B. by SIR CLAM

I got up and walked to my calendar. It said February 13, 2108, I couldn’t be more excited. One more day till my favorite day of the year. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, the one day where you get to love, because nowadays there really is no love and this is why…

A long time ago, in 2009, “they” captured love. “They” say around the era love was taken for granted, people would just walk around loving, loving everything: loving the trees, their pets, the people around them. People just loved like it would never get away from them. They say the reason “they” took it away is because if people love as much as they did, love starts to mean nothing.

But on Valentine’s Day “they” give everyone the best thing in the world, a gallon of love. It’s really not hard to carry love. In reality, love barely weighs a pound. “They” say if love weighed any more, love would be a burden. Nobody wants love to be a burden.

So as I was saying “they” took away all the love in the world, and now “they” keep love all in one place. The thing is, nobody knows where that one place is. Nobody even knows if that place is reachable. Some people dedicate their whole lives to finding that one place, but nobody actually knows where that place is, unless you’re one of “them”.

But every Valentine’s Day they give each person a gallon of love, and you can distribute that love to any person or people you want. Some people give all their love to themselves, but that’s a sin, and if you do that you get a day in the Pitt. The Pitt is a dark hole that goes about 100 feet down into the earth, and if you do something wrong you spend one day in the Pitt .

The Pitt is not a good place because everyone that does something wrong goes to the same place. So you could have given all your love to yourself and get stuck in the Pitt with a murderer. But some people say it’s worth it. I think it feels just as good to give love as it is to get love.

“B.,” my mom shouted

“Coming!” I yelled back

I know what you’re thinking, and no, my real name is not B. it’s Beatrice, but when my mom and dad received me “they” had given me the name Beatrice, and there’s no complaining to “them.” But neither of my parents liked the name Beatrice whatsoever. My mom says when something like that happens, just make the best of it, so when we are inside my name is B. But outside, we are not allowed to have nicknames or rather “pet names,” so outside I am once again Beatrice.

“B!” My mom called again.

I just remembered I hadn’t had any breakfast, so I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a box of cereal.

“B!” My mom screamed. She was getting angry.

The box was empty. I jumped in the car with a growling stomach. I asked where we were going, but my mom’s cell phone rang so she answered it instead. When you get a call on your cell phone it’s never good. These are the things it could mean: Someone in your neighborhood died, someone in your family died, or “they” decided on a new law and wanted to notify you of it.

In our case somebody died. We had never really met him but apparently he lived about two blocks down the street. When my mom told me I didn’t mind because I didn’t know him but I gave a little moan anyway just so she knew I took recognition of the fact.

Wow, that car’s going really fast.

I knew I didn’t have to say anything. It would all end up well. Either the car would come to a screeching stop or my mom would notice and do something heroic. But the car was still going really fast and my mom wasn’t noticing,

“MOM!” I screamed,

“LOOK!”

I looked at the clock. Two hours had passed and I was on the floor of the family room at my house. It felt like someone had snapped my collar bone in half. Maybe someone had and I passed out from the pain. I saw my dad sitting in the middle of the kitchen on the hard metallic chair. I walked over and asked him what had happened. He just told me to go to my room. I sat there for a moment and then remembered the crash. Then it hit me. I ran out again and screamed.

“Mama! Papa, where’s Mama? Where is she Papa? Where is she?!?”

“SHE’S DEAD!” Papa screamed.

I felt like a stone placed on a hill. I felt like my whole life I had been rolling down that hill until now. Until now , when I hit a ditch and just sat there like a stone in a ditch. I didn’t go to my room, I didn’t hug Papa I just stood there like a stone, a stone in a ditch.

Two hours later I checked into the orphan house. Did I not mention that widowers are not allowed to raise children? I guess not. I never thought I would have to.

From that point I went to sleep, even though it was only 6:00.

Nothing really mattered to me anymore. Why should it? I closed my eyes and counted to ten. One, two, three, four, five.

A long time ago in 2009 “they” captured love. “They” say around the era love was taken for granted, people would just walk around loving, loving everything loving the trees, their pets, the people around them. People just used love like it would never get away from them. They say the reason “they” took it away is because if people love so much as they did, love starts to mean nothing.

But tomorrow “they” give everyone the best thing in the world, a gallon of love. It’s really not hard to carry love. In reality, love barely weighs a pound. “They” say if love weighed any more, love would be a burden. Nobody wants love to be a burden.

So as I was saying, “they” took away all the love in the world and now “they’ keep love all in one place. The thing is nobody knows where that one place is. Nobody even knows if that place is reachable. Some people dedicate their whole lives to finding that one place, but nobody actually knows where that place is, unless you’re one of ‘them”.

But every Valentine’s Day they give each person a gallon of love and you can distribute that love to any person or people you want. Some people give all their love to themselves, but that’s a sin, and if you do that you get a day in the Pitt. The Pitt is a dark hole that goes about 100 feet down into the earth, and if you do something wrong you spend one day in the Pitt . But the Pitt is not a good place because every other person that does something wrong goes to the same place, so you could give all your love to yourself and get stuck in the Pitt with a murderer but some people say it’s worth it. I think it feels just as good to give love as it is to get love.

“B.” my mom shouted

“Coming” I yelled back

I ran right to the car. We started driving.

Wow, that other car’s going really fast.

“MOM!” I screamed.

I looked at the clock. Two hours had passed and I was on the floor of the family room at my house. But suddenly everything went black, like I had a flashback or something.

I sat there quietly with my fists tightly clenched. I couldn’t remove my gaze from the platinum framed mahogany wood door. My stare moved quickly from the silver peephole to the platinum handle. I couldn’t focus. My eyes became slits. But then my vision became clear again. I froze. I had one minute and fifty seven seconds. I tried to calm myself. It didn’t work. I looked back at the clock, thirty nine seconds; I quickly turned toward the door. Fourteen seconds I guess all I could do was wait. I prayed that th- EIGHT SECONDS! The smooth black plastic of the second hand ticking calmly I wished that it could just stop for five, four, three, two, one.

I was back in my living room. I felt that I had lived that moment before. But I knew I hadn’t. I felt like just then I was in my eighties. And I was only 14 just yesterday. Yesterday, what had I done?

Just yesterday… I had no idea why I couldn’t remember.

That night I signed into the orphanage and went to sleep. I couldn’t believe what had happened, but I had to go to sleep some way. I just counted one, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

I woke up and almost walked to my calendar, I didn’t need to. I knew what day it was. It was the 13th.

I had done this before. I knew this day. I had lived it before. I had. I don’t know how or why, I just knew that I had. We were going to get in a car crash today near 12:30.

“B.!” my mom shouted

“No, don’t do it! Don’t do it!” What was I saying? She knew too. She had to.

I had to get out of here. I didn’t know what to do.

I broke the window. It shattered into about 40,000 pieces like an icicle thrown on pavement. And woke up again in this dark room. I didn’t know where I was. I couldn’t lift my head. I looked down at my body. It was the body of an eighty-four year old woman.

I knew where I was, I knew what had happened and now I knew why “they” had done it. I had just remembered. I just remembered. We lived in a society where nobody died of old age. When you turned eighty-four “they” would take you away and put you in a cell. There were two different types of cells: the good type and the bad type.

My society believed in reward and consequence. All I knew was I was in a cell, a bad one, but why? And why had I lived that one day over and over again? I tried to rewind my life. Then I realized that was the day I had lost my mom and checked into the orphanage. That had been the worst day of my life. As a consequence, I was living it over and over again. What had I done? Why was I put here? Why wasn’t I concerned at all about how I was going to get out of here? Then I knew why I wasn’t concerned at all. Because I knew there was no way an 84 year old woman could get out of a three-hundred year old cell bolted shut by over one-hundred metal bolts. And most of all, I didn’t care. I didn’t know why I didn’t care. I just didn’t.

When I woke up a tube or something had fallen off me. Where had it gone? There it was. I looked around one more time before I reattached it…

I woke up and walked over to my calendar, it said February, February13…

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

next >

< previous