It was like walking into a dream, foggy and unrealistic. People walked in single file lines, smiles spread far too wide across their faces and everything too perfect. Neatly mowed lawns, loving parents, pastel-painted houses, and white, straight teeth. Everything moved in sync– men cooking in the kitchen, women with briefcases, and occasional calls for children to eat supper. Everything was normal, yet too good. No chaos, no brawls in the street, no mean bullies. It was perfect. The perfect place with pretty, perfect people. They don’t know what’s going on beneath the surface.
“Sir, is everything alright?” a voice asks, and I whip around to see a teenage girl. A smile is fixed on her face, barring bleached teeth. I nod my head, yet she stands, unmoving, clasping her hands behind her back. No, no, it’s not ok.
“Well, may I escort you back to your home? It’s supper time.” Thinking feels like wading through swampy waters and sinking every step of the way. Every night it’s the same meal: chicken, green beans, and a side of pink pills. Cook, clean, repeat.
“Supper, right, lead the way.” My voice sounds different, more mechanical as if it isn’t me saying these words. A cold hand latches onto my wrist and I cringe, feeling the muddy brown of the girl's eyes bore into my own.
“Great.” She beams. As I follow her down the sidewalk, colorful houses pass in a blur of panic. The girl’s grin never leaves her face, in fact, it grows wider to where I can see her gums. Perfect, pretty people with perfectly practiced lives. It’s a game, one wrong move, and you're eliminated. A slip of the tongue, staying out past curfew, even thinking the wrong thing, and you’re done. The ideal life comes at a cost– a cost that no one wants to pay.
“Sir, if you would please follow me?” She leads me toward a large brick building with intricate marble statues. The town hall, people go in and never come out. My mind pulls up the traitorous image of me tossing our mandatory pills down the drain. She knows what I did. I feel my feet falter as the girl tugs me along. Her eyes narrow, the only sign of frustration she will allow to penetrate her mask.
“It is only a check-in, to make sure everything is as it needs to be.” Panic sparks in my chest, flowing through my body, yet my feet move on their own accord. This isn’t me, this isn’t me. The grin on her face grows wider, sending shivers down my spine. Coldness seeps through the thin blue cotton of my shirt as we enter the foreboding doors.
“We have been expecting you.” Doors slam, lights flicker off, coating everything with a thick layer of darkness. A scream leaves my mouth, hands clamp on my wrists, and shove me into a chair. The lights flicker again, and I see glimpses of the boss, her obsidian eyes devouring me on sight.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I choke out, fear clogging my throat. She knows what I did, she’s going to kill me for it. The boss smiles, a wicked and dangerous thing to behold. One snap of her fingers and a syringe comes forth. A thick silver liquid sloshing inside.I’ll be perfect, I’ll be good, I’ll take the pills, just don’t hurt me! My mind screams the words, yet I can’t move. Everybody's smiling, too wide. Blood drips from the corners of their mouths as it splits the skin of their cheeks. Still grinning, with empty eyes and bloody faces, they look like monsters.
“Smile for me.”
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