The Glass which Once Glittered

Image result for glass background

Current Date: 16th April 2048

Swiping her hand, beep, Lily’s window bursts open. Fresh air caresses her face, as she glances at the beating heart of the sky shining down, through the glittering glass dome, onto her skin.

“Lily, breakfast is on the table!”, Dad shouts from the kitchen.

“Coming!”, Lily shouts.

But then she mutters to herself, “Every morning it’s the same, I don’t understand why he is still rushing, when nobody can leave until the same time anyway”.

“Lily!”, he shouts again.

Running down the stairs, she walks through the kitchen to the dining room. At the table are her Mom and Dad, all gleaming with optimism for a new day. Breakfast is always their favourite time, when they forget, and just smile. Prince, bounding into the kitchen, smudges muddy paw prints over the pristine white floor, drooling everywhere in response to the strong smoky smell of bacon rashers. Whimpering at Lily’s feet under the table, she picks up the rasher. Glancing at her parents to see if they are observing her, she slowly lowers it beneath the surface to be grabbed and gobbled. Wagging his tail, Prince skips off into the living room. Lily laughs.

But laughter is a permanent reminder of what she lost. As soon as the smile forms, it’s wiped away. Everyone moves on in their own ways and own times, however sometimes moving on is never an option, but a permanent scar of the loss. That’s the way it is in this version of living anyway.  Another day of everyone doing the same job, making the cameras used for your own self-destruction, implanting the thought readers and scanning eyes to extract the memories.

Another day over. Lily swipes her hand, beep, unlocking her home, the camera moves towards her movement. She steps inside. The door sounds once more, three high pitched beeps, this time, then slams shut, stabbing through the silence of the outside world. Today should be the day when Amber’s 30th birthday celebrations happen. The whole family should be smiling. Lily has gone about her day like every other, however now as she sits at the white grand piano in the dining room, the clock hits 19:43. The fluency of her playing stops dead. Tears roll down her pale cheeks. She stares outside, seeing Amber hide, using her as protection.

They were twelve. Suddenly whilst screaming with excitement they both pelted away from their Dad. Amber shoves Lily into their Dad’s target. Amber, stumbling, comes crashing to the ground, where both Lily and their Dad fall flat over her. Hysterically laughing, they look up to the glittering glass dome, pointing to the clouds. As they fade away Lily mourns. Stiff with grief, then she slowly but surely walks up the stairs to sit in Amber’s room, which remains untouched. Lily does this every year at the same time. She sits in the corner on the floor as her eyes move around the room. She hears rustling. So she attempts to stand up despite the grief. Spotting the window is open, she goes over to close it, puzzled with amazement. Whispering to herself, “But that’s impossible. Nobody can open the window without Amber”.

Walking across the room, paper crunches. She looks down, to find a dust ridden letter with her name on, written in Amber’s writing, sitting beneath her right foot. Picking up the envelope, she goes cold with shock. Lily tears open the fragile paper. As she opens it out, she pauses, feeling the sensation of being watched, she takes a glimpse outside, where two men at least six foot five stood, facing the house in black, expensive suits with glasses hiding their identity. She turns away in panic slipping out of sight and crawls to the other side. As if being pulled back, she attempts to look back. She crawls back to the window to peak out from the bottom. The two men were gone – disappeared from sight. With a huge sigh of relief, Lily looks at the letter, smiles and begins to read.

16th April 2035


If you’re reading this, I know you’re hurting. I am too. Remember how we always said, just because something isn’t said, doesn’t mean it isn’t thought? Dad used to repeat that odd phrase. Well that odd phrase applies now. Just because you can’t see or hear me, doesn’t mean I’m not here. You won’t have a lot of time to read this, so I must ignore everything I want to say, and push on with the important things.

We all live a lie. I mean, everyone tells lies at some point, whether to protect someone else or to protect themselves. But nothing is what we have been led to believe. Our death dates are based on when we lie, ‘They’ decide when we die. I walk around with the knowledge no one knows. (Although if you’re reading this, I guess I am no longer walking around). I walked past all of these innocent people, who go about their daily routines in our city, grabbing a coffee before work, looking down at their phones, before they begin another day. Nobody knows the truth. If people looked up and looked around, I wonder if they would rationalise the goings on. Notice the people who always stare. I did. I can’t explain the details, you have to work it out yourself. Otherwise I put you in more danger than you already are. You’re running out of time. Permanent is not the word used in this life-style. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Always a timer – never a rest. Remember this.

Growing up, we were told that home isn’t just a roof over your head and a place to sleep, it’s where you feel safe and loved. Safety is not even a term which can be used anymore. No one is safe. ‘They’ will strike. Always look behind your shoulder. If ‘They’ve’ seen you, ‘They’ are coming. Run. Go to the place where Nan & Granddad used to take us on holiday. You will be safe there. Begin there. I can’t name it, in-case ‘They’ are watching. There is a photograph under my pillow – you’ll recognise the place from that.

Look after yourself. I love you my little Lily- remember when I used to call you that?

I still do…

Again, you won’t realise why this important right now but before I go remember; Behind every law is a ruler, behind every ruler is an idea or belief, resulting in successful catastrophe or beautiful harmony.

Tread Silently. x


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