Nick Phelps
Wren calmly shut the door to his room and sat on the soft, carpeted floor.
“Do not disturb mode please, Aition.” The windows that peered outside into the utopian metropolis tinted themselves black. The door he had just closed locked itself.
“Would you like some work music, sir?” Aition’s monotone voice spoke over unseen speakers.
“Sentimental mood,” Wren’s voice shook slightly.
“Good choice. That one’s good for concentration.” As the jazz music began with its soft intro, Wren fell on his side and began silently crying. He felt a dark pit forming in his chest. His vision blurred. The pit gave way to immense pain, and he gave out a silent scream. After laying in this state for an hour and almost falling asleep multiple times, he focused his attention on the beautiful sound that was playing through his automatic record player. He wiped his eyes, sat up, and regained his normal, excellent posture.
“How’s the work, sir?”
Wren sniffled, “coming along great.” His voice was now monotone like Aition’s. He searched through a nightstand that was next to his bed. A large notebook sat on top of all the rubbish that was dropped pointlessly into the drawer. Its cover was light blue with white specks. It read, Wren’s Thought Journall. “Just doing some notes,” Wren said to Aition, “Play all of Kind of Blue when this song is over.”
“Yes, sir,” Aition responded. Wren took out a pen and opened the notebook about halfway through. He listed the date 27/5/99 and began to write.
The cloud has returned with great force after about a month’s respite. The AP test is in about a week, and I feel prepared for it, but I am still incredibly nervous. I still can’t place the origin of this cloud as it seems to return at random times. Gwen and I worked together for another one-hour study session after school. She had told me beforehand that she wanted her boyfriend, Trevor, to come too, as he needed the help, but he never showed, so we brushed up on some math, which is a weak area for both of us. After we finished studying we watched a movie, and now I’m here, writing in this stupid journal. I don’t know why I think this helps.
He shut the notebook and threw it back into the drawer.
“Mother has returned home. Would you like to greet her?” Aition spoke as if queued.
“No, maintain ‘do not disturb’ mode, please.” The window immediately untinted itself, and the door unlocked itself.
“Wren, come help me with the groceries!” He heard his mother’s voice as the sound insulation in his room was turned off.
“Coming,” he responded callously as he made his way downstairs. He walked out the front door towards the parked car. He stepped onto the platform that sat thousands of stories above the ground. He viewed the megatowers that surrounded him with their blue glass shining in the sun and the green plants that accented each building. The sky was blue and clear and the air smelled fresh with a touch of pinewood. The levitated itself in its parked position right next to the entrance of their apartment. Wren took the remaining bags from the backseat and proceeded back inside to the kitchen.
“How was your day, honey?” His mom’s voice was now significantly sweeter and more relaxing than when she first called him.
“It was all right,” he automatically responded. His mom immediately saw through his veil of apathy and stopped putting the groceries away for a moment.
“What’s the matter?” she asked. Wren thought about what to divulge for a moment.
“Just a little stressed is all,” he said.
“Oh, just you wait,” she resumed working on the groceries. “Just you wait until after you take the AP test. It doesn’t get any easier after that.”
Wren put a loaf of bread away before saying, “thanks,” and returning to his room where he reengaged do not disturb mode until the next morning.
~
Wren calmly shut the door and told Aition to play more jazz music before he took the thought journal out of his nightstand and began writing. He started by marking the date 28/6/99.
Gwen is starting to make these study sessions more frequent as well as longer due to the encroachment of the AP test. I think she’s getting more and more frustrated with Trevor. Today, in study hall, she was trying to focus on some homework, but he kept distracting her. Eventually she just moved tables. I briefly considered moving next to her, but I decided that she probably wanted peace and quiet. Mrs. Wellenak explained some of the rules of the AP test to us today. She talked about the different sections. Science, math, history, and earthian language. She told us we only needed a passable grade in one of them, but the more passes you got the easier your job hunting future would be and the cheaper college would be. Gwen and I both decided that we should do our best to pass all four of the sections. I’m confident both of us can pass at least two. History I don’t even need to study for. Another item of note that occured today. In my creative writing class, Mrs. Wellenak gave me a complete short-story collection for each of the three authors that she said she thinks I am most inspired by: Hemmingway, Bradbury, and Lovecraft. All three of the books are very old and worn. She told me that she gave them to me so that I could best determine how to be different from them. At that moment I knew for sure I wanted to be a writer. I just need to think of something to have as a backup plan in case that doesn’t work out. Overall, I feel pretty decent today. I hope to do more study sessions with Gwen as we approach the AP test, and I hope we decide to stick with our plan of passing all four sections. I also hope I can start being honest with myself.
~
The car drew to a stop in front of the school. Through the glass walls Wren could see the hectic movement of administrators and students at desks taking on the towering reputation of the AP test.
“It always gets like this on test day,” Wren’s mom said as they both exited the car. She kissed him on the forehead and shakily said, “good luck.” Wren could see the worry in her eyes.
“Don’t worry, mom. Gwen and I made sure we covered everything together. We should be good to go.”
“Good,” she responded, “I would be devastated if anything happened to either of you.”
“What do you mean?” Wren asked.
“Nothing, now go and make your mother proud.” Wren quickly forgot about what was just said and quickly entered the school building along with a large group of other students who were assigned to this time of day. The group made its way down several hallways until it reached the gym where hundreds of desks had been set out for the students. Each student occupied a desk and the tests were passed out. Wren noticed Gwen as she sat at her desk. He smiled briefly before being handed the test. He worked through his hardest subject first, which was math, followed by science, then earthian language, then, finally, history. He stuck with the method he and Gwen had devised. Do the hard stuff first while you have the energy. Wren handed his test in and exited the gym through the door opposite the one he came in. The door led to a large courtyard where several students played various games while they waited for their results to
come back. Soon after Wren had entered the courtyard, Gwen followed. They talked about the questions they were unsure about and made sure that they had arrived to the same answers. After the rest of Wren’s group entered the courtyard, an administrator with a megaphone appeared.
“Groups one and two: please follow me, your tests have been graded.” The group immediately hopped to and followed the administrator as he led them to a nearby magrail station. The students boarded the train. The ride as a whole took a total of five minutes but to Wren it felt like a lifetime of staring at a grey wall as he thought about the ramifications of not being Admission Passable. The train dropped them off at a large square. Several kiosks were set up in a line in front of the group of students.
“Please line up at the kiosks. Your results will be given inside.” The mob of students surged forward towards the kiosks. Each person attempted to be first, but eventually everyone organized into several lines. As the line slowly moved forward, Wren suddenly realised that there was a single smokestack jutting out from a building just behind the ministry. He had just answered a science question about the abolition of smokestacks which took place more than a hundred years ago. The stack wasn’t billowing any smoke, but Wren wondered about its purpose during his entire wait. He entered the kiosk and sat in a chair, which was in front of a computer monitor. A tray suddenly stretched out from under the monitor. It contained five numbered stamps.
“Name,” Wren heard Aition’s voice.
“Wren Hastings,” he spoke loud and clear. The computer processed for a moment before speaking again.
“Stamp your right hand with stamp number five, then proceed to the other side of the kiosk line.” Wren took the correct stamp and stamped his hand. A little fox with number four appeared on the back side of his right hand. He left the kiosk with a burst of excitement.
“I passed all four!” he heard someone yell in unison with him. He looked to his left to see the same expression of excitement worn on Gwen’s face. They gave each other a celebratory high five and began to talk about how nervous they were until the administrators voice could be heard over the megaphone.
“Anyone with a cow stamp please follow me, anyone with a cow stamp please follow me.” Several students congregated around the administrator and proceeded to follow him towards the ministry. Gwen and Wren both noticed the back of Trevor’s head as it followed the group of cow stamps.
“Figures,” Gwen said.
“Well, you can’t say we didn’t try.”
“No, you can’t.” They proceeded to talk endlessly about their dream jobs as they waited to see if any of their friends from other groups passed all four sections. As Gwen spoke, Wren decided to sit down for a moment. He couldn’t stop looking into Gwen’s light-blue eyes which so closely matched the clear, unpolluted sky. He compared the two colors until a streak of black smoke burst from the smokestack, blackening a small section of the sky.