Chapter
1 – Sobering Up
My life is simple, boring, and one
that people would die to have. Since my family is rich and the marketing company
that we run doesn’t need my input, I don’t need to work and can just sit back
and enjoy its profits despite being the head of the company ever since my
parents entered retirement. Despite that, I still do as much work as possible.
From eight to four or nine to five, I get involved with the employees and
leaders of the company, see what they need, and help where I can through emails
and meetings. Sure, talking to people all day may not seem like work, but it’s really
all I can do because of all the other managers and leaders doing most of the work.
My family, the Weaver family, is one of the most influential marketing companies
not just in America but the world. On the outside, we are a simple marketing
company that helps corporations sell their products and keep an appealing
public image, however, we also help political parties as well.
Behind closed doors, we instruct
both major corporations and political parties how to act, when to fight, and
when to come together so that the American public will follow the story we are
telling and act accordingly in the country’s best interest. Our history goes
all the way back to Great Britain as we were once a royal family that moved to
America during its founding and have been influential in its shaping ever since.
I have to do something since I’m in charge of a company this important. Every now
and then I look at my family’s sword that’s been ours for untold generations to
remind myself of my family’s long important legacy. It’s kept in a glass case alongside
its scabbard. My uncle Arthur who is also a cybernetic mechanic and gunsmith checks
on it every now and then and has shown me that the sword is sharp enough to cut
through metal, which is amazingly cool, to say the least.
Even so, I indulge in the pleasures
and perks of my wealth. Around eight every day I go out drinking and partying with
Janis, a forty-five-year-old who is a friend of the family that acts more like
a woman in her twenties who is trying to enjoy her life to the fullest. After
the party, we…enjoy each other’s company to say the least before I head off to
see Lorraine, a fifty-year-old woman who is another friend of the family, to do
the same things with until three in the morning though this woman is different
because she focuses on her business more than the previous woman who hardly
works. This cycle of working and pleasures has been my life ever since I was
sixteen with little variation in it. As a man at twenty-four years of age, it’s
grown incredibly dull to me.
I’ve been told to travel more, indulge
in more extravagant pleasures, and see more women or try being with men,
however, I don’t think this would help. Besides, I’m not into children or men
like the other influencers and rich men. No, I need something more. As I look
out at the city with flying cars flying by here and there, I think of what I should
do. The first thing that comes to my mind is marrying a woman. My parents have
been wanting me to. Who should I pick? There are only two options in my mind,
which are the women that I frequently see.
After thinking it over and picking out a ring from my drawers full of expensive jewelry, I pick Lorraine
since she is unmarried. Janis is married and cheats on her husband with many
men and women. Maybe I guess I should say that she’s in an open relationship
like the many other rich men and women I know, but that doesn’t matter right
now. I go through the motions of my normal day with marriage on my mind and the
hopes of my life-changing and starting to have real meaning to it. During the
party at Janis’ place, I hardly drink and talk to her. With Lorraine on my
mind, I can’t cheat on her before entering a relationship, which is what I’m
supposed to do I think despite already seeing Janis on an almost daily basis.
Nevertheless, I exit the party without spending any extended time with Janis
who notices this and stops me before leaving.
“Alabaster, you’re not going to
stay for our usual after-party pleasantries?” Janis says while running her hand
down my chest.
“No, not today,” I say before
taking her hand off my chest and walking past her.
To my surprise, Janis doesn’t come
after me probably because she has other people who can satisfy her when I can’t.
When I go to Lorraine’s, I wait until we’re alone and away from the party to
propose to her.
Getting on one knee, I say, “Lorraine,
will you marry me?”
She’s awestruck and puts her hands
on her mouth.
“I, uh, I…” she fumbles over her words,
“Where did this come from? Why do you want me to marry you?”
“I want a major change in my life
to give it meaning and I thought this would be the best choice. So, will you?”
“I, uh…You’re sweet for proposing
to me and I appreciate the offer, but no, I can’t marry you.”
“Oh,” I say as I pick myself up and
put the ring away.
“We can still-”
“No, not today.”
I quickly leave the party, go back
home, and crash on my bed. When I wake up the next day, it feels as if
yesterday was a bad dream that was a result of all the drinking and partying I did
until I notice something in my pocket and pull out the ring. Now I wish I had never
reached into my pocket and stayed ignorant about last night. Going back to my
view of the city, I try to think about what to do next. Seeing the flying cars
go by every now and then reminds me of the inequality in America and the widening
gap between the rich and poor and how those who want to be prosperous in life
have to believe in the values and beliefs of the current time or risk falling
into obscurity, not being taken seriously, or facing discrimination. I’ve been
told that certain beliefs are not accepted and shunned because they would hurt the
country and people’s freedoms, but given how the accepted beliefs do the same,
I’m beginning to think that what I believe and have been doing my entire life is
fundamentally wrong.
Who are we to decide what is right
and wrong to believe? Why did we give ourselves that authority? What if what we’re suppressing is the truth?
Sometimes what’s opposed and considered true in one decade is accepted in the
following decade after it. It can’t be right that what’s fundamentally right
and wrong changes with the times. How can it be when the dogma of subjectivity
is unchanging? How can America be a country tolerant of many beliefs when only
those who benefit or are not threatening us are accepted while others are
shunned?
There is currently a sort of revolution
going on in America because of a group of people fighting for their beliefs and
against what they consider to be evil in this country. It was started by a police
officer named Silas, his fellow officers, and the friends they made all of which
came from this city. How long has it been since it started again? A couple of
months? I haven’t been following it that much, but I do every now and then
because of how it fascinates me. I’ve never seen so many people devoted to what
they believe to the point where they’d risk their lives, jobs, and loved ones
so that the country can be fixed. The partners of my family’s company have
tried to get rid of them and have been slandering them daily calling
them terrorists and extremists. Some of my partners have been exposed for their
crimes or killed by this group, which adds to my curiosity about them because of
how a group of no-named civilians was able to come together to break down companies
and wealthy and influential families that have the backing of the country.
I’ve been told to keep my head down
and the Weaver family’s message in line with the rest of everyone else’s. In
addition, I was also told that if this group should seize power, then I should either
pretend to join them to destroy them from the inside or continue to use my
family’s resources for the original plan. I don’t like either of these ideas.
In fact, I don’t want any part of this civil war or this life that I’m living.
That brings up the question that keeps coming up in my mind that I’m always
afraid to answer. What should I do next? Am I really going to give this life
away to live as a rebel with no place to go and no one to rely on?
With no good answer in my mind, I
decide to drive to my uncle’s shop to ask him in person what I should do. Even
though my family isn’t religious in the slightest, he is and he talks about his
faith and what’s right and wrong. When I arrive at his shop, I see him thumbing
through his bracelet with beads and a cross on it. What did he call it again? A
rosary? Entering his shop, he puts the bracelet back on his wrist, crosses himself,
and comes to greet me with a smile and one of his spine-breaking hugs.
“It’s so good to see you again,
Alabaster,” he says while crushing my spine. “How are you doing, my boy?”
“I’m doing fine, uncle. Can you please
let me breathe now?” I ask.
“Sure, sure. What can I do for you?”
“I’m…I don’t know how to say this
and you’re the only person that I thought I could turn to. I’m not sure what I want
to do with my life.”
“Alabaster! You’re not going to
kill yourself, are you?! Listen, you know that I love you and-”
“No, I’m not going to kill myself.”
My uncle sighs and then says, “I’m
sorry that I jumped to conclusions there. I’ve just been hearing about the rise
in suicides in young men your age and thought the worst. Well, I thought the
same once and God brought me to faith through it. That’s why I’m a crazy
religious man like your parents say. Maybe you should try asking God what you
should be doing in quiet prayer?”
“Okay. I don’t have any better
options in mind.”
“Hold my hand and the blessed
rosary in it and ask through the intercession of the Blessed Mother for God
wants you to do.”
I do this silly thing as seriously
as I can with my eyes closed and the thought of America’s corruption comes back
to me and my family’s part in it. We manipulate the truth so that the public
does what we want and silence those who speak the whole truth. Our underground
servers in this city contain records of our deeds and crimes that we keep for
our pride to show to our most trusted members. My status would allow me to walk
in unquestioned, secretly copy a good portion of it on a USB, and give it to
someone to expose my family’s history of crime to the public. What kind of plan
and course of action is this?
Is this the result of my silent
prayer? This must be some crazy plan put in my head because of how absurd it
is. It makes sense given how crazily devoted my uncle is to his faith. Still,
it seems like the right thing to do. With no better idea in my mind, I resolve
to do it.
“Thank you, uncle. I know now what I
must do,” I say before hugging him again and leaving my uncle’s shop, and
heading to my family’s underground servers.
Finally, I’m going to do something useful
and right in my life.
No comments:
Post a Comment