The Masked World

I love the new rules:
Education, communication, appreciation.

I still don’t have the watch. Even though they told me they’d give it back as soon as I finished my first week of school. Its day 256 and I’ve followed their orders perfectly. I wear my mask every day and I’ve stringed the three words together 511 times, and half-heartedly spoken them twice a day just like they’ve asked.

They told me to hand over the watch at the placement test. Of course I gave it to them, reluctantly but gave it to them none the less; it’s the only thing I have left of my brother. He would be 18 if he'd lived through the last attack. My evaluator has explained it to me one-thousand and one times: “The government wishes to create total equality by taking away distinguishing items. Everyone else has to go though it too, 4-1-4.”

That’s my New Name. 414. The other day in my History class a girl starting screaming at the top of her lungs. I asked her what was wrong quietly and she shrieked back that she couldn’t remember her Past Name. I felt truly bad for her. Other people looked worried as they said letters out loud.

Sometimes my mask itches. A lot of the times I wish I could take it off. But more frequently I am glad that it’s the barrier between harsh judgment and an equal respect. Before the Beauty Movement recognizing inner beauty was a challenge. I can still remember the way people sized me up when I stepped on a bus or didn’t look at my eyes when I spoke. Sometimes I hated those days. But a lot of the time I miss them, especially because these days are more painful.

I’ve never seen his face, but he cried when I told him about my brother’s watch. I don’t know his Past Name. He hasn’t asked me either.
He must tell two people a day, “I love you” just like the rest of us. I’ve been told I am loved by 359 strangers and 43 people I know. There’s really no way of calculating who was sincere though.

He hasn’t told me yet. I don’t blame him, I haven’t told him either. It cuts like a knife. One day I heard him telling another girl that he loved her and I forgot why he was doing it. I hope that when I tell him he will know that’s its more then just a blank mask speaking the bare, mandatory words. I hope he knows that it’s the truest thing I have ever expressed.

I love the new rules.