Illegals

Sci-fi story! Yeah, I wrote this for class. I don't feel like formatting it right now. Sorry. .__.

2027: The world’s population has nearly tripled. Scrambling for a solution, politicians look to China in the year 1970 and think it didn’t look quite so bad. So the one child policy was set around the world. Couples are allowed but one baby and any children after that are killed via a lethal injection. Though the plan seemed to be working as the population slowly steadied over the years, safe houses all over the world are set up to house illegal children.

Who knew it would come to this? Strapped to a chair and waiting to die. Of course, most illegals would expect this at some point. I guess maybe I thought that because I’d met Heidi, things would be okay. She wasn’t like me, so maybe she could change things. But she couldn’t. Nobody could change things for us.

It began with a jar of peanut butter. Living with a house of picky kids like the others and I did, it was essential that we always had it. I was the only one not doing anything at the time, so I was sent out to get it. Being as old as I was, I usually helped out anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal. I also really liked getting out of the house, even if it did mean wrappin’ up the ol’ chest and dressin’ like a boy.
Yeah… that probably needs an explanation.
Thanks to the whole “one child policy,” girls are pretty few and far between. I mean, they’re still all over the place, but there are just more boys. Once couples could only have the one kid, a lot of people decided that they’d rather have a boy. This, of course, made blending in as a girl a lot harder, so most of us illegal girls dressed like guys. I was one of the luckier ones because I actually kind of looked like a boy with my short messy do.
The grocery store wasn’t too far away from the shack where we lived, but I had to walk a long ways and then circle back to make it look like I lived further away. It was part of my cover story as the son of an elderly couple. I even had an alias: Kyle, as opposed to my actual name Katelyn. (None of us are very creative.) It sort of explained why I showed up only once in awhile and people accepted it. Town was pretty much the same as the adults described the forty years ago; 2 story buildings, sliding doors. It didn’t seem all that fantastic to me, yet the people on the wrist TVs I saw in town kept ranting about how far we’d come.
I’d gotten the peanut butter and was checking out when I ran into Heidi. She was deep in the thought and wandered into line ahead of me. Normally, I guess a person might just tap her on the shoulder and ask her to move to the back, but… I wasn’t exactly the best at containing my temper.
“Hey!” I yelled at her. “What do you think you’re doing?”
She jumped. It made me more upset, despite already knowing she wasn’t paying attention. I had a lot of anger and it needed some redirection; I couldn’t take it out the kids or the adults, so this girl had to pay the price. Her features were instantly painted with regret and apologies.
“Sorry, sorry!” she squealed, backpedaling. “I was just so lost in thought, and… and… I’m sorry!” Her demeanor was that of a kid back home that I really liked. He was really spacey and would end up apologizing profusely if he wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying or ran into you. My attitude toward this chubby girl softened and my face must have followed suit because then she relaxed. She smiled at me sheepishly.
“I really am sorry,” she told me, her face a little pink. “Can I get you lunch to make it up to you?”
The gesture surprised me, but I’d been taught to never decline free food.
“Uh, sure, just lemme get this,” I said, holding up the peanut butter. She grinned and stepped out of my way. While I was checking out, she ran back to the shelves and was putting all of her items back. It weirded me out even more, but whatever—she was buying me food!
We introduced ourselves as we walked. The two of us ended up at a little street café with the menus in the tables. You simply typed in what you wanted and the order was sent to the kitchen. I’d seen them while walking around, but never actually used one before. Heidi seemed to pick up on this because she kept giggling when I got excited over typing out a couple different orders before I finally sent one back.
“Never been to one of these, huh?” she asked.
“Uh… no,” I replied. “My parents and I don’t eat out much. They’d rather just stay home.”
“You live with your parents?”
“Yeah. They’re old and have issues doing stuff, so… I help.”
It kind of was the truth—the adults were like my parents. And most of them were pretty old by now. Some could even remember when cell phones first came out. I’d never had one of my own, but it was still mindboggling that they could be so old.
“Aw, that’s so sweet!” she said, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. She seemed really nervous and I wasn’t sure why. Maybe she wasn’t around people much, just talking—I knew that was why I was so nervous. I was always busy and never had time to talk just for the sake of talking. But here was an opportunity! And I couldn’t think of what to say. I wanted to blab about everything I’d gone through, but if I did, she might tell or someone else might hear. And then I’d send a bunch of kids to their death.
I shuddered at the thought. Heidi noticed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, concern written all over her face.
“Uuuuuuuuuuh,” I drawled, unsure if I should tell the truth. I should’ve just spit out another lie, but I didn’t want to. That was what I was supposed to do, and suddenly, I didn’t want to. I looked around, trying to find some answer. A park was across the street. Completely abandoned, I felt bad for it. And I wanted to take Heidi over there.
Just as I thought this, the food appeared. I looked down at it, then up at Heidi. She’d bought me food and I just wanted to leave. I picked at the sandwich I’d ordered and Heidi dug into her pizza. She got sauce all over her face but didn’t seem to care. It was then that I really looked at her and noticed the strange black spots. I mean, I’d seen them before but I thought they were just freckles. But they were blotchier and much darker than a blonde like Heidi should have had. So I asked her about them.
“Oh, these?” she asked, pointing to her face. “They’re tattoos. See, everybody used to call me ‘Dalmatian’—y’know, like the dog?—because I had all these freckles and so, a little while ago, I decided to get actual spots!” Her happy explanation became a pout. “I wanna get ears and a tail, too, but my parents are making me pay for it. So I’ve only got the spots for now.”
My eyes were wide. “Ears? Tail? Like… like a dog?”
She nodded, treating it like it was totally normal. “Yup. Plastic surgery isn’t as expensive as it used to be, but it isn’t just a nose tweak that I want, so it’s way more.”
She talked and I just sat and looked at her. I was lost in disbelief. Heidi spoke of it like it was no big deal. Was it? How could looking like a dog really be no big deal? She looked at me funny, like I was the weird one. Maybe I was.
“So, uh…” Heidi seemed lost for words now. Her anxiety was obviously back and she fidgeted.
I set the sandwich back down and looked over at the park again. I wanted to go there.
“Wanna go to the park?” I asked, not looking at her. I was suddenly as nervous about all this as she was. I wasn’t sure why she was, but I was definitely nervous about confiding all my secrets in one person. Or, really, confiding in anyone at all.
There was a sound of something else being sent to the table. I looked over and saw two little boxes made of some really degradable material that I wasn’t sure of. Heidi held one out to me.
“We could finish lunch over there,” she suggested, shrugging. I took the box and smiled.
“Cool.”

Once we were over there, I wasn’t sure that I could do it. We were sitting there contently, munching on our food. Why spoil it with nasty news like being an illegal kid? She didn’t need to know about that. And I certainly didn’t need to tell her.
Yet… I did. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt like I’d explode if I didn’t tell her.
“Heidi, I gotta tell you something,” I started, setting the remnants of my sandwich in the box on my lap. “I know we just met, but… I just gotta.”
She perked up and looked sort of excited for a moment before she seemed to catch herself. I didn’t understand why, but then, I didn’t really understand much at all about her.
“Y’see…well…” I lowered my voice, carefully watching for nosy listeners. “I’m… I’m an illegal.”
The words were out. And Heidi said nothing. She looked surprised---apparently she’d been expecting something completely different. I didn’t know what, but I didn’t blame her. Who would expect someone they’d just met to tell them that they were never meant to be born?
“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” I explained, “I just had to tell somebody. I guess. It’s been too long.” I set the box aside and leaned over, resting my head in my hands. She probably didn’t understand what I meant by that. I mean, I hardly understood what I meant.
Surprisingly, though, she reached over and hugged me. It was kind of awkward, considering she was so much shorter than me and I was all hunched over, but still nice. I looked over at her and saw her face was all red.
“I’m… I’m glad you told me, Kyle,” she said. “And I’m glad you were born.”
With that, everything clicked. Her nervousness, the buying me lunch. I should’ve set her straight, but I was tired. It wasn’t like I’d ever see her again, anyway.

Someone enters my room. (Or, I guess, the room I’m borrowing for the time being.) It opens and I see a nice looking lady standing there. She seems so out of place here. I wonder if she’s got her own kids—kid, I correct myself—at home. Maybe she feels guilty about what she does because of them. I hope so. Because, then, I won’t die in vain.
The woman comes over and checks my vitals with a small device in her hand. She holds it over my bullet wound and smiles.
“All okay,” she tells me.
“Great,” I reply, my voice cracking. “Then I’ll die healthy.”
Her smile disappears and she quickly leaves the room.

Of course, I met with Heidi again. It was inevitable—more peanut butter, or maybe powdered milk. (A lack of electricity leads to a lack of refrigeration, which means no real milk.) But whatever the reason, we met in the park again, same bench as before. The tension was just as great as I remembered—her wanting to be close to me for reasons that I needed to set straight. But I still didn’t want to. What if her crush was all that kept her from telling? If that were true, than my telling her the truth would ruin everything. I could pretend to be Kyle with her. I’d pretended to be him with everyone else.
“So, what’s it like?” she asked, straightening her floral dress. Even though she never seemed nearly as girly as any girl I’d ever met, she still insisted on always wearing dresses. “Being an illegal, I mean.”
I shrugged. “I dunno. It’s just… life, I guess. You hide, you steal sometimes. Usually only if you need to.” I cringe a little. “It’s really, really loud, though, if you’ve just gotten a lot of babies.”
She laughed at this and I wasn’t entirely sure that was the response I wanted. But what should I care? Someone was listening and I didn’t think she was going to turn me in. I ignored the mean feelings that rose up in me and half-heartedly laughed with her. She didn’t notice, though, which was both a good and bad quality with Heidi.
“I wish my life was so exciting,” she replied, her eyes glazed over as she probably daydreamed. She was romanticizing the whole thing, I just knew it. “I just have to go to stupid cooking class.”
As if on a cue, her tiny little phone started to buzz in her pocket. She took it out and groaned; I knew what that meant. She’d go, I’d get my gross dry milk and we’d leave each other until the next time the shack ran low on something.
But, instead of leaving, Heidi hit ignore and sat where she was. I didn’t say anything and neither did she.
“I don’t like to cook at all,” she told me after a long while. “I just do it because my parents tell me I’m supposed to. Girls used to be able to be smart, y’know, be engineers and stuff. But now? Now we’re just supposed to cook and clean and be good little mommies to our one kid.” She stared off into space and I just looked at her. Maybe life wasn’t so great for Heidi after all.
“What do you like to do, then?” I asked. “What makes Heidi smile?”
Me, apparently, because she broke into a little grin.
“Computer stuff, mostly,” she replied. “I’m pretty good at hacking into stuff. I haven’t tried anything too big yet, but I’ve changed my grade in cooking class more than once.”
We both laughed at that. Things were easy, much easier than before. Maybe because both of us realized that we might not be so different after all.

We didn’t meet up again for another couple of weeks. I couldn’t find an excuse to get out of the house because one of our really, really old people had died. That meant I had to pick up the slack and go bury her because everyone else either couldn’t handle it or they were too old.
The body I was burying was that of Sara Goode. She hadn’t been quite as old as I thought, I guess, but her silver hair had told me wrong. She looked peaceful now, which was certainly different than she’d ever been alive. Sara was always stressed looking and yelled a lot. She was also the one that had started this all. She was the one that had taken me in when I was a baby. I thought maybe she was where I got my temper and determination from.
I dug the hole quietly and quickly. Carefully, I placed Sara’s body, wrapped tightly in a blanket, into the hole. I refilled the hole and stood there afterwards, just looking at the pile.
“Bye, Sara,” I said, picking up the shovel and heading home.

A few days later I finally got out to see her. Heidi was waiting on the bench, looking nervous and excited. I wondered if she had something “romantic” planned. I really hoped not. There was enough bad feelings in me right now; I just wanted to relax with her, not worry about sending the wrong message.
“Kyle!” she cried as I got closer. “C’mere! I made something!”
I sat beside her and she held out a little green bud. I thought it was a big seed or something at first, but when Heidi handed it to me, I realized it was metal. A tiny little metal seed.
“I want you to have it,” she told me.
I turned it over in my fingers, examining the surface.
“Uh…what is it?” I asked, trying my best to be nice. I knew kids got really upset if you asked what their drawings were supposed to be—were sixteen year olds like that, too?
“It’s a recording device,” she said. “Just put it in your ear and it’ll record anything. I tested it a billion times at home.”
“It records from my ear?” I asked, looking at her. “Why not from my mouth or something? Wouldn’t that be better?”
She shook her head. “It connects with the brain. See, that way you can record without anyone knowing.”
I was so confused. How could something so small do that? Was it even possible? I never had gone to school (for obvious reasons) so I only learned from what I heard in town or from the adults. How could Heidi even make something like this? I asked her.
“It’s all really, really complicated. Just lemme show you.”
She pulled a small laptop out of her purse and opened it on her lap. While it booted up, she took the little green device and touched a few spots. It lit up a little, then went dark again. She handed it back to me.
“Put it in your ear and think ‘connect.’ Think it until I tell you to stop.”
I nodded, doing as she told me. I thought the word over and over again, waiting for her to tell me to stop.
“There!” she cried. “Stop. It’s connected. Now, just think. Think about stuff. Anything.
I froze, unsure of what to think about. What did I want Heidi to see? I started to think about Sara, though, without even trying. How she took me in. Named me and took care of me for twenty-odd years. And how she was gone. Just… gone.
I thought about Sara for about ten minutes before Heidi stopped me. I looked at her, surprised.
“What?” I asked. “Isn’t it working?”
“It’s working fine,” Heidi told me, not looking at me, “it’s working just fine, Katelyn.”
I jumped. She’d used my real name! Was that in there? I’d accidentally spilled the beans. I tried to relax, but couldn’t help but chew on my bottom lip. Was she upset? It seemed like she was. She wasn’t talking and wouldn’t look at me. I sat quietly, waiting it out. It usually worked with angry kids at home and had worked with me in the past.
“I’m not mad,” she said eventually. “Not really. I just wish you would’ve told me you were a girl.”
I shrugged. “Sorry… it’s just safer to be a boy. They’re all over the place, aren’t they?”
“I guess they are,” she agreed. Heidi turned the laptop off. “If you ever want to connect and write something, just think ‘connect.’ My laptop will automatically boot up and record it all. It doesn’t even have to be in complete sentences.”
She was quiet again.
“I’m sorry about Sara,” she told me.
“Me, too,” I replied.

The raid was unexpected. I didn’t even know I’d spilled the beans for everybody until the gunshots started. That sound threw everyone into action—kids started running every which way. We’d all been taught since we’d gotten here where to run if we had to leave. It was the first thing a kid learned, even before they were reading. Survival was always more important to us than reading.
I didn’t get as far as I thought I would. Just a few feet from the shack they shot me down; it was a shot to the leg. Not deadly, but it hurt a whole lot. The kids that were further away weren’t so lucky: Most that were shot didn’t get back up. Others went down and moaned. I knew they wouldn’t be picked up, though. They’d be left as a warning.
A man dressed in black with his face covered came up to me and put something over my nose and mouth. It smelled sweet. A moment later, I was out.

Which brings us to the end. I sit now in a room with white walls, my arms and legs strapped down tight. The room is empty besides me and my chair, a little security camera in the corner, and a clock that ticks down the hours. I’ve been here at least two, I think. I think it’s odd that they use an analog clock (or at least that’s what I think they were called). Maybe it’s because they stretch the hours out so much more appropriately than a digital clock. I think it’s kind of nice and makes me feel more okay about the whole thing. It reminds me of home.
We had an analog clock when I was younger; somebody had saved it, I guess. I used to sit and watch the second hand. I found them so much more interesting than the angry red digital clocks. Eventually, though, it broke and we couldn’t get it fixed. Not only did no one even do that anymore, who else would have an analog but a bunch of illegals?
The lady comes back, a shot in her hand.
I watch the security camera. I hope I’m starting right into the eyes of the fat slob watching me. Do you feel guilty yet? I ask them. Do you wish you could change this?
This is it. Heidi, I hope you have this. I hope the little green metal seed actually works and that your laptop’s gotten this all.
The security camera wiggles slowly, side to side. Then, it goes faster. It wags. Wags like a dog’s tail. Like… like a dalmatian.
I break into a wide grin and the woman jumps. The people she deals with probably don’t smile much, so I’m not surprised. But I’m happy. So happy. She puts the needle into my arm and instantly I feel myself drifting. Wow, we were making advances. In a few minutes—maybe even thirty seconds!—I’ll be dead. So efficient.
I don’t know if the camera has audio or not, but I know Heidi’s little device will get it anyway.
“Bye, Heidi,” I say to the camera.
And then… dead.

Heidi Burton had hacked into the video system of the Executionary and fed the video from Katelyn’s room to every wrist television and phone and computer she could find. Millions upon millions of people saw and heard Katelyn’s goodbye. Heidi also published Katelyn’s story all over the internet. Every time it was taken up, it sprung up in a new place. Soon, others started to spread her story, too. There was nothing the governmennts of the world could do to stop the wildfire.
Due to public uproar, the one child policy is now under review.