Chapter 3:
The man in white looked up at Arthur, who went numb from fear, sorrow, and shock at what had just happened. Then, casually, like this happened every day, the CIE member slung Alfred's body of his shoulder, and walked away.
Arthur had walked home, as emotionless as possible, then as soon as he got home, he ran to his room, collapsed on his bed, and cried.
No one had noticed his grief, for he took extra doses of the medication to prevent anyone from finding out about his mourning for the loss of his loved one. Then, everyday, instead of going to the e-library, or Alfred's house, which was how he usually spent his summer vacation, he would stay, locked up in his room on his bed, staring emotionlessly at the ceiling.
When Arthur finally decided to come out of his room, he was a complete wreck. His hair, which he usually combs to perfection to match the chosen city hairstyle, had become untidy, and a slightly darker color of blond. His eyes were slightly blood-shot and he had bags under them, for he had spent many a night without sleep, and there was the fact that he cried constantly when he wasn't on the medication. His cloths were dusty, and had become a bit more loose then perhaps three weeks ago; his eating habits had taken a beating, and Arthur had hardly touched a morsel of food unless he was starving, because he felt that Alfred wouldn't want him to starve.
He went downstairs, and that's when his parents stopped him.
"Arthur, how long have you been in your room?" His mother asked.
Arthur faltered. "Um... T-three days?" He hadn't taken his medication yet, so lying wasn't a problem.
His dad sighed. "Well, we've been meaning to talk to you, because need to do something this summer other then go to the library and hang out with your friend Alfred."
Arthur throat went dry. Alfred was dead, didn't his father know that?!
"L-like what?" He asked, his voice shaking slightly.
"A job," his dad stated, in a matter-of-fact sort of way. "You can get a job at the lab, they're looking for assistants. They're apparently hard to get now a days..."
His father trailed off, a glazed look coming across his face. Then, without warning, he started talking again, scaring the bejesus out of Arthur.
"You start tomorrow."
Then his mother and father stood up, his father grabbing a coat and hat, shoving both on, then leaving for work, while his mother busied herself around the house, making breakfast: buttered toast with an option of jam, poached eggs, and green-tea.
Arthur ate slowly, wondering sadly, if Alfred would be eating something the lines of donuts or pancakes that morning, deciding what he would do that day. Arthur sighed sadly, a solitary tear running down his cheek, then, he took out his medication bottle, and pulled out two deep blue pills, but then thought better of it and shook out another one, making it three. He popped them in his mouth and washed it down with his green tea, and sighed mentally and the soothing sensation of nothingness sent his emotions spiraling down a deep, dark, hole.
He spent the rest of the day wondering about the city, running errands for his mother, and admiring the new building being put up. He stopped at one of the work cites, noting that the frame had already been put assembled, advertising that the building would soon be a skyscraper. Of what color, though, Arthur did not know. He hoped it would be a deep blue, pearl white, and/or a crimson red, though Arthur had a feeling that it would be a dull, grey-white. All buildings were like that. Alfred loved color and architecture, and Arthur could almost, almost, imagine Alfred beside him, holding his hand and cracking up at one of his own lame jokes that nobody but Arthur got, or complaint about how little the architects use color.
Arthur put his head down, and continued on down the sidewalk, his thoughts drifting, all the way home.
The next day arrived, and Arthur was waken at the most ungodly hour of 4:30am. His father was shaking him awake, and whispering, monotone as ever, like the voice came from more like a robot, not a human.
"Wake... Up... Arthur."
Arthur blinked, looking up, the voice chilling him to the bone. His father stopped shaking him, and simply held up the usual everyday clothing, which was more like a uniform, a white long-sleeve with a brownish-green vest, and brown pants. Everyone wore the outfit, and as ugly as Arthur thought they were, he had to wear them. At least everybody (even the girls) wore the same thing...
Slouching out of bed, Arthur stretched silently before shrugging on his attire, and had just finished buttoning his vest when his father, suddenly gasping for air, grabbed Arthur's shoulders, nearly making the poor boy topple to the floor.
"Arthur..." He rasped, breath coming in short gasps. "Listen to me- they are here to get you-" more gasping for air. "Get away, out... Of the house... Anywhere but where the government can find you- don't take the medication!"
Then his father gulped in a final breath, then stood up, straightened his vest, and smiled down at his son, who was shaking like a leaf.
"Well now Arthur, they are waiting for you outside, shall we?"