District 7

To begin with, I should start with information regarding the start of my life. I was born in a white, brick building, much like a hospital. To be completely honest I don't really remember much of the place, except for the fact that the interior was glossy white and that it had the faint scent of disinfectant. One thing that was certain was that it was not a hospital, and that the place was not located anywhere on the guide book of the districts within the dome. Which also made me wonder, were my memories of my early childhood purposely jumbled up, or did they have a reason why that little white building, no, the entirety of District 7, was denied existence on the map?

It was the year 2181, a relatively normal year in the dome, where hundreds of kids would have been born. No significant inventions or discoveries were made, an utterly unremarkable year. But later on this year would go down in history as the most infamous, for the birth of a certain child, for which I will talk about later.

In reality the building was located at the edge of District 7, near a bunch of derelict factories. Perhaps it was even converted from one of those. District 7, adjacent to district 6 and 1, unlike all the other districts inside the dome was a bit special. On the map, it is put down as uninhabited, and yet here I was, calling it home. For as long as I can remember, I've never had parents, then again neither did Darren or Hannah, and most likely all the other kids in Cransfield and all the other schools.

Afterwards I was moved to a centre in the middle of District 7, called the "House". Many things about the House, and my entire upbringing could be summed up as strange, but I guess I never really noticed, I was always too busy playing. Like every other kid, nothing apart from play ever crossed my mind, I was too obsessed to ever, focus on anything else.

District 7 was one of the larger districts within the dome. It was created to house about 1000 people, about a tenth of the Dome's population. The outer circle of District 7 was a series of abandoned factories, covered in inches of dust and soot, from years of neglect. This was where the facility was located. The middle of District 7, consisted of several buildings, all of which were stone cold, and dripping with ominous feelings every time we walked past. But yes, indeed the "House" was located there. All the other buildings in the district were empty, devoid of life. We lived in this ghost town. Hannah, Darren and I.

By the way, The Dome consists of eight districts, numbered 0 to 7, in a circular shape, spreading out with a radius of 100 km. At the very centre of it is the "Central Business District", or "District 0", where most of the adults with high paying, white collared jobs, would take the bullet train from their districts every morning, and return in the evening after a hard day of work. District 0 was filled with skyscrapers, and cramped to the brim, bustling with the wealthiest in society.

District 1 and 5 were agriculture districts, the horizon which seemed to stretch out endlessly was filled with the image of cows frolicking in meadows and rows upon rows of wheat and rice paddies. Districts 1 and 5 were always the places they took us on school trips.

Districts 2 and 3 were seaside districts. They were the ideal location for "romantic" vacations, and "honeymoon" locations. The difference between districts 2 and 3 however was that District 2 was a fishing district that relied mostly on their seafood industry, and it was much more budget friendly than the luxurious paradise resorts of District 3. Boasting a most beautiful skyline, impeccably white sands, and crystal clear, turquoise water, District 3 was as ideal as you could get. Only the filthy rich could afford to live there. And it was where Shaftsburg, one of the only 3 educational facilities was located.

District 4, was as plain as you could get. It was inconspicuous so nobody was ever drawn to it, but its presence was something very calming, in the midst of a frenzied society. Not surprisingly, this district was where normal (or what you could call normal in this society) people lived, as well as where the Cransfield Boarding School was located. It was simply a patch of green with buildings scattered.

District 6 and 7 were the factory and industrial districts, except that due to technical advances in the last few decades District 7 had been mostly abandoned. Rumours had it that District 6, was being used as a research facility, but those rumours were quickly to be disproven. District 6 was also home to another School, the International School of Industrial Arts.

I only found out this almost a decade after I graduated from Cransfield, but apparently The Dome, is located somewhere along the north-west coast of Europe. At school we were never taught this. Can you believe that! We were so in the dark, we didn't even know where we were located. Apparently information on the "Old World" is irrelevant. On our continent alone, there are 4 other colonies like this, inside a plastic hemisphere, illuminated under a holographic sky, with people equally ignorant.

Currently only 10 000 people exist in the dome. And from a young age we were forbidden to leave.

"Why, Beth, why aren't we allowed to, why can't we leave this sheet of plastic?" I questioned our guardian, innocently, being the naive 4 year old child I was.

"Because the outside world is a dangerous place." She replied, while gently tucking me in to bed, smiling gently. Her soft hazel eyes etching into my memory. Beth was one of the carers assigned to us. She was my favourite, she would rarely yell, lose her temper or even raise her voice. Something about the soft, mysterious way that she spoke enthralled me. Her long braided hair fell over her shoulders.

"But why?"

"Layla, dear, have you heard of respiratory diseases?"

I shook my head. My bangs, predominantly parted to one side, shook with me.

"Well in the outside world, dust particles are extremely large due to a mutation in the composition of dust particles. This in turn has evolved native flora and fauna to suit the environment better. Radioactive particles, remaining from the Great Nuclear War, or World War 3 are still present in the air." She paused for a second, thinking about a simpler way to put it for a child. "So, it's not safe for us."

At that time, although I didn't understand much of what she said, I admired her. For telling a child like me the truth, well it was a half truth anyways. What so many adults had failed to do.

"Anyways, Layla, it's time for you to go to bed".

My face dropped in disappointment, I wanted to know more about the immense world outside.

"Wait, Beth, I have one last question before bed, please", I begged.

I knew that Beth had a weakness for children who begged while pouting their lips, so I exploited it.

"Alright." She agreed hesitantly.

"Why is it that children in books, don't live like us?"

She was visibly taken aback by my question, and for the first time she had faltered while trying to answer my question. I could feel the stirrings of fear within her, accompanied by an insurmountable sadness.

Her answer, although not intentional, was more like a reflex. She muttered softly.

"Because we aren't normal."

For a split second her dark pupils dilated, after realising what she had just said. Her delicate hands simultaneously slammed onto her lips.

My jaw dropped when I heard the response, although I didn't understand what it meant at the time. What did she mean we weren't normal? We weren't some mutant ant monsters. Something in my stomach felt sick, like an instinct, and because of that dreaded premonition, I didn't dare question further. In that moment I was so sure of my impending death, had I not kept my mouth shut.

Later on that night, as I was on my way to the bathroom, I heard Beth's desperate sobs.

"I wish I could've loved those children normally." I couldn't help but wonder, what had she done wrong? What did she mean? Of course she loved us, so why was she saying that? I panicked and, within me, I had the desire to walk up to Beth, give her a big hug and tell her that we loved her and that whatever she was feeling it was okay. But I didn't go up and comfort her. I was too afraid to do that. So I just pretended that I didn't hear anything.

The next morning Beth was back to normal, telling us stories, cuddling some of the younger kids, with the same dreamy expression in her hazel eyes. No one noticed a difference, regarding her attitude towards us, except for me. To me her smiles seemed more forced, and in her eyes a patch of sadness could be spotted. No perhaps it was always there, we just never noticed. From then until our graduation from the House, Beth could be seen looking at us with fear and pity. We grew distant from Beth since then. I never contacted the House after moving to Cransfield.

It was only years later that I was informed about Beth's death. Perhaps if we tried to understand her better then she wouldn't have taken her own life. Anyways, I will explain about this matter later on. Let's get back to my childhood.

One of my earliest memories that I can recall, was the time where Darren, Hannah and I, for the first time left District 7. Of course we weren't supposed to, but I remember begging them very hard, to the point of emotional blackmail. At that point they were visibly embarrassed and had no choice but to go.

As I close my eyes, I can recall the scene as vividly as yesterday.

We were standing on the hilltop, on the border between District 6 and 7. A crimson sunset, was dawning on us. We lay down on the moist, jungle-green grass, simply observing the beauty of it all. It was the first time that we had seen anything so majestic, up close, and between the three of us we wanted to treasure it for as long as we could.

"See." I murmured almost breathless from the view. "The risk paid off."

"Yeah."

I could see that Hannah was spellbound by it from the way her eyes glittered with admiration. Perhaps we all were.

Then Darren broke the wonderful illusion that we were under. Out of all of us, he was the most awestruck when he first saw the blood sunset. But he was also the first to break out of that trance.

"But it's not real."

Out of our trio, Darren was always the one who brought up heavy words, like "artificial" and "real". And for some reason, every time he did, it always upsets me. This time was no exception. So what if our sunset was fake, so what if the sun, moon and stars were fake, so what? As long was we were real, why did those things matter?

I bit my lip, in an attempt to conceal my unjustified frustration.

"Darren, you know, who's to determine what's real and what's artificial? You? Me?" I questioned in a desperate attempt to stop him from discussing this topic any further. He didn't take the hint.

"No, but it's clear that this sunset, is just a hologram cast by the weather team from inside the dome. So it's obvious that it's fake." He looked me in the eyes, his piercing green eyes, etching into mine. For a moment I was mesmerised by them, by their faint glow, and some other quality that cannot be expressed into words. I grimaced, because he had just made the topic more difficult to avoid.

"No but if I'm real, and if I think what I'm seeing is real, then it becomes reality for me." I didn't think of how stupid that sounded, when I spoke those words. That was a logical fallacy.

For normal 6 year olds, a conversation, like the one that we had just shared may have seemed impossible, but we weren't normal 6 year olds. No we were anything but normal compared to the standards of the old society. Beth was right.

Darren was about to open his mouth again, when Hannah interrupted us.

"Whether it is real or not, is it important?" She snapped at us. "You guys are ruining the mood, and you'll come complaining to me later about not getting a better look at the sunset."

She was right. The scarlet sunset was starting to turn darker and eventually fade into night. And the two of us shut up for the rest of the evening, to witness the last moments before the sun fully set.

Although my mouth was tightly sealed my thoughts were running rampant. What was it to be real? What was the difference between being real and fake? A hundred years from now, would people still remember me? Would my children, and my children's, children forget about me completely? If they did, what proof did I have that I existed? Who's to say that I did exist? That I was real, and had a place in this world at one point in time. That I was a flesh and blood human. None.

What was real? The realisation dawned on me. If no one remembered my existence, my legacy, would I still be real? For the rest of that week I pondered about the concept of "real". I finally understood a portion of what Darren had been thinking of all this time. Somehow, for the first time I realised how small and insignificant I was in the big picture. The thought of not existing, as absurd as it sounds now, continued to consume me.