I watched locks of my caramel-coloured hair fall onto the ground as I let my father cut my hair. I can't let my hair get too long, or else I might get a warning from one of the officials.
My name is Kyra Martinez, daughter of Mr. Charleston Martinez. My dad, the only one other than me in my family that's alive, is known for being our Leader. He officially rules all of North America.
I resent my father, as he has also killed millions, literally millions of people that didn't deserve to die. They never did anything wrong. They were killed because, in my father's twisted mind, they were "unfit to live". The truth is, all those people were autistic...mentally disabled...you name it. He wants the world to become a perfect utopia, while the world will never will. My father think's he's perfect, while he might be the complete opposite of perfection. He's the most miserable excuse of a human on earth. "Ah… You're perfect, Kyra. Just like those toy-dolls I design."
The sound of his compliment made me want to puke.
"I am not your toy." I spat. He smiled at me, his shining, white teeth gleamed at me. I want to knock all of those perfect teeth right out of his mouth.
My father tied up my hair into a perfect ponytail. Since my hair was only shoulder-length now, it wasn't really a big ponytail, but it was something.
"Okay, little Kyra. You can go back to your room now, and dress."
Since there's no use fighting him, I walk to my room obediently.
I walk on over to my wardrobe, dressing myself in a gray short-sleeved shirt under a white buttoned sweater. I put on a knee-length gray skirt, and my white heels. "The picture of sophistication," my father always described my plainclothes. "More like the picture of boredom." I always replied. I look at myself in the mirror. When will this ever end? I asked myself.
I heard a knock at my bedroom door. "Kyra, are you done dressing yet?" my father asked me.
"Yes, father." He came into my room. He smiled at me, while I glared at him. "Oh, sweetie...when will you ever smile? You're beautiful, Kyra. Now that you're done dressing, come on. Let's go."
My father walked me out of the house and into the car. "Where are we going?" I asked him.
"You're going to get your job assigned."
My..My job? Oh, yeah...Today's supposed to be my 27th birthday….so today I'm getting a job.
Finally, I'll be able to care for myself. As soon as I get paid in my job...I'll buy my own house and move out of the hell that my father calls our "home".
When we arrive to the T, a building in the middle of Portland where all the Officials (Our Police) control us. We walk on over to the Job Assignment part of the building.
"Oh Kyra...You're getting so grown up!"
"Shut up." I scoffed.
As soon as I entered, I was chauffeured by an official in his 30's to a stool and a computer. He made me sit on the stool, and then he put an IV into me. It hurt.
"What the fuck?!" I yelled at the Official.
"Calm down, Kyra, or I'll have you reprimanded for foul language. I have to take a sample of your blood to determine which job would fit you best." the Official told me.
Once he got some of my blood, he put it into what I thought was the disc drive, and I watched the screen.
"Welcome, Kyra. Your results have come in, and it has been determined you will become a surgeon at Resurgam First Care."
Resurgam… when I was a kid, and when things were different… I used to go there and chat with all the nurses. They loved me.
Now I'll be a part of the only place in the world I cherished.
Maybe life isn't so bad after all…
TO BE CONTINUED IN BLOOD MOON 2...