally pulled from the injured kid. While, inside Dominick’s mind, there was just a sea of bloodstains and confusion. The more time it passed, the dizziest he felt. Passing out still didn’t seem like an impossible option.
In the course of fifteen minutes, the kids had asked for help to about half of the Red workers. The politest answer they got was a simple “no” together with a crooked grimace. Lots of them suggested the girl to let the boy die in the cold, others even told the five-years old to “go back to the filthy hole he came from”, but most of them just turned around and avoided any sort of answer.
But the common denominator all of the singular reactions they got, was that look. The look of prejudice.
However, it wasn’t the look of prejudice Dominick was daily given, absolutely not. Something about it felt off, it felt sharper; as if somehow the already foul odor of rejection was able to get rotten. It was strangely different to the ones he received from the other Violets, this look didn’t contain sorry like the glances he was used to. It contained hate, pure and utter disgust.
A hate and disgust, these two little children were too young and innocent to understand.
-What’s your name, by the way? - Bell asked all of a sudden, her pace already slower because of the exhaustion and the frustration of being ignored.
Dominick, who by that time had half of his face covered in dry blood, wasn’t in the best situation to begin a casual conversation. He did the best he could, though.
-Uhm, I’m Dominick Faia- The answer was spoken as a low mutter. Half because of his dizzy state, half because of his frequently shy nature.
-Eh?! Your name is Domino!?- Her eyes widened in complete shock, turning around to look at him with the face you would look at a barking fish with.
-What!? No, that’s not what I-
-Follow me, Domino! You are walking way too slowly!
He didn’t feel like trying to correct her anymore, it was apparently useless. How could a person be so easily distracted? He couldn’t help but to feel a bit annoyed, but mostly, he felt immeasurably curious. Never in his life had he seen someone like her, so accelerated, energetic, talkative and impulsive. It was a completely different nature…but he didn’t necessarily dislike it. It was fun to listen to her different reactions towards the people who refused to help, to see the different pouts and grimaces she would outline, or to hear the angry mutters she released every time they walked away from a failed attempt. But on top, he happened to enjoy the way she talked. It was so brute, so frenetic, so outright sincere. It brought his soul some kind of peace, some kind of relief…it made him feel at ease regardless of his condition.
-What are you doing in the frontier, Domino? - The hasty question paused his dense avalanche of thoughts.
-Really? Mine too! He carries the boxes; he told me that one day I will be doing the same thing, so he brought me here to look at his work.
Somewhere, deep inside his heart, he felt oddly related. He knew his father wanted him and Nick to be just like him, or at least successful in any way. That was the main reason for him to be there that day.
-Do you want to work here? - He asked, not just from mere curiosity, and stared at his feet in silence.
-Maybe, but I would really like to be a chef!
The boy couldn’t help but smile, that girl’s enthusiasm being agreeably contagious. To be honest, it was the first time he had ever talked with someone his age for so long. He wasn’t really talkative, and most of the other kids usually ignored him or pay attention to something else. School in the Violet tribe didn’t start until the age of six, so he didn’t have many chances to talk to other children either. Therefore this was a brand new experience for him, this kind of interaction. He had almost forgotten about the cut in his forehead, as he had so many other things to think about.
They continued walking, this time towards the tall building with the offices, to see if they could find Dominick’s father. They got tired of being rejected by so many reds, so they decided to look for Damian directly. It wasn’t such a long walk, but somehow it felt eternal. Maybe because of their disorientation, or maybe because of the fact neither of them were actually fast walkers.
In the mid time, they joyfully chatted…well, Bell chatted. She asked him about anything and everything, and told him about so much random stuff he got lost at some point. But the other didn’t seem to care, he just limited himself to listen and shortly answer her questions, since he discovered he was more of a listener than a talker.
-And what’s that thing over your eyes? -Didn’t that girl ever got tired from asking so many questions? He wasn’t used to such talkative people! -The orange thingy, what is it for?
-You mean this? - He questioningly pointed to the black headband of the Eye-genda, the possibility of this creature not knowing about the existence of such technology suddenly reaching his mind. When Bell nodded, his eyes widened in incredulity- It’s an Eye-genda
- It’s like a computer, I guess
-Cool! I wish I had a computer
Dominick almost chokes on his spit “She doesn’t even have a computer!?” He couldn’t believe it, everyone needed a computer! It wasn’t part of his personality to contribute questions to a conversation, but the situation dictated it.
-Excuse me, but how can you not have a computer? - The boy asked bluntly, staring at her in disbelief.
-We can’t pay computers; I don’t think I need them, though I would like to know how to use one- She smiled at him, then crooked her head to the side- My dad says you always need computers because you are computers.
For a moment, the ground under Dominick’s feet didn’t feel as concise anymore. Was it true? Well, they did have mechanical additions in their bodies to help some functions, also the Bio-regulator was hanging from every single Violet’s neck since their first minutes of life. They had a constant screen displayed in front of their eyes, and tools never left their hands as numbers never left their brains. Even their blood-type was modified, every single citizen being an AB+, in order to find easy donors in case of an emergency.
It was for the better, of course. Since the Violet tribe was perfect, and every decision they took and invention they created was perfect. Right?
Bell’s dad must have been quite ignorant and Reds quite judgmental to say something like that…Right?
-Dominick, there you are! - The impulsive voice made the two kids turn around startled, only to see Damian running towards them, not looking happy at all - What are you doing!? I told you not to walk away from me and…what happened to your face!?
The boy suddenly remembered the cut on his forehead, and memory also brought back the aggravating feeling of pain.
-I bumped my head- He shakily answer, trying to ignore his throbbing eyebrow.
-We need to take you to a doctor, come here immediately!
No, he didn’t want to go, he didn’t want to return to the Violet tribe. He still had so many things to explore, so many doubts to resolve, so many questions to ask that oddly amusing girl. He stared at her quickly, as if asking her with his eyes to do something, to stop his dad from taking him away. But her face didn’t show any signs of opposition, but a small gloomy glower.
He felt his arm being grabbed again, but this time by a much stronger and bigger hand. Mutters and grunts were heard under his father’s breath, and a very noticeable wrinkle made its appearance between his brows. As if, somehow, his fury was escaping from under his calm mask through that tiny rift, only noticeable in the eyes of his son. He was mad, oh he surely was. Whenever Dominick saw that face, he knew he was in deep trouble.
Damian pulled at his arm fervently, making him walk away and leave the Red kid behind.
-You imbecile! - He sharply whispered in his ear- I told you Reds are not to trust! Did that thing hit your head? – The boy was about to answer, but he was abruptly interrupted- You made me miss out a reunion, Dominick! Once you see a medic I’m going to seriously punish you! Why can’t you be more like Nick? The first time he came here he listened to every single meeting I had, and he kept silent! Don’t you care about your future, young man?
Nevertheless, as his father talked on, his mind started to drift somewhere else. He turned around once more, admiring what he left behind, and saw Bell kindly waving at him from the distance, as he felt that previously nice sensation in his stomach turn into a tight, hurting knot. He sulked, experiencing for the first time the meaning of the word “goodbye”.
He stared at his father, but not a hint of resignation stained his dull, pale face. On the contrary, it was nothing but pure and sheer determination. The boy had felt something odd while walking through that endless road, he had answered so many questions yet asked himself so many others. He was a Violet, a curious being by nature; he just couldn’t help the unbearable need of overflowing his brain with knowledge.
After all, life’s about, the eternal resolution of dilemmas, the endless solving of questions to find out who we are. Each person we meet, each place we visit, and each experience we live, is a mystery we need to solve. And there, while learning about that different whole new world, he had found a door he was willing to unlock. His parents might have been angry, his tribe must have been against it, and he, himself, might have been confused.
But, if Dominick knew something as his dad violently dragged him away from the cold, white frontier, was the fact that he would return. And he would find her again.
When Dominick turned six the next year, it was time for him to go to school. His parents told him that way he would stop thinking about nonsense, that the Progress Nation’s educational system was meant to make him understand why things were the way they were, and teach him how to behave properly at that perfect society of theirs.
Don’t get things wrong, the youngest Faia had never been a troublesome kid. But gossips are easy to spread when you have an Eye-genda, and rumor had it that the daily “walks” the boy took weren’t exactly through the neighborhood streets. In addition, the boy was beginning to be perceived as the district’s misfit, being interested in eerie, controversial stuff and talking in a rather unusual way.
Miriam and Damian denied these facts completely, they denied them to the rabble askers, and they wished they could deny them to themselves. After all, there was no way their son wasn’t normal, they were a perfectly normal family, and his older brother was good influence. People were just getting everything wrong…
But the truth, although null in his parents’ will, was that Dominick had made his own way. He didn’t fight them, or terribly disagree with their opinions; but he had found a crack, an opening in his family’s reality no one else was able to see through. And, through that opening, he had seen Bell, he had seen the Reds, and he had seen there were further horizons than the ones he stared from his bedroom window. He may have been really young, but his tribe had already bred his brain as a prodigious one.
Disguised in one of his brother’s large overcoats, he left his house everyday and walked towards the frontier. Every single minute he knew both of his parents would be at work, he spent it there. He spent it with Bell.
Thus, when at his first day of school he was given his first textbook called “Introduction to the study of races for children- Part 1”, his attention got caught by an unsettling paragraph:
“Another example is the Energy Tribe, which obtained their characteristics from the Red pill. These are not as disorganized as the Sun Tribe, but are equally chaotic. Their pill used to gave them the vigor and vitality they needed to proceed with their tasks, but it brought as well the lack of focalization and concentration. They are self-centered, obnoxious and usually unrealistic”
He stared at the text puzzled, reading it over and over again. And as he did, something inside his mind did a revealing click. Something about his life suddenly stopped making sense.
What were those words? Who wrote them? Why?
As he continued to study it time and again, he couldn’t stop distrust from taking over his senses, from taking over his mind. Inside of his head, a fierce battle between education and his own experiences began, but it was meaningless. That text, that information…he didn’t believe it. No, not a single word of it. It was ridiculous, unbearable, and outright unfair. Why didn’t any of his classmates complain? Why was the teacher ok with teaching those blasphemies? He felt confused, he felt betrayed, and he felt furious. Deep inside of his heart, the seed of doubt was planted and, from that point, there’s no turning back.
For the rest of the class, Dominick did nothing but rereading that same paragraph over and over again, and repeat inside his head like a mantra the thought that had turned his life upside down forever:
2087
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