It was an ordinary day for a two year old: crawling around the house, crying for food, giggling at toys, and sleeping whenever I could. My mom and dad were decorating the house. They loved to throw parties for just about anything. This was no exception. Even though they knew that they would not see their son or daughter again, that they would not see their house again, that they would never see another normal day again, they were celebrating their 18th birthdays. Though I was too young to place it, I knew that it was not an ordinary day for a two year old.

At 8:00, people trickled into the house, and the party kicked off.

At 9:00, the party was in full swing.

At 10:00, the festivities were winding down and the first tears began to fall.

At 11:00, my parents told us that they were taking a trip and that they would be back.

At 11:59, my parents tucked me and my twin sister Soph into our beds and told us to sleep well.

At 12:00, the buzzing started.

It happened so fast, the moment was in slow motion. My parents were standing directly in front of us. A single tear lept from my Mother’s face. The roof of the house was ripped open by unseen hands and the claw came through. The buzz was amplified in the small bedroom. The claw grabbed my parents and retracted through the roof where it had came, sealing the roof back up in the process. My Mother’s lone tear splashed with a sickening echo in front of a crystal slab. The only remnant of that night. The night where sounds of celebration yielded to sounds of two infants calling for parents long gone.

*  *  *

July 10th, 2986

Tessa and Darian Reichert Sr.

were taken to The Shred

upon turning 18

Every day I stare at that polished crystal, remembering the events of that night so I may find a way out. I live in a community of people waiting for their lives to end. It hangs over The Shard like a never ending fog. They’re just sitting and waiting for The Buzz to take them. I intend to be different. Everybody who I used to fantasize about leaving this broken town with has settled into a perpetual loop of ordinary life. They all just accept the Buzz. Even my sister Soph, who I had shared the hardest times of my life with, and who was with me when our parents were taken. I hate it. I will not be the same as all of them. I do not see the fog above me like I do above everybody else. I will not be the same. “Here lies Darian Reichert Jr. Burned to death on the day before his 18th birthday. He refused to play by the rules of the Buzz” I spit. I hurl the match onto the gas soaked floor. I get one last look at the clock before I burst out the back door: 11:59, December 31st, 2999.

My buzz is in one minute.