”Dear Love.” Mother shared a frightful look with Father before continuing on.
“Dear Love, I’ve read about you in books that Grandfather gave me. They speak as if you made people unintelligent. They speak as if you could change the world. Why did you leave? I feel I would have enjoyed knowing you. Mother says meeting new people is dangerous.
“She says that in the past, Love and Passion ruled the world. I assume this is similar to the dictatorships we read about in the Human History Transcripts in the virtual library. What are you like, Love? Do you put your left shoe on before your right? I dream about you, what you look like, what you smell like. I imagine myself in a field of scarlet grass, watching the stars prance about the sky. Mother says imagining is unsafe.
“Maybe she is wrong. Maybe I do not belong with th-” Mother cut off abruptly to banish a single glassy tear from rolling down her cheek. Yet once the first escaped her clutches, the rest bled down in an unbroken stream. Aurora had never seen Mother like this.
Father was speechless, yet his voice was firm as he uttered a single word, “Aurora.” Puzzled, Aurora walked forward as he rested his hands on her shoulders as if to keep her from floating away.
He then led her to the incinerator beside the door and handed her the stack of colourful letters. The scarlet flames danced across her vision, taunting her. They were vicious serpents of fury, sending showers of blood across the floor that were immediately snuffed by the cool air.
Realisation flooded her face. Aurora’s whole body was consumed in the crimson ophidians as her hands refused to budge. Father reached out to pluck the vivid collections of words Aurora could never utter. They were her means of communication. Without those letters, Aurora was a shell of a human being.
And Father just wanted her to destroy that part of herself? Before she could think, Aurora’s feet were moving on their own accord. Left, right, left, right.
Clutched to her chest were her letters as her feet pounded their triumphant symphony. Left, right, left right. Her chest heaved as she continued running.
“Aurora! Aurora! Where are you?” Father quickly followed her outside the house.
Turning, she saw his silhouette against the iridescent shield consuming her society, a stark contrast to the black canvas behind. The Barrier. Father would never step past it. If Aurora placed her letters on the other side of The Barrier, she would be free to write whenever she wanted. The crimson snakes would never reach them.
Left, right, left, right. Her heart beating a steady rhythm, sweat dripped down her back, caressing her skin. Left, right, left, right. Father’s shouts began to grow frantic, recognising where she was headed. Left, right, left, right.
Neighbours watched the action in confusion, people never ran in Society B3. That was for Society A10, the athletes. Left, right, left, right. Her legs began to grow tired as her muscles became taunt.
“Aurora! Please don’t go out there! It’s not safe! AURORA!” Father’s last shout sent a shiver down her spine. If she was to return to him, she would be sent away, her letters would be lost forever.
Left, right, left, right. The Barrier was nearing, a boundary of everything she had known approaching swiftly. Left, right, left, right.
Father grew hysterical, screaming for help, “My child is going to die! Please! Someone! Anyone!”. As he uttered the last word, Aurora’s foot crossed the iridescent line. The Barrier consumed her as she continued forward, letters clutched to her chest in desperation. Left, right, left, right.
Silence.
