By: Pineapple Blueberry

“A house of ivory, with windows of crystal. Hidden under the steps; a door. A door to the treasure. A door to the secret. A door to the truth.”

My father’s last words echo through my head as I pace through the barren land. He died last month. On his death bed he said those words. After he died, the government threw his body off the spaceship. The government is a mystery to me, and to everyone. They gave us numbers for identification. No names. But my father gave me one anyway. My name is Atticus. My father said that it is a powerful, and honorable name. He taught me to live up to that name. The citizens of The Society came from a forbidden land, a land that was full of violence and bloodshed. So they left on a spaceship; the S.S. Trump. No one gets the name though. The S.S. Trump has been floating in space for almost thirty years. My father left the forbidden land at age ten. At that time it was 2016. As I step on the street, I step on that forbidden land. My father wanted me to come here. My father needed me to come here, to find the ivory house and the crystal windows.

Two birds roam through the field, making, loud obnoxious noises. They are bright red, a color that the Society told us was never to be used. The only words the citizens are allowed to use are what they consider “pure” words. The only thing anyone can think or talk about are “pure” things. But anything interesting is anything but “pure”. I asked my father his definition of “pure”, he would always respond the same way.

“Son, everything you are taught, everything that surrounds you, everything you know, none of it is “pure”.”

I look at the two birds and realize that these are the only other life forms that I have seen, except humans. The thought sinks in. I smile. The forbidden land has always seemed daunting, and alarming. But now as I stand here, I realize that there is peace, and serenity here. Suddenly, one of the birds turns toward me. His beady eyes bore into mine as I quickly turn away. The Society tells us to never look in someone’s eyes. When people’s eyes meet, you can look into their soul. You know about their history and their life. The Society always warns us of the perils of eye contact. And everyone knows, you never disobey The Society.

The last house on the street I am walking on looks vaguely familiar. I’ve never been to this land, but it still looks familiar. The color of the house is distinctive. Its a creamy white shade, with an antiquey look. The ivory house has alluring, shining windows; crystal windows. This is it. I open the beautiful ivory door. The old hinges make an eerie sound. The wooden floors creak and echo as I guardedly enter the house. An elegant wooden staircase lies on the back wall. Craning my head, I look up the stairs, but I only see darkness. The stairs are made with rectangular pieces of wood. One of them had to lead to the door. I started picking, and pushing on all of them. Until I had gone to every last board did I realize that my father’s departing words were only the slurred speach of a dying man. I sit down defeated and depressed. With much agony I slam one of the boards. The entire stair wall collapses.

Before me millions of people’s blank eyes stare up at me. I try to avoid them, but it is inevitable. I look into the eyes of a little girl.

I hear crying at first, and then I see her life. I see her being a maid and working when she was just an infant. I see her getting beaten and crying. I see her watch people die. I see her almost die herself. I see every small depressing detail of her life, and I see it all from her eyes.

Then, I look into the eyes of an old man next to her. I see his life too. I see the violence of the forbidden land. I see him getting put into concentration camps to work. I see him getting beaten, and hurt. All the people of color got herded into camps. The Society was in the middle of all of it.

The vast sea of helpless, beaten people only made all this worse. Questions filled my head. Who are all these people? What did the Society do? What do I do?