Burst

"A bubble, for a short while, will be perfect. But it will always burst."

Chapter One

11:24 PM. One day, five hours, and thirty-three minutes. Two very different time displays shine through the darkness. The former indicates the advancement of time. The latter is showing time's different passage; its loss. This display screen, with its dark grays and deep electric blues, is strikingly obvious against the pale crook of my elbow, where it has been comfortably nestled since my birth. I can't see well in the dark, but I know what is printed on its bottom left corner. In careful red letters is the name of my city: ExCoPe4. If ExCoPe is meant to stand for Experimental Community for Perfection, why is it so flawed? And why were five of them, one in each of the top five most populated states, even necessary? Why has the experiment continued so long after the Collapse? But curiosity leads to discovery, which can often be unpleasant. Here, I must not wonder. I may only accept. And right now, that means to deal with the clock.

Once this clock reaches all zeros on my seventeenth birthday, I won't be considered one of the highly controlled children anymore. The city officials will consider me to be mature enough to handle the next phase of citizenship. But in a place where mature is synonymous with compliant, conformed, or empty-minded, is anyone really ready for what comes next? Marriage. Specifically, arranged marriage. That is the rite of passage here. I've dreaded it for as long as I can remember. But since the development of the five ExCoPe's eighty years ago, they've been more than tradition. They've been mandatory. But of course, this is the place where an innocent name is given to anything, no matter how horrible the concept. Tradition translated to law. And with the city's crime rates so low, bending traditions are considered to be the worst thing a person can do. Feeling sick with dread once again, I throw open the window. Warm, humid air spreads through the room. It thickens around me. Sweat prickles against my skin for a moment as I stare at the sky. On the other side of town is the official's building. I'll be there soon, finalizing my arrangement. I've only ever been there once…

"Oh, it isn't that bad, Tallis." Lillith smiles at me for a moment. "The matching, I mean. They just take the clock out, tell you who you're going to be stuck with, and, well, that's that."

I was waiting with my older sister for the paperwork of her newly assigned marriage to go through completely. She was seventeen, and just about to be assigned. Since she was still underage, she wouldn't be considered legally bound in marriage until the following year, on her eighteenth birthday. The extra year was just a custom to give the newly matched time to adjust to their new responsibility before moving out of the dorms for twelve through seventeen year olds and into a new apartment with their spouse. Unlike me, Lillith had looked forward to her matching process for as long as I can remember. One of my earliest memories had revolved around her excitement. She was seven, three years older than my four, and tried to cut her timer out with a pair of safely scissors. To this day, she still has a scar just visible underneath her freckles.

"Lillith Caverly," she muses, trying out her new last name. "I like it. It sounds a lot better that Lillith Marlowe. You're lucky, Tallis. Our last name- Well, I guess it's just your name now- Anyway, it sounds much better with your first name than mine."

Last names. "Is that what you're excited for most? A new name? Is that it? I don't know what I could ever like about this terrible law…" We stare at each other, both appalled by my first hint at rebellion

"No, Tallis! That's not it!" she shrieks, her dark eyes, so much like mine, turning stony and harsh. "And don't talk about the matching like that! It's done so much good for our community. Why can't you just appreciate this city? Nevermind, they're calling me."

And that was how my sister lost her identity to ExCoPe. I will be next. But just how long will I last before becoming just another bubbleheaded drone?

One day, five hours, and twenty-nine minutes. I can't bear to watch it tick down any lower. Not without getting out of here, at least. And I will take whatever means necessary.

The window is still open, and the night air is cooling off somewhat. Tossing a sweatshirt on over my tank top, just in case I'm out for a while, I get ready to go. Whether this is for real or not, I can't be sure until I get out there. It feels like it could be. I want it to be. I want to leave this place for good. But at the same time, part of me wishes I could be like everybody else. Content to stay here, appreciative of the fact that this community has given me what must have been a better life than I would have had anywhere else. The basis of the community was originally meant to be an experiment to find the key to a perfect live, after all. Sure, there are still a few minor annoyances. A controlled community couldn't heal my acne, for example. But compared to what the outside world was like, this place really is amazing. We have had technical advances that other places can only dream about, complete economic stability, and we aren't reliant on anybody else. Leaving this utopia? I must be crazier than I thought.

Slowly, I feel my way out of the window. My hands brace the upper portion of the window frame. I increase the strength that I use to hold myself in gradually, until my wrists are locked firmly in place. I kneel on the frame for a moment before pushing one leg out. Once my foot touches the rung of the emergency escape ladder, I pause, feeling for any quivering in my muscles. Nothing but tension indicating that I'm okay. The next foot slips out. I feel locked in by the largeness of my feet. I have always disliked them, thinking they were disproportionate to the rest of my otherwise petite body. But right now, I'm more grateful for them than I thought I'd ever be.

Almost there. In one swift motion, I twist my hips so that my body is balancing on the edge of the windowsill by just my stomach and now-slipping hands. I bring one of them down, gripping the top of the ladder. I can't fall now, right? I just need to keep going, and not look down. Then I'll be okay. Six steps left. I'm almost there. Five steps. My hands spring back, my knees straighten, and I propel myself down onto the sidewalk. Needless to say, I was preparing for a fairly graceful landing, not the actual result. My knee twists mid-jump, and I land with my right ankle pinned between my hip and the sidewalk. It immediately feels bruised. Maybe I should head back. I don't want to, of course, but with this… I don't know what's wrong, or how it could affect me once I'm out. I have no idea what I'll be facing, after all. But whatever is wrong with my foot- it can't be normal, after all- has to be better in one day, five hours, and now seventeen minutes. But that's plenty of time to ice it down a little bit, or something. I can try again in an hour or so.

I get back on the ladder, brushing off some of the gravel that is clinging to the palms of my hands. They sting in contact with the metal, but at least I know how to handle a couple of scrapes. As for my ankle, well… I can move it, but it is swelling. The faster I can get in, the better.

I pull myself up unto the second rung of the ladder. Where I'm going, I'm not sure. I can't go back into my assigned apartment, no matter now many rules that would break. I've left that life behind.

Sometimes, there's nowhere to go but up. Maybe that will clear my foggy head.I can see the whole city that way, and plan my escape route.

It's hard, but eventually I'm at the top of the ladder. There's a flat roof that I have never been on, or known was accessible. It seems to be mostly for utilities, not to casually visit. There's a system of water purifiers to my left, gated off and requiring a pass code to get nearer. To my right is one of our greenhouses. Between the water pumps gushing sounds and the thick smell of fertilizers, my sounds and smell are well covered. But someone else has been up here, I can tell. The atmosphere feels untouched, with its muggy Orlando air and clear half moon, but there are a few signs of human disturbance. A few books are scattered here and there. They aren't city books. Somehow, somebody has gotten their hands on the restricted outer world literature. The only ones who can have those are city officials, or specific workers assigned to finding the flaws in the world. Either way, if their owner finds me, I can be banished. Leaving is one thing, but expulsion brings humiliation along with it. And then it wouldn't be a choice. I will leave on my own terms. Crossing a corner, I slow my breathing. In, out. If they can't hear me, then maybe I can stay here unnoticed. And if I can't see them, they can't see me.

Breathe in, breathe out. Slow steps. Hide quickly.

A tall figure slides out a few yards in front of me, casting a narrow shadow across my body. I freeze. What's that old expression, used mostly in the outer city, where driving is allowed, and it applies? Deer in the headlights.

Brown crashes against green as a pair of excited, anxious eyes settle upon mine. The green's owner is too young to be part of our government. But then again, if I were the city council, I'd place people up here to catch potential runaways. Yes, he is roughly my age, but I wouldn't put it past the council to use children for this.

"Thinking of running away?" he asks with the faintest hint of a smile. The question is asked innocently enough, but it sends me over the edge.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. And you can't stop me. I don't care what you'll do, I will fight, and I won't stop, and- and-."

He puts up a hand to stop me. "I won't. I'd join you."

We stare at each other. He can't be serious. Who is crazy enough to agree to run away with someone they only just met? Whoever this is, and whatever his intentions, the whole idea of leaving together is insane. Does he really think I'll agree? Who does he think I am? But then again, it may be the best opportunity I have. I just don't know what to do.

"I'm Rigby," he says quickly, extending a hand out to me. "Rigby Kent."

"Tallis Marlowe." We grip each others hands awkwardly before he smiles at me.

"Well then, Miss Marlowe. I think we have a city to break out of."

"Don't call me that." I can't help but pull a disgusted face. "I hate formality. Let's just go. Come with me, if you're still in."

Wincing as my swollen ankle bears my full weight, I walk towards the ladder, hoping that my gruff manner will hide the fact that trusting people, or more specifically, being unable to, is my weakness. I will never claim otherwise.

Staring at the clock ticking down in my arm, I sigh. "It's now or never, isn't it? But here's the deal." I turn around and stretch myself up to full height. There are still at least ten inches between us. "This doesn't mean we suddenly become close friends, or anything. I'm not looking for that. I'm looking to get away from relationships, not start them. If something happens naturally, then so be it. But don't assume anything."

We continue to stare at each other for a while. I notice the time running out. At one day, four hours, and fifty- seven minutes, I plant both feet at the top of the ladder. They're surprisingly steady, leading me to think that there probably isn't much wrong with my ankle, besides the bruising and tenderness. Nothing's broken, at least. And before I know it, I'm at least five feet down. "You coming or not?"

Only moments apart, our feet touch down on the sidewalk away. This is it. Though we came into the same city we've always known, it somehow feels different.

"We really shouldn't be doing this." It's a weird coincidence, the way he just vocalized my thoughts.

"We have to, though," I say, maybe in a subconscious attempt to convince myself. But still, something stops me. My timer is still in. "You don't think they can trace us, do you?"

Rigby competemplates this for a moment. "I wouldn't put it past them..." He looks back at me after a moment. "Yeah, they probably can. Want to try getting it out? Mine already is, and there's got to be a reason they don't just leave them."

That means he is already in the matching system.

"Okay. How will we get mine out, though? They city won't remove it until all time reaches zero." It doesn't really matter. I've got to get it out, one way or another. But then it dawns on me... "Lilith..."

"Hhmm? What's that?"

"My sister," I explain. "She nearly got her's out one time. She cut around the rim, and it almost fell out. She got it put back in place, but it almost worked. We can try that, I guess. Honestly, I don't know why I didn't think to do so earlier."

Sprinting back inside as fast as my rapidly swelling ankle will allow, I soon come to the main office of our building. Somewhere in here are the files of information of all it's residents. No one is around to guard them. Is that the most freedom we are given? Unwatched flash drives that probably contain every tiny detail of our lives? And to add insult to injury, all of the filing cabinets and walls are painted in the exact same dark grays and electric blues as the timers.

"Here." Once again, Rigby has more or less materialized behind me. There's something a little spacey about the way he interacts with me so far. "Found something." He hands me a pair of scissors. I take a deep breath and snap the handles apart from one another. Hesitant, I position the tip right above the corner of the timer. All I need to do is press them down.

"Tallis." Rigby closes his hand around mine, stopping me from digging the point in. "I'll do this."

Nodding surprises me. "Okay. On three?"

"On three."

I take a deep breath as he counts down. The next thing I'm aware of is a combined pressure, stinging, and ripping sensation. It hurts more than I thought it would, to be honest. Gritting my teeth to prevent more than the initial gasp to come out, I look down. The tracker is popping out, and covered in my blood, which is leaking through the corners. I can't help but cry out.

"Almost done, Tallis. Just think of something else. I'm about halfway done."

"Okay," I whisper, feeling one last tug.

"Done! Okay, as soon as you stop bleeding, we can go."

Nodding, I wrap a few tissues around the spot and squeeze, allowing my fingers to explore the empty area. It's bleeding steadily, but not heavily. Nothing important seems to have been cut. The hole isn't too deep, and I can move all of my fingers."Thank you. For everything. It turned out..." Perfect. But I'm not as flippant with the word as others may be. I know that it's an illusion. "It's great. Thank you."

I look more closely at the back of the timer, the part that was concealed by my skin. Is this little piece of plastic and metal really the thing pushing me from the only home I've ever known? It can't be. I'm not the type to run from problems. This is the only time I haven't fought one head-on. How could I let one little object dictate the biggest choice of my life? The back of this little piece of metal isn't smooth as one would expect, but rather webbed with wires and slightly corroded, most likely from being inside of my body for so long. All but one of the tiny blue wires is detached from the main plate, leaving the minute slot still ticking. Holding my timer as it clicks from fifty minutes to forty nine feels surreal, eerie almost. But there is a wave of victory. I'm not watching helplessly as it changes inside of me. I am controlling it. For once, I am in charge of my own destiny. It feels wrong, like I am flirting with the destruction that our community has worked so hard to eliminate.

"I'm a rebel, aren't I?" Rebel. That very word has been forbidden, along with a long list of others. For so long, it was associated with horrible things, and terrible people. But it fits us both.

Rigby wipes the bloody residue from the handle of the scissors. Our eyes meet as he hands the handle out, and I take them, knowing what to do. "Break the chains of this life," he whispers. I nod, and gesture for him to place a hand over mine. Together, we cut the last connected wire. And just like that, out flickers my time.

The blue florescent number forty eight stays in my sight. It burns blue behind my closed eyelids. Rigby's hand, still curled around mine, starts shaking with the same adrenaline that is vibrating through my knees. "We've got to get out of here."

We run before we can even register who said it first. "We're looking at a city with a three kilometer radius." I nod, encouraging Rigby to babble on. "The city is a perfect circle. Adolescent training is in the center. The average person takes about three to five minutes to run one kilometer. One and a half to the outskirts of town will take eight to ten."

My legs are shorter by far, but I still manage to keep up. Somehow, we seem to take much shorter than anticipated. After almost seventeen of constantly watching a clock, not knowing exactly how long something took seems disorienting. Seven minutes, maybe? Or eight?

"There it is," I gasp, both out of breath and shocked. A chain link fence, about twenty feet high and wrapping around in all directions, is all that separates us from what seems to be the bustling outer city.

Our hands press against the fence, hard enough to leave the pattern of the chain link into both of our palms. This is it. This is really it.

I stare in awe at what we are about to venture into. I know I was wrong before. We have to stay friends. There is no way that we won't, not out in that unknown. It's vast newness... It's beautiful. It's terrifying.

Trees block what has to be the outer city. Squeezing each other's hands, we wait for our breathing to slow. In and out, into a uniform white noise, barely distinguishable from one another's. But as soon as the breathlessness is only from excitement, we go. Freedom has never been so tangible, so sweet, something I craved so much. Once again, that word pricks its way into my mind.

Rebel.