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One

“Lilac, will you marry me?” David asks.

My hands fly to my mouth. “Yes!” I cry. “Yes, yes, yes!”

Then the mediorite comes, after our wedding.

And it kills David.

“All women and children, all women and children, board. Only women and children!”

“No!” I cry. “David!” I screech.

He looks into my eyes. “I will remember you,” He says calmly.

“You won’t survive!” I yell, while being pushed into the ship. “Get off the Earth!”

“I cannot.” He says. “Survive!”

I want to die in Davids arms.

I do not want to die old.

I sit on my bed, belly lurching from drifting into space.

David.

I hold my ring.

Life will change.

We’re back on Earth.

All peices of Meterorite- gone.

There are tons of grassy fields and trees.

No graves.

Huge buildings, though.

We are escorted in, and I’m gripping my ring.

I keep my ring hidden.

I sit in the room provided.

I walk towards the mirror, the only one.

I stare at my eyes.

I have brown/green/ lilac/ aqua/golden/blue eyes.

I have heterochromias.

Imagine a lilac garden, with a single tree. Imagine the sea, the sun, the sky.

Blur it.

That are my eyes.

I don’t think anyone else has this form of heterochromias.

If it’s heterochromias at all.

It’s the first time I’ve seen a male in a year.

Women, naturally, are fawning over the hundred we have.

And we have 800 women.

And 300 kids.

Not all survived space.

“One hundred women will marry a man.” The president of the world says. “Meaning only one in eight.”

I hope I’m not picked. I only want David.

“Those who are not picked are expected to serve those who are.”

Never mind.

Murmurs rush around the crowd.

I bat my eyelashes at an appealing looking man.

I need to find one willing to marry me-quickly.

“And three hundred women will serve the children.” President Ice (see what I did there? Ice instead of snow. Ice is good, though), her voice swooping to the skies.

We all group with seven random people.

When I lift off my blindfold, I inhale sharply.

This will not end well for them.

They are all, medium pretty, but extremely skinny. Thin hair, flat lips.

The same man I batted my eyelashes comes, blindfolded, into our group.

“That’s not fair!” One girl in my group whispers. “She batted her eyelashes at him earlier, and he fell for the bait!”

Of course he did. My wavy, dirty blonde hair has mysterious golden tips, I have a nice figure, I have soft, strawberry lips, a small, straight nose, doe eyes, naturally curled eyelashes, and dark chocolate skin.

And my skin contrasts against everything- in a good way.

He takes off his blindfold and looks around at our name tags. Then our faces.

“I choose…”

“I choose…” He says. “Layla.”

The girl who gossiped about me squeals.

“No, that’s not right.” He says.”You Layla,” pointing at me.

“I’m Lilac,” I say.

He rolls his eyes. “The government changed your name.”

I weep silently. I don’t want this anymore. I want David to call me Lilac one more time.

I’m escorted into one of the fancy buildings. My hair down, with one small group from either side of my head drawn together and tied with a silk ribbon.

I wear a silk, champagne skirt as that goes down to my knees and a large piece of the same material tied around my waist. A strapless pink silk shirt hugs my torso.

No makeup is done for me- I refused to put those skin-killing products on me. But I did do skin treatment.

I take a deep breath, and I walk onto the stage.

“Lady Layla, Lady Number one.” President Ice announces.

I wave delicately, like a doll.

Hundreds of jealous ladies- the ones not picked- sneer at my face.

99 men glance jealously at the guy I’m supposed to marry.

I smile, and twirl.

I smile my best smile.

I sit down oh-so delicately on the comfy chair. I discreetly pull out the Lilac I snuck and weave it in my hair.

Many women come, but I still smile, wave, and sometimes I remove the fabric piece to sometimes twirl.

After announcing the ladies, we have a talent show. I go last.

I prerecorded a song, called, End.

I do a ballet dance to go along with it.

“Oh, the End…. the end, the end. Oh the end, of me and, your gone… oh the end, the end, the end. Oh the end of me, and your lost.

I’m trying so hard… but all I see is that rock … hitting you… I don’t want you to die

but you have

I wanted you to survive

but you didn’t

Ooooooooh.

Oh, the End…. the end, the end. Oh the end, of me and, your gone… oh the end, the end, the end. Oh the end of me, and your lost……….” Goes the song.

I dance a sorrowful dance, and at the end, everyone’s crying. Even me.

“Wonderful!” President Ice says. “Oh, the e-motion. Did you dedicate it to someone?

“David,” I say. “It was about David dying.”

“We don’t talk about sad past affairs here,” Ice says kindly. “Though I am allowing you to make a small memorial.”

I smile.

At my new house, everything is large.

“Here you go, Miss.” The girl who didn’t get Thomas, AKA the girl who whispered about me, says.

“Thank you.” I say, reaching for my strawberry smoothie. “Please make another.”

When she returns, I tell her to sit on one of the pillows, near the fireplace, on the floor.

“Have this smoothie,” I say. “I want to talk to you.”

As we sip our smoothies, we talk about before this.

“I was drinking OJ,” She says. “No, it was fruit punch. We were done harvesting millions of fruits and vegetables, and we were done loading them on the ship.

“My father told us he would survive. And he did. He his in the fruits and veggies. They found him, but just said he would be a mentor to the kids.

“I was his apprentice. I was hoping to win over Thomas so I didn’t have to do it, but…”

I nod. “But I’m volunteering.” I say. “So you don’t have to do much.”

She shakes her head. “No. You…”

“I’m a Lady, yes.” I say. “And it will do Thomas good in the election.”

The girl looks confused. “Election?”

“Oh, right. I forgot they would tell you later this evening. The election for King and Queen Of Lardyia?”

She sighs. “Lu-cky.”

“Here you go,” I feed a little girl.”You might be a princess one day, if you eat.” I wink.

I’m studying the ultimate food.

A-ha!

I take every vitamin bottle. I mix them all together.

Now, for the hard part.

I call my two servants. “Let’s make smoothies!”

We make many, many smoothies.

I take all the smoothies and the vitamin mixture and pour it into a huge bowl, then mix. I taste test. Good!

I add tons and tons of heavy cream, then I mix and whip it.

I freeze it quickly- the freezer is high-tech. Then, I melt every health chocolate we have.

I take out popsicle sticks and with clean hands, I mold the ice cream onto a stick and dip it in chocolate, then freeze it again.

We have just made two thousand ice cream sticks.

In six hours.

“Yummy, healthy, ice cream!” I hand out to the kids.

“This is good!” A girl says.

“Thank you!” A boy says.

The other ladies, whom have started campaigning for their own husbands, by volunteering, reluctantly take one.

I bite into it.

Heaven.

I head towards the work building, pushing one ice cream stand, while my servants push even bigger ones.

I go through the gate, and into a magical world.

The glass dome is huge, with tons of space. You can work, exercise, and more.

I walk toward Thomas, and I hand him and ice cream. “Healthy, too.”

He reluctantly takes one. He bites and…

“It’s amazing!” He says. He leaps for joy, well, because the vitamins give him energy. He hungrily eats it.

“You can have it for breakfast, as long as you have a salad for lunch and meat and rice for dinner. You can have it for dessert, too.”

As workers watch Thomas crazily dance around the working dome, they all take the ice cream, too.

Thomas suddenly stops.

“That’s it!” He cries.

“What’s it?”

“The ice cream! That’s what my food company will be!”

“That’s not fair!” Tons of people argue. “If we had gotten her, we would’ve…”

“Yummy, healthy ice cream! Just vote for Thomas!” Is going around all of our TV’s.

“This ice cream is making a breakthrough with the last people on earth,” Ice reports. “It is now the favorite food.”

I bite into my avocado toast with a sunnyside up egg. I sip some OJ and bite into one of my many slices of bacon.

How the f**k did cows and chickens and farm animals survive, and David didn’t?

“Election day,” Thomas says, happily, “And if we win, you can get a horse.”

I sit, bored on the carriage pulled by robots.

“Wave,” Thomas says. “Wave.”

So I put on a bright smile and wave.

I blow kisses to the men who Thomas outranked in the race, and smile at little kids.

I hand out ice cream everytime the carriage stops.

But most of all, I wear David’s ring.

I stand on a platform, with the other ladies.

“Before the election,” Ice say. “A talent show with our ranked ladies!”

I go last, again.

My song that I recorded? Start.

I step off the stage. Gasps go through the crowd.

I take off the fabric tied on my waist and start dancing.

“I, thought, life would be so hard without you

but, I made it…. maaaaaaaade it

and I can start all over again

oh, can start all over again.

I’ll miss you……… but I can start.

I, thought, that you wouldn’t want me to love again.

but, I loved looooooooooooved

and I can start all over again

oh, can start all over again

I’ll miss you………… But I can

Staaaaaaaaaaaaart.”

I cursty. I pick up a lilac and place it in my hair. I finger David’s ring.

But then I remove them both.

Because I can start all over again.

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