The Masks That We Wear ~Chapter One

Hello! Just a quick few words. One, I have already posted this somewhere on here, however I have forgotten my username and so wish to start anew! Secondly, I am also posting this on Fictionpress, by the username RainbowOctopus. Hope you enjoy!

We met at the first rays of sunlight, sprawling over the rolling hills of swaying grass and summer blossoms. It seemed as though the boughs of the tree opened up to the tinted rays, absorbing its warmth with eagerness. I sat down on the soft grass, its fresh perfume wafting up to tickle my nose as a cool breeze shifted my sundress and the new found warmth brought on by the sun.
A smile shifted onto my face, mind serene and at peace. To greet the sun’s first rays is worth getting up earlier than the birds, who now sung their sweet songs. Yet it wasn’t just getting up at the crack of dawn that made this a challenging outing. Still, my heart hammered against my chest from the bike ride through the tunnels, and had I heard footsteps behind me? The very thought set my mind on edge. If ever my antics were discovered, a price would surely be paid.
As the sun’s rays climbed ever higher into the azure sky, I pulled a scientific encyclopedia from my school bag. Yet it was far lighter than your average 600 page encyclopedia. With a secretive smile, I pried it open to greet the hollow space in the center, filled with blank and scribbled on pages, pencil and erasers taped to the sides. One of the many hollowed out nooks to accommodate my beloved collection.
Never had I set my pencil to sketch the dawn that now stretched upon the endless seas of grassy hills, and now was a ripe time to try. Lines seemed to flit across the blank page, bringing depth and shadows to what were once average shapes. My eyes were fixated on the rising sun as my hand moved gracefully, a mind of its own.
Yet during my trance like state, I noticed a dark shape moving across the fields. It stopped for a moment, bending down to observe the wildflowers painted purple and red. My heart skipped a beat and began to thump wildly against my ribs and the fear of being followed seemed to become all too real. Swiftly, I packed up my sketches and bag, and hurriedly hid my bicycle behind a small copse of trees a few meters behind. The figure had wandered even closer now, and I could make out the angled shape of a young man. The government recruit men at ripe ages, I had heard.
Biting my lip fervently, my eyes flitted about my surroundings; it was far too late to run now. My only hope was to unearth myself a place to hide. Grabbing onto the lowest branches of the tree, I swung up and balanced on the strong boughs, beginning to climb my way up into the security of the leaves like a squirrel. Hopefully, the man had not been looking in this direction when I had scrambled my way up to safety.
He wandered ever closer, until I could even make out the colour of his eyes, blazing bright in his narrow, yet well-defined face. Yet he did not acknowledge my presence, if he knew of it or not. Instead, the man, or should I say, young man, sat down with his back to the tree as I had before. For a long while we sat there in silence as I watched his every move from above, like a hawk watching its prey. Finally, his tense body sank into the trunk of the tree, and he let out a relaxed sigh. However, I could in no way, relax. Was this man an agent of the government or not? Whose side was he on?
It wasn’t long before my question was answered.
It started as a low rumble in his throat, almost as though he was humming to himself. Perched patiently in the swaying branches of the tree, I listened as that humming blossomed into a song. My ears revelled in the sound of his music, sweet as the birds, yet filled with a deep melancholy that the fluttering creatures could never comprehend. How did he learn to sing? Where?
Unlike those questions, my first had been answered. Obviously, he was not an agent of the government. No, he was one of the few who stood in its way. There were a couple of them hidden in the sprawling city of processed minds, although the exact amount was unknown. Silently, they operated behind closed doors, expressing deep emotion through melody, dance, and the blank page. Sometimes I liked to think myself as one of them, yet sketches of landscapes could hardly amount to the larger scale fabrications of the others. But sometimes even I surprised myself.
So, he wasn’t an enemy, I knew that for a fact, but how would he react if I suddenly landed beside him like a leaf falling from a tree. Surely, his first instinct would be to panic like a cornered beast. Of course, he would be on edge from having to escape the cities walls and would understand the threat of being here.
As the summer heat, seldom felt in the air-conditioned dome of Lendonius Nouvella, closed around us like a woolen scarf, the boy took off his grey newsboy cap, unleashing short dirty blonde waves to fall across his forehead. It was only until then that I realized that his song had ended. So had the arising dawn, which now began to settle into midday as the sun climbed steadily towards its apex.
With a forlorn sigh, the young man stood up, brushed off his uniform and began to make his way back down the hill, towards the shining silver dome that signified the city’s distinguished presence. I watched him go, regretting my choice to stay in the comforts of the shielding leaves.
And as I watched him go, a flash of red cloth unearthed itself briefly from underneath his uniform white dress shirt. My eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, were the rumors true? Or was it just a trick of the light?
My head swarming with thoughts and wonderings, I climbed down back onto the earth, relieved to feel structure underneath my toes once again. Pedaling back to the crack in Lendonius Nouvella’s walls, I only hoped that someone had a bit of individual thought to agree with me.