Chapter One - The Big Day

I sat cross-legged with my back straight on the wafer-thin mattress in my cell and tried a Pranayama breathing exercise to calm my frayed nerves. My mind was racing. The thought of tomorrow’s verdict combined with my solitude in a claustrophobic dark cell caused me anxiety as I’d never felt before.

I couldn’t believe my predicament. Last week I was just another guy living his life and trying to survive. Now I was a world-famous killer awaiting a possible death sentence in the morning. Things couldn’t have gone more wrong. And to think I was only trying to survive and protect my family. How did it come to this? How did I go from being a meek family man to someone angry enough to pull the trigger and gun down unarmed people in the street?

What bothered me was my lack of regret. Was I a monster? Had I finally cracked? No. I’d done my best to be fair and civil. I gave them a chance they didn’t deserve and should’ve taken. They deserved the deaths I gave them, and now the outside was deciding if I’d pay for it with my life. The thing is, I’d do it all again if I had to. I laughed at myself, thinking about how the week began. As boring as every other. I thought my life was stressful at the time and had no idea of what was coming.

It began like any other day. I slammed my fist on the food dispenser on the wall because I couldn’t face a stressful day like the one I had ahead on an empty stomach. No joy. I’d meant to get it fixed for the last week but couldn’t afford it. I tried again, this time hitting the front.

The metallic box flickered to life and asked for my thumbprint. I didn’t hesitate and pressed my thumb against the touchscreen before it had the chance to shut down again. It beeped and displayed my name, an account balance of $22,243, and the icons for the meals I could afford. I guess it was Power Porridge and a cup of Café Essentiel for the fourth time this week.

I tapped the icons, and the machine gurgled as it mixed the powders into the perfect combination. I took a breath and stepped back to grab a plastic bowl and mug off the table. The dispenser beeped around ten seconds later to inform me that my feast was ready.

First, I had to endure an ad. The touchscreen switched to a video of a stressed-out man going through his piled-up bills and shaking his head. Then he looked at his sad wife and son in old, tatty clothes and smiled. Next, he called a number. The scene changed to him smiling and laughing with them. Then it cut to him being led up a ramp by a gorgeous model. Then his wife and child were alone. They were wearing the latest fashion and looking happy. The ad ended with words across the screen saying, “If life’s kicking you down, kick it back and take charge of your family’s future. City Ascension services are free and available 24/7, so you can leave a lasting legacy they’ll remember forever. Ascendies over 40 get shoutouts for 24 hours on every social platform and an extra $200,000 and 1,000 social credit for their families if they book now.”

I didn’t feel like killing myself this week and wasn’t interested. I pressed the red button after the ad finished, and the dispenser detected my bowl and spat out a brownish lumpy goo. The synthetic coffee gave off a plant-like smell that made me gag as it dripped into my mug. I couldn’t remember the last time I had real caffeine. My balance was down to $17,566.

The bench and table slid out of the wall automatically as I approached, and I sat down to eat the slop in my bowl. I’d mastered the art of gulping down the sludge without needing to taste it. I breathed through my mouth to avoid the odor and shoveled spoonfuls into my mouth while they were still warm and hadn’t turned rubbery.

My bowl was empty in no time, and I washed it down with the bitter black substance in my mug. And just like that I got my daily dose of morning nutrition, the breakfast of champions.

I heard Jasmine’s wheelchair squeaking as it rolled down the hall. Something else I hadn’t gotten around to fixing. She appeared around the corner, and I was shocked to see how loosely her favorite floral dress hung over her gaunt body. What was left of her grey hair was tied in a neat ponytail. It was my first time seeing her wear lipstick in months. The light pink color suited her and matched her pale skin. My mind flashed through some of our happier moments, and I fought back tears when the reality that she wouldn’t be around for much longer hit me.

She said, “Hello, Goldilocks. Another day in paradise?”

I replied, “Yup, everything’s just right, mama bear. Want some?”

She looked at me in disgust and smiled as she rolled closer.

I stood up, wrapped one hand behind her back and the other under her legs, then lifted her onto the bench beside me. She weighed almost nothing these days.

“I’d give anything for a cinnamon and lemon pancake today,” said Jasmine.

“Good luck with that.”

“I can dream, can’t I?”

“It’s about the only thing you can do for free these days. Knock yourself out.”

I gazed at the spaces where the appliances used to be. It was something I’d never get used to. I felt helpless at not being able to give my dying wife a simple pleasure I’d once taken for granted.

I was barely keeping myself together because the thought of my son, Jordan, and his family moving out made me feel like my life was coming apart. How was I going to survive on my income and look after Jasmine alone? I kept these thoughts to myself, not wanting to invite unwanted drama into my peaceful morning.

Jasmine picked up on everything. She noticed my disdain and put her hand over mine.

“It will be okay. We’ll get through this.”

“You’re right,” I replied, not wanting to rock the boat.

She wasn’t buying it. And could tell I was on edge. She held my hand even tighter.

“I know it’s hard, but let’s get through today without stressing.”

Jasmine meant well, but her efforts had the opposite effect. I kept quiet, resisting the urge to speak my mind and say what I really thought. She wanted me to be open and honest. If I did, she’d get angry and emotional, and it wouldn’t end well. The last thing I needed was her getting stressed out and fighting today.

She snuggled closer to me, and having her head on my shoulder felt amazing. I took in the fresh smell of shampoo, which reminded me of the old days. The moment would be perfect if she could just keep quiet. And then it came.

“Faiz, don’t you need to get going?”

“There’s still time.”

“You won’t get good seats.”

“It’s only at 11.”

“Better to be early.”

I could manage my own time and didn’t need her nagging me. It’s not like I was excited about the event anyway. I hated politics, especially when they were forced on me.

“I said, don’t worry,” in the vain hope she’d leave me alone.

“You can’t miss it.”

I loved her and knew she meant well. I still wished she’d shut up.

She was about to say something else when Nadia strolled in. The way the girl looked at me and grinned told me she’d overheard our conversation and was saving me like she’d done a thousand times before.

Nadia was almost fifteen and smarter than us. She was a carbon copy of her grandmother, with the same intelligent green eyes and wisdom beyond her years that came across as confidence and sometimes arrogance. I was proud of the woman she was becoming and feared losing her more than anything in the world. I knew I’d need to let go of her at some point. I just wasn’t ready to do it today, not after raising her like my own child.

She put her hands on her hips in an exaggerated manner and said, “Am I interrupting a special moment or something? Do you need a minute?”

I said, “Join us for breakfast. I’ll make you a waffle.”

She smiled and nodded, then sat on the bench and put her arms around me. My heart melted. The feeling of being sandwiched between the two people I loved the most was pure bliss, and I wished it would never end. Looking back, I realized it was a special moment. The last time I felt peace. The last time we’d be together like that.

Too bad it only lasted a minute. Faiz, make her waffle. She must be hungry,” said Jasmine.

“It’s okay, I’ll do it,” said Nadia, not moving an inch and still cuddling me.

“You guys can’t miss the elections,” said Jasmine.

It was obvious we weren’t ecstatic at the idea of spending our last day together at a damn election, and I wished she’d shut up and leave us in peace.

I didn’t say anything because I knew Jasmine was as upset as I was about today, and finding ways to keep us busy was her way of maintaining control.

“Have something. You can’t go out on an empty stomach,” said Jasmine.

Nadia knew better than to argue with her granny and marched across the blue tiles to the dispenser. She tapped the dispenser’s touchscreen, and it whirred back to life.

This time, it heated and mixed the powders in a different combination and beeped when it was done. Nadia placed her plate underneath a flap which opened when she pressed a button. A crisp square waffle dropped into her plate. She’d used my account, and my balance was now down to $12,937.

It knew it tasted like sugar-coated plastic, but she’d never had a real waffle in her life and didn’t know any better. Sometimes ignorance is bliss.

My son Jordan appeared while she munched her favorite meal.

He was wearing his work clothes in public, despite knowing how much I hated it.

Jordan was only 35, but he looked ten years older because of his sunken eyes and prominent hunch from a lifetime of screen time. His streaming uniform consisted of a dark green wizard’s hat and cloak over a white T-shirt with the words MasterofMadnizz by Nuclear Nectar Energy Drink emblazoned across the front.

Going places with him dressed like that was embarrassing, and I thought about saying something. It was on the tip of my tongue, but I decided not to because it was pointless.

It was our last day together, and I didn’t want unnecessary issues. I just found it sad that he built his identity around his gamer persona.

“Ready?” he said, tucking his matching green plastic magic wand into his belt.

Nadia’s waffle was gone in no time, and she joined us at the door.

“Isn’t mum coming?” She asked her dad.

On cue, her mum, Sandy, stepped out of her room and into the passage, wearing immaculate makeup and a fitted pink mini dress with matching heels.

“Sorry, girl. Someone’s got to pay the bills.” She embraced Nadia and blew a kiss at Jordan, who returned a loving smile.

The future seemed bleak. I was still grateful to spend a few hours with my son and granddaughter before my family fell apart.