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} The following events take place on 26th June, 2030, and the 18th of January, 2031 {
> 18th January, 2031 < “Feel good to be back in the seat again?” Caden asks, returning to his place behind the camera while Sophie returns to the uncomfortable luxury of the spotlight seat. “As good as it can be in the situation provided” she replies, pulling her hair over her ears and tying it into a ponytail, Caden reading off the next question, intrigued by the open-endedness to it. “Speak about the months between leaving the bunker and learning the truth” Caden asks, watching Sophie’s head nod. As she attempts to speak, Sophie finds herself interrupted by Andrew, who cuts into the dialogue with a question of his own, prompting a change in her approach. “Can we talk about the day we barely missed each other first?” Andrew questions, a spoken wonder that jolts Sophie into action. “Yes, we can” the girl remarks, walking to the corner of the room and pulling a chair up beside her own, returning to her seat whilst patting the unoccupied stool beside her. “Come on, dad” Sophie calls out, her father’s hand waving at the gesture, appreciatively declining the offer, rescinding his request. “You’ve spoken it already, don’t back out on it now!” Sophie replies enthusiastically, showing a joy she had been slowly allowing to present itself throughout the day. Having made his bed, Andrew accepts the demand to lay within it, dragging himself into the cold interior of the bunker as the sun begins to set outside, joining his daughter in front of the camera. Looking at her father with a small smile, Sophie mouths the words ‘thank you’ in his direction while he wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her close, the gentle embrace putting a smile on Caden’s visage. = Generation Alpha is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = > 26th June, 2030 | Andrew’s Perspective < “I don’t know what I’d be thinking if I were in your position right now” George huffs, a statement Hugh laughs at from the backseat, both men following the same logic Andrew fails to grasp. “What do you mean?” Andrew inquires, Hugh quickly pointing out the odd circumstances behind his first interaction with his ex-wife in over a decade. “It’s not common to just show up unannounced all of a sudden like this” George explains, “that’s not including the ‘lost child’ component.” “I haven’t been giving it much thought, truth be told” Andrew explains, sitting in the passenger’s seat, his elbow resting against the rim between the door and the window, his head laying against his hand. “You might wanna start thinking, we’re getting damn near close to the place” Hugh mutters from the backseat, “it’d be best to prepare for every kind of reaction.” “I’m gonna keep it simple” Andrew remarks, his non-dominant hand pressing against his knee, “I’ll tell her about Sophie, ask if she knows anything, see what she says and figure out where to go from there.” Letting the man dictate where this encounter goes, Hugh and George resign themselves to the role of spectator, only interfering with the conversation if it takes a less approachable turn. Sliding to a halt in the loose dirt, George’s car parks itself in what appears to be the driveway of a moderately well-off property, three doors opening to reveal the three aforementioned men. Taking the lead, Andrew approaches the front steps first, each foot pressing down on the loose wood, each plank squealing beneath the weight of his boots as George and Hugh follow closely behind. Finally stood at the front door, Andrew lifts his hand into the air, fingers balled into a knuckle, hesitant to knock. From within, he hears a set of footsteps approach the door, his knuckles haven’t yet pressed upon the entrance. Confused, Andrew remains standing on the patio with his fist raised into the air, George quickly stepping in to finish the knock on his friend’s awestruck behalf. Within seconds, Andrew is confronted with his past on completely new territory, his ex-wife, a decade older than when he last saw her, opening the front door to a surprised greeting. “Andrew?” Morgan exclaims, her voice muttering the man’s name, both perplexed and pleased to find him waiting for her answer, “how long has it been?” “Twelve years, Morgan” Andrew replies, wrapping his arms around the woman as she walks into his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist. “Who are your friends?” Morgan wonders aloud, her hand waving toward Hugh and George, who quickly introduce themselves. “They’re trying to help me with something that I think you should know about” Andrew explains, looking toward the inside of the woman’s home, partially expecting her to welcome them in. “May we come in?” Andrew asks, assuming the offer wasn’t going to come unless suggested. “Um, now’s not really that great of a time” Morgan remarks, both Hugh and George nodding to each other, suspicious of the woman before they can even be introduced with more than a word. “Morgan, please… it’s something I think we should talk about someplace other than your front step” Andrew explains, the woman nervously glancing back at the home multiple times before giving in. “Sure, as long as it’s not for too long” Morgan replies, stepping to the side to allow the three men into her home, closing the door shut behind her. A distance away from the house, a second car slowly creeps up to the parked vehicle in the presumed driveway, a single arm dangling out of the driver’s window. Glancing at the home from a distance, Izzy squints toward the sights she’s watched unfold, an eerie feeling sinking in as she reaches for her phone. Looking at the top of her screen, a slight smirk comes across Izzy’s face, the connection completely dead. Shaking her head, Izzy looks around for a nearby cell tower, coming up short in her efforts, unable to prove the cause to be anything more than coincidental. Recalling a supermarket on her way into town, Izzy pulls her vehicle around and returns to the open road, her sights set on the closest place with a signal. > 26th June, 2030 | Sophie’s Perspective < Slamming the door shut, a newly red-haired Sophie approaches the front entrance of the nearby storefront, her hands outstretched, reaching for the closest trolly. A distance away from the small collection of parked vehicles, Izzy’s car patrols the lot, the phone in her hand until the red-haired woman comes into her sights, curiosity settling in. Tossing her phone into the passenger’s seat, Izzy swings her car into a parking spot, emerging from her vehicle with eyes set on the redhead. Locking her doors, Izzy approaches the market, her eyes following the woman roughly thirty feet behind, eyes narrowed, the familiar frame of the lady making her suspicious. Carrying herself through the front doors, Izzy listens to the chime of the entrance go off, her hispanic skin tone prompting a few eyes to glance in her direction. Looking off at a random passerby staring at her through the corner of their eyes, Izzy shrugs and continues on her walk, the redhead disappearing behind the shelves. “Ma’am?” a random employee calls out, catching Izzy by surprise, her presence called into question by the local staff. “Are you following that woman?” a man asks, the woman looking him up and down, asking why he would be asking. “Why?” Izzy remarks, each response coming with her own personal brand of rebelliousness. “Because, if you are, I have reason to fear for that woman’s well being” the man replies, leaving his designated station to approach the teenage girl, her posture stiffening, Izzy unwilling to give up her ground. “Fair enough” Izzy remarks, noticing the importance of picking and choosing her battles while backing away with her hands in the air. “I was suspicious of her parking in the lot and wanted to make sure she wasn’t intoxicated” Izzy replies, backing away from the man with her signal of surrender, “I’ll lay off, though.” Returning the way she came, Izzy looks over her shoulder to find the man retreating, his eyes still traveling with her, only stopped when she rounds the nearest shelves, expecting to end up opposite the young redhead she’d been following. Much to Izzy’s surprise, the aisle she enters remains largely vacant aside from an abandoned cart, its interior overfilled with contents. Nodding to herself, Izzy ventures down the aisle, keeping her distance from curious eyes before looking around the corner at the end, her eyes darting toward every bright-red object she stumbles across. Turning toward the less-ventured side of the store, Izzy glances down each aisle, finding a lack of the person she hopes to discover with each glance, just another empty aisle following another. Growing impatient, Izzy wanders down one aisle, traversing the empty walkway whilst staring into the next aisle over, glancing through the small openings in the shelves toward those occupying the other side. Shaking her head, Izzy takes a second glance through the opening, the flowing red locks of a woman on the other side finally falling into view, her eyes widening upon the reflective sight. Like a predator finally having caught a reasonable view of her feast, Izzy follows the figure down the opposite way, walking at an equal pace to the woman on the other side of the divide, their stroll taking them directly toward the same end of the lane. Quickly hurrying her walk, Izzy turns the corner and awaits the woman’s reveal on the other side, her hopes lowering the moment the redhead finally appears. Not familiar with her appearance, Izzy considers the search a failure, her mind playing tricks on her, wishful thinking outsmarting her again. “Sorry” Izzy mutters aloud, stepping aside to allow the stranger an unimpeded return to her shopping. > 26th June, 2030 | Andrew’s Perspective < “How’s Daria and the kids?” Morgan asks, leading the trio into the home, her hand gesturing for them to take a seat in the living room. “Well, there’s a few layers to that” Andrew remarks, his voice fading as he considers how to answer. “Olivia’s doing well” Andrew begins, his youngest daughter’s whereabouts being the easiest to speak on, “her specialists say she’ll be able to start regular school after next year.” “Oh wow, that’s great!” Morgan replies, a smile on her face as she takes a seat on the couch, “I bet Daria’s rubbed in how wrong I was for the last few years?” With a light chuckle, Morgan sinks into her seat, Andrew’s head hung as his hat presses into his hand, the tone taking a somber approach. “Daria didn’t make it past the birth” Andrew remarks, watching Morgan’s swell expression switch to empathy, “she just wanted to make sure I gave ‘Liv a good life.” “Oh, Andy- I’m so sorry” Morgan replies, watching her ex-husband take the seat opposite her, a convincing condolence offered to the man. “What about Sophia? How’s she doing?” Morgan asks, stumbling upon the true nature of the man’s visit, though, already having secretly assumed that the moment she answered the door. “So- that’s actually why I’m here” Andrew remarks, the woman’s face growing cold, the worry beginning to present itself. “Sophie’s missing” Andrew blurts out, no lead up to the declaration, nothing offered before to soften the blow, just the brunt force of the statement being voiced aloud left to serve its purpose. “Wh… What?” Morgan asks, a smile coming over her face accompanied by a weak chuckle, playing it off as a joke, “you’re kidding, right?” His head still held forward, Andrew’s eyes drift to the top of his head, the woman looking toward him with her smile slowly fading, the amusement beginning to dissipate from one moment to the next. “Andrew, you’re joking” Morgan replies, her question sounding more like a warning, though her ex-husband refuses to go back on what he’d said. “Missing like she was taken away? Missing like she ran away?” Morgan continues, offering options before concluding, “missing how?” “She was taken from school three months ago” Andrew remarks, the widened eyes of Morgan shooting a fear down his spine the way it used to when they were married. “Three fucking months ago!?” Morgan shouts, her mouth agape as she stands out of her chair, the man returning to his feet with arms out. “No, don’t touch me!” Morgan shouts, swatting his thick fingers away from her arms, “why are you only telling me this now!?” “I only just found out where you were yesterday!” Andrew replies, the woman immediately calling his bluff. “I’ve been on the radar since the day I was born, Andrew!” Morgan shouts, pulling away from the man as Hugh and George hold him back, fearing for his safety, “did you not find me until yesterday, or did you not try to find me until yesterday?” Opening his mouth, Andrew fails to come up with an answer, the man’s mind racing with a reply that he doesn’t want to say aloud, but soon forces himself to. “I didn’t try until yesterday” Andrew remarks, the woman’s angry posture turning into a stoic disassociation, her eyes looking upon Andrew like he were a failure. “Get out” Morgan suddenly says, refusing to share her home with the man any longer than she already has. “Morgan, please” Andrew replies, failing to find common ground with the woman, her refusal to hear him out roughing the last remaining path Andrew had to walk along. “Get out, Andrew!” Morgan shouts, her finger lifted toward the door, pointing him in the direction of the exit, “never come back!” With a sigh, Andrew hangs his head and turns away, both George and Hugh trying to talk him into staying. “She’s not going to talk now- forget it” Andrew remarks, admitting his failure to the pair of men, both of which look at the woman with a curious glance, uncertain over what emotions were genuine and which were not. Giving into the request, George and Hugh accompany him through the front door, the locking of the divider behind them not sitting well with the unconvinced pair. > 18th January, 2031 < “That was the first day I started questioning exactly what Morgan had been telling me” Sophie explains, looking into thin air with her head shaking, “it was the first time I caught her in a lie.” One finger raised, Caden asks the woman to explain her stance, how she couldn’t have had proof of Morgan’s many lies until that day. “Well, even that day, I had gotten lucky” Sophie clarifies, “I had whatever freedoms I wanted now… She trusted me. That store was the start of the end.” “Did you know Izzy was looking for you?” Andrew asks, looking at his daughter beside him, the girl locking eyes with him and nodding. “I knew after I was leaving the store, and when I was sitting in the van” Sophie replies, recalling the moments she saw the woman, who it took a moment to recognize, returning to her vehicle. “I was confused, because I didn’t know why I’d be running into Izzy in the middle of Gentry of all places’ Sophie explains, “so it took me a second to think.” “And what did you think about?” Caden asks, interrupting the dialogue, presenting Sophie with questions to answer on both fronts, the answer to the most recent question intriguing the boy with the clipboard. “I thought about going up to her and saying something along the lines of the truth,” Sophie remarks, looking to the floor on her right, a moment of silence dawning over her, “but then I realized that I hadn’t actually figured out what day it was.” Recalling the bare interior of her mother’s home, Sophie explains that there was no television, a lack of electronics entirely, and a paper calendar set in the year 2031 months prior. “If there was anything that could have told me the time of day, Morgan got rid of it as soon as she spotted it” Sophie remembers, a smile coming over her face when she recalls reading the receipt for her items in the parking lot, the date of 26th June, 2030 prompting her eyes to widen. “And that was it?” Caden interjects once more, “the moment you saw the date, you knew your mother was lying about everything?” Looking toward her friend, a disappointed Sophie shakes her head in refusal, clarifying his discovery. “I knew she had lied about some things” Sophie explains, her reason for deciding to stay with her mother not having been due to the time passed since she was introduced to captivity, “I needed to prove she wasn’t sick.” “You could’ve come home” Andrew replies, his daughter looking at him, a somber feeling of guilt for having allowed this suffering to continue building within Sophie’s core, “why did you choose to stay?” Still not convinced his daughter had a good reason, Andrew remains persistent about discovering the truth, wishing to make sense of his daughter’s choice. With a shake of her head, Sophie admits that she didn’t have a reason that makes up for the search she let continue. “I looked down at the receipt, and Izzy’s car was gone by the time I looked up” Sophie recalls, a weight pressing down on her chest in that moment just as it had in the parking lot, “I just decided to move on.” Shaking his head, Andrew presses his back against the chair before standing from his seat and returning it to the corner, the climbing mood of the room they began with plummeting back down to its somber tone, Sophie left to her own as Andrew returns to the doorway. “Let’s get back to the questions” Caden exclaims, the conversation derailing too greatly for him to be okay with, eyes reading the next line before his mouth can speak it. “What was it like when you went home, Sophie?” Caden asks, forced to specify the name, Andrew’s lack of a presence in front of the camera any longer making it necessary. > 26th June, 2030 | Sophie’s Perspective < “Hi honey!” Morgan exclaims, racing out of the living room to meet her daughter in the kitchen, the entry from the garage slamming shut behind a returning Sophie. “How was-?” Morgan begins, interrupted by her daughter looking at a receipt, a question as to what’s happening prompting Sophie to read the date again. “26th June, 2030” Sophie repeats, her mother beginning to realize the error of her ways, “it hasn’t been a year- it’s been three fucking months.” “Honey, I can explain” Morgan calmly tells her daughter, Sophie left having none of it, the possibility of an explanation being shot down as quickly as it was offered. “I don’t want the excuses… you’ve been lying to me about how long it’s been since the day you took me!” Sophie shouts, her mother quickly trying to explain herself anyway. “You wouldn’ have stayed if you knew how long it’d been!” Morgan shouts, both hands outstretched toward her offspring, who begins walking after her. Tilting her head, Sophie dulls out her mother’s explanation, not hearing a word of it, instead choosing to inspect her mind, recalling every detail she’s given her and reading further into it than she once did. In a moment of clarity, Sophie’s stoic expression brings a silence over her mother, worry beginning to creep into Morgan’s head that the situation has become too big for her to control. Backed against her counter, Morgan slides her hand into a drawer and reaches her fingers around the handle of a knife, her daughter continuing to advance upon her, silently staring at her with a deranged look. “Honey, please calm down!” Morgan shouts, the four words being the first Sophie's heard since going into her trance, ears perking up to her mother’s words, the young girl finally realizing that she’d backed her kidnapper into a corner. “I would’ve stayed because you’re my mom” Sophie suddenly mutters, Morgan’s eyes widening with surprise, confused and appreciative of the gesture. “I chose to stay, and you chose to keep lying to me” Sophie explains, pointing out her mother’s pleased reaction to see her come back when she never had to, an open road for her to explore without ever having to turn back. “I could’ve driven back home and explained everything, but I chose not to and you noticed that” Sophie explains, “and what did I get for it in return? I get lied to. How is that supposed to sit well with me?” Letting go of the knife’s handle, Morgan places both hands out before her, illustrating the dissatisfaction she has with herself, apologizing profusely. “Honey, I’ll never lie to you again, I swear!” Morgan remarks, watching as her daughter slowly nods, pleased with this result. “Okay” Sophie replies, nodding to the woman and slowly backing away, her feet carrying her toward the staircase that leads to her room. “Goodnight, mom” Sophie says, the entire conversation having been tense from start to finish, Morgan’s uncertainty over her daughter’s convincing white-washed by her pleasure to be on what appears to be the same page. Turning toward the empty insides of her bedroom, Sophie’s back presses against the door as the perfectly-conditioned notebook waits for her on the comforter. With a smirk, Sophie climbs into bed with her eyes staring out through the curtains beside her window, the moonlight covering her face. No longer in a position to be lied to, Sophie puts on a concerned smile, satisfied with the new position she holds in the home, finally in the perfect position to obtain the truth. > 18th January, 2031 < “So that’s what it was about?” Andrew asks from the far corner of the room, shaking his head in disappointment, the girl knowing and accepting her father’s position, “leverage?” With a deep breath, Sophie admits part of her reasoning to have been for just that, the ability to question her mom with assurance that she’d receive the honest truth. “But there’s another side of me that couldn’t leave out of the blue like that” Sophie admits, that part never having been truly identified. “She’s your mother” Caden interrupts, both Andrew and Sophie looking toward him immediately, an unpleasant, yet understanding tone reflecting in his voice. “That’s not why” Sophie remarks, adamant about this refusal in a way she had yet to be throughout the duration of their questioning in the bunker, this refusal more out of desire for it not to be true than desire for it being recognized as true. “Isn’t it?” Caden replies, arguing his side whilst watching the girl’s face shrink up in realization of its many truths, a difficult opinion to argue against, despite her best wishes. “She didn’t choose to leave your life, she was kicked out of it- for better or for worse” Caden explains, Sophie’s eyes falling the more he continues speaking, “she gave birth to you, she’s related to you by blood, she nursed you into this world… She’s your mother, and you accepted that deep down.” Parting her lips, Sophie attempts to speak before falling silent, her mouth held open despite the lack of words coming out, her father waiting for the rebuttal from afar. Slowly putting her lips back together, Sophie looks at the boy across from her, one lifted eyebrow and a shrug offered from his clipboard-occupying body. “It’s okay, Sophie” Caden mutters, the girl beginning to realize how correct he is, feeling a great deal of disappointment in herself for playing a part in this. “Whether it was your mother or not, you’re a victim… And you were manipulated with every chance Morgan got- right?” Caden explains, a somewhat judgmental look in his face as his head shakes and teeth appear in an empathetic smile, “none of that changes the fact that she’s your mother.” Hanging her head, Sophie accepts the conclusion as the truth she never wanted to admit, finally facing her reasons for staying, challenging them with enough strength to hold herself accountable. “She was going to die without ever getting to know me” Sophie remarks, looking up at Caden and her father, a pain hidden behind the consonant sounds leaving her lips, “how was I supposed to be okay with that?” Finally facing her fears, Sophie admits her undeserved empathy toward her mother, feeling like abandoning Morgan in her final year would be like killing the woman herself. “I wouldn’t have been okay with that, right?” Sophie asks, looking to her friend for answers, Caden lifting himself out of his chair to kneel beside the girl, his hand resting upon her shoulder. “You would’ve blamed yourself either way” Caden admits, speaking from his own personal experience, Andrew left watching over this encounter, disappointed in himself for understanding so easily. “It’s okay to admit that you stayed because she was your mom” Caden explains, acknowledging the future gain of leverage, admitting that the root reason doesn’t have to be one she spends her life running away from. “Morgan didn’t deserve your care, but you gave it to her anyway” Caden says, pulling Sophie’s face toward his own, forcing her to look at him, “that doesn’t make you the bad guy here.” With a single tear, Sophie nods to the boy’s explanation, her head pulled into his shoulder for a hug as Andrew walks in soon after to join the embrace, barriers falling just in time for the most crucial pieces of the story to proceed. == Generation Alpha ==
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} The following events take place through the months of April, May, and June, 2030, and the 18th of January, 2031 {
> April 2030 < “Caden, honey?” Rebecca calls out, gently pushing his bedroom door in, finding him laid on his side, head sunken into the pillow, “I know it sucks, but we can’t keep missing school.” Already having spent the last two weeks speaking very little, Caden sighs as he turns his body toward his mother, his point offered. “I can’t go back to that school if Sophie’s not there” Caden replies, his mother folding her hands by her lap, “it’s just not possible.” Her head hanging as she approaches her son’s bed, Rebecca takes a seat beside Caden’s feet and places her hand on his knee, looking him in the eyes as she speaks with a soft voice. “You’re not wrong, honey” Rebecca explains, knowing how little her son’s drive to return to normal is, “but we have no clue how long Sophie’s going to be gone for… You can’t just put your life on hold until she gets back.” Looking away, Caden’s eyes travel to the window just beside his bed, the sunlight draping the yellow house just beside his own home and partially covering his own face. “We don’t even know if she is coming back” Caden replies, his voice carrying defeat, at loss for hope of any kind. “We can’t start thinking like that honey, it’s only been two weeks” Rebecca remarks, quickly interrupted by her son, who counters her argument, almost wanting to feel like hope is futile. “The Stewart’s told Mr. Carrion that they didn’t have a lot to work with right after it happened” Caden explains, pushing himself up to a seat just beside his pillow, looking his mother in the eye, “what do you think’s gonna to happen the longer she’s gone?” Putting her lips together, Rebecca hangs her head, swiping the loose hair over her ear, unable to argue the logic in her son’s stance. “The moment I get out of the car at that school, I’ll be a zombie” Caden explains, his mother letting him continue to ramble, “just walking the halls pointlessly, one class to another, not learning anything, not doing any work.” With a sigh, Rebecca pats her son’s knee, offering him a sympathetic smile, before doubling down on her stance. “You have to go to school” Rebecca replies, her son’s eyes rolling as he slumps back into his pillow, “we’re doing everything we can, and you need to do that too.” Leaving his room, Rebecca pushes the door open and turns to walk down the hallway, a final glance at a motivation-less Caden slithering out of bed prompting her to freeze in the moment. Her hands pushing against the doorframe, propping herself up, Rebecca watches her son, a smile coming over her face. “What’s wrong?” Caden asks, looking at his mother’s confusing stare, the woman gently shaking her head from one side to the other. “Nothing, sweetheart” Rebecca remarks, flashing her son another smile, just appreciating the certainty that he’s safe in that moment before returning to her morning routine. Dragging himself through the halls of the building hours later, Caden wanders through the school before finding his room, entering a familiar class with a different aura than it’s ever had before. “Good morning students!” Mrs. Danielson exclaims, a roar of greetings through the speakers in the back of the room far out-matching the in-school students. “Welcome back” Izzy whispers toward the loss-for-hope boy, her fist held out in a gesture Caden would allow to go unanswered. “Thanks” Caden replies, both hands remaining fixed to his desk, Izzy’s hand slowly retreating as an in-home student begins to speak up. “Where’ve you been, Caden?” a familiarly obnoxious voice calls out, prompting the returning student to turn around, glaring at the small box he finds carrying a smug smile. “Logan, please raise your hand to speak” Mrs. Danielson calls out, attempting to stop the outburst before it can have the chance to begin. “But he’s been gone for weeks!” Logan exclaims, watching Caden’s unamused stare offered to him, his face slowly moving over his shoulder, “what’s wrong with wanting to know where he’s been this whole time?” “Fuck off, Logan!” another online student calls out, taking Caden’s side in the inevitable conflict, “his friend was stolen.” Without a care for the predicament, Logan’s sheltered response begins to light a fire under Caden, Izzy reaching out for the boy's arm as he removes himself from his seat, quickly having it swatted away. “She shouldn’t have gotten stolen then!” Logan shouts, watching Caden approach the monitor at the back of the room, “I wouldn’t have let myself get stolen!” Nostrils flaring, Caden watches the multiple different boxes begin to talk over themselves, his mind going to dark places, eyes never once leaving the box presenting Logan’s screen. As the online students split into two halves, one side arguing in Logan’s favor, the others arguing in the favor of Caden and company, the in-school student approaches the speakers and reaches behind them, his fingers sliding around the back before a wire is caught between his fingers. With a smile, Caden rips the wire out and immediately silences the at-home students, not a single voice being carried through the stereo set, their silent boxes continuing to light up, signaling speakers that can no longer be heard. “Caden Nurse!” Mrs. Danielson shouts, looking up from her desk to find the boy standing beside the speaker setup, his eyes drifting toward her side of the room. “Thank god one of us had the gall to do it!” Mrs. Danielson shouts, her voice also unable to be heard by the students at home, her feet carrying her away from her own desk. “Now go to the bathroom to make it look like you’re in trouble” Mrs. Danielson whispers to Caden’s ear, taking the cord from his hand and pretending to be uncertain of how to resolve the situation. With a smile, Caden nods to himself, picking up his books and leaving the room, the woman feigning trouble with the equipment, an easy silence coming over the classroom for the first time in too long. = Generation Alpha is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = > 18th January, 2031 < “Every day school would be dismissed, I would sit in the green and look at the street for an hour” Caden explains, his face bathed in the white hue of the fluorescent tubes, leant slightly to one side through the duration of his time in the chair. “Why?” Sophie asks, her moment to interject presenting itself, the question she raises one that Caden himself doesn’t have a definitive answer to. “I don’t think I had any real reason, honestly” Caden remarks, a smile on his face recalling the torment, helped now that it has come to a resolution, “it’s not like I expected you to just show up one day, straight out of thin air.” Squinting her eyes, Sophie kicks one leg over the other, head tilted to one side. “Were you hoping I’d just show up one day?” Sophie asks, the question raised with a slightly humorous tone, though rooted in a genuine intrigue. “I hoped you would” Caden replies, his eyes widened and hopeful, slowly narrowing as his mind moves on, “but you never did.” With a sigh, Caden looks toward Andrew, explaining that the man with his arms spread in the doorway was the figure responsible for finding the answers that would lead to Sophie, a truth that allows Caden to hold himself to a lesser standard. “I just went to school every day” Caden explains, his voice becoming soft, almost presenting itself as a whisper at times, “I went to school while everyone else stayed up, day and night, looking for you.” Her head hung, Sophie stops the questions for a moment, leaning forward in her seat with her arms draped over the clipboard. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to stop living your life because of me” Sophie interjects, watching Caden look up to her, grateful eyes returned. “That’s why I didn’t stop” Caden remarks, a smile appearing from behind the cover of his lips, allowing him to wipe a tear away from his eye, “but I never stopped thinking about you.” Clearing his throat, Caden recalls the nights he’d lay awake, watching the moonlight cast shadows over the side of the house just outside his window, becoming familiar with each pattern the longer his sleepless nights would become. “It felt wrong to feel comfortable in my own bed when you were gone” Caden explains, looking away from the camera, eyes directed at the ground, “it felt like I wasn’t worthy of a bed.” Leaning back in her chair, Sophie lets Caden continue to speak, his ramblings carrying him inadvertently into the next question, where he recalls the first full month of her captivity. > May 2030 < “You sight-seeing, or are you waiting for something?” Izzy calls out, approaching the green, her words being directed toward Caden, who looks at her in surprise at first. “I’ve been sitting here every day since I came back” Caden replies, sitting at a stone-carved picnic table, eyes looking from one side of the road just ahead to the other, “haven’t you noticed?” With a chuckle, Izzy throws her bag at the table and takes a seat beside Caden, her hands folded atop her denim-fashioned backpack. “Yeah, I have… You spend every afternoon here” Izzy remarks, Caden not laying his eyes on her following the greeting until she concludes her statement, finally earning his attention, “...I’d know that because I spend every morning here.” “You spend every morning here?” Caden asks, looking at the woman in almost disbelief, prompting Izzy to pull her head back. “You’re aware that there are people that wake up earlier than twenty minutes before school, right?” Izzy jokes, citing her mother’s early schedule as a reason to be out of the house sooner than anyone else. “I’m here about an hour before school starts every single day” Izzy explains, pausing for a moment, “and then I sit here and wait.” “Did you do that before Sophie went missing?” Caden replies, looking toward the girl, who squints as she looks ahead, the shade still allowing brief spots of blinding sunlight to engulf the green. “I’d sit in my car and listen to music” Izzy remarks, earning a chuckle out of Caden, one that she shares with him, the mood coming down as the laughter dies off, “now I feel like I owe it to her… To spend my mornings here, just waiting for the doors to open.” With a nod, Caden looks back to the road, traveling the asphalt back and forth, pretending he’s watching a car drive forward, then stop, then reverse and repeat the process all over again. “Honestly, it doesn’t get easier, it just gets more numbing” Izzy mutters, prompting Caden to look toward her for context, “you just sit here and wait… Not for any reason, but you just choose to. It doesn’t change anything, doesn’t make it better or worse. It just makes it common.” A breath of air leaving through his nose, Caden hangs his head, nodding in agreement with what Izzy illustrates, viewing their respective stays at the green as a punishment of sorts, a sentencing to limbo. “What do you think’s gonna happen when she comes back?” Izzy asks, Caden’s face not once turning toward her, instead hanging to his folded hands without a word, not wanting to admit out loud that the possibilities of such an occasion not happening do, indeed, exist. “I don’t know” Caden replies, his voice soft in a way that Izzy had not heard often, a genuinity presenting itself in his honest answer, “it’s really hard to imagine something like that.” Without another word, Caden sits in silence, continuing to glance toward each end of the road, the wind ruffling through the leaves above. Calmed by the sounds, Izzy remains silent herself, allowing her stay beside Caden to continue without another word, the breeze bringing ease upon the pair. > 18th January, 2031 < “Izzy and I began talking to each other more often” Caden explains, immediately clarifying that nothing had ever gotten romantic or sexual, “it was merely a typical, ‘we both have a lot of guilt in common’, kind of thing.” With a smile, Sophie remarks “it’s okay” in a soft tone of voice, her head tilted, watching Caden’s expression sour out of guilt. “Okay, we relied on each other a lot” Caden explains, Andrew mustering a smile as his daughter chuckles, “we sort of- loosely- became dependent on each other.” With a nod, Sophie conceals her smile, her intentions set on asking the next question, even with a smirk peering from between her lips. “We shut ourselves away from everyone else!” Caden explains, doing his best to give reasoning behind their curious relationship in the months since, “we only had each other to rely on eventually.” “It’s fine, it’s totally fine!” Sophie replies, quelling the conversation before finally succeeding at bringing up the next question, “when, if ever, did you feel like I wasn’t coming back?” His humor-laiden smile quickly fading away, Caden hangs his head in guilt once again, this look something that Sophie takes notice of. “It’s okay- I don’t blame you” Sophie mutters, Caden’s eyes looking up toward the girl on the other side of the room before the rest of his head does. “The start” Caden remarks, Sophie’s eyebrows quickly perking up, Andrew tilting his head in confusion for a moment. “It’s not that I ever thought ‘that’s it, she’s never coming back!’ at anypoint” Caden clarifies, putting his back against the seat as he takes a deep breath, “but you vanished into thin air, and it felt a lot like you left little behind to find you with.” “You thought there wasn’t enough to follow?” Sophie asks, unsuccessfully trying to add substance to the claim. “No, I felt like…” Caden begins, pausing as he rolls his head, looking away from the camera, locking his eyes on Sophie in order to finish his point, “it felt like you had disappeared in such a split second that, with everything you just left behind, nothing was going to go back to normal.” Letting her crossed-leg fall back to the floor, Sophie allows Caden to continue, the boy explaining that it didn’t feel like she’d ever come back. “It was so sudden that I couldn’t imagine what coming back would be like” Caden explains, citing how different she and the people around them would be perceived and cared for, “nothing would have been the way it was, and I couldn’t imagine what such a change would look like… Which meant I couldn’t imagine what you coming back would look like.” Tilting her head, Sophie places the clipboard on the floor, watching Caden lean forward, his elbows pressing against his knees, attention firmly on the next question asked, visibly one not listed on the sheet. “When did you think I was gone for good?” Sophie asks, Caden’s eyes falling, his hands coming together in his lap. “June” Caden replies, Sophie letting out a sigh beneath her breath, unable to be heard by Caden or her father, “that’s when your dad started losing hope.” Turning around, Sophie looks to her father, his head hanging low, never having lost hope completely, but agreeing that June would have been one of its lowest points. “In three months, Izzy and I started looking at the Stewart’s as close friends rather than the wealthy assholes that raised Logan” Caden explains, the bond between Sophie’s family and his own increasing in such a short amount of time as well, “three months felt like eight years.” Nodding, Sophie agrees with the point made, her friend leant forward in his chair, thinking of his next words carefully. “Izzy said your dad never stopped looking for you, but he had run out of most of his options by June or so” Caden explains, loose hairs hanging over his forehead, “at that point, I tried to stop tormenting myself.” > June 2030 < “Hey, where’d you go yesterday?” Izzy asks, purposely bumping into Caden in the halls between classes. “I went home- had to catch up on homework” Caden remarks, the curious inquiries rattling through Izzy’s head bubbling to the surface through her words. “You not hanging out at the green anymore?” Izzy asks, surprised when Caden replies in kind. “Like you said, Mr. Carrion’s running low on places to look, and Sophie’s been gone for three months” Caden explains, shoveling a book into his bag, “I’ve gotta start drawing a line between waiting for Sophie to come back, and tormenting myself for playing a part in her going missing.” Pulling the boy by the arm, Izzy stops in the middle of the hallway, asking him if that’s what he viewed their post-class visits as. “I mean, that’s why I started sitting there after school… Isn’t that why you started sitting there?” Caden remarks, Izzy affirming his assumption. “That’s not the only reason I stop there after school now, though” Izzy replies, a smile coming over her face, a hint of embarrassment presenting itself, “I like spending time with you there, too.” Mouth agape, Caden looks down both ends of the hallway before pulling Izzy off to the side, explaining his stance. “I like spending time with you, too… I absolutely do” Caden explains, wrapping his left hand around the single strap of his backpack, “but I started sitting there as a way to keep myself from forgetting about her… It feels more like I’ve been punishing myself by sitting there, and I don’t want to just keep punishing myself until she comes back.” Lowering her head, Izzy thinks to herself before making a new suggestion, one that sits well with the boy before her. “Let’s hang out somewhere else after school then” Izzy suggests, a small sandwich shop around the corner immediately coming to mind. “I know what you’re saying, and I think the same thing” Izzy explains, finding common ground with the boy, “as much as I want Sophie to come back, I can’t keep punishing myself until she does either.” With a nod, Caden agrees to meet at the shop by the day’s end, walking away from the girl with a bad feeling in his stomach. > 18th January, 2031 < “It all felt rushed, there’s no hiding that” Caden explains, parts of his memory from the time being lost due to how quick everything was unfolding, “but I knew I needed to slow down.” Crossing his arms, Caden wraps his fingers around each of his biceps, pulling his folded limbs close to his chest as he sits back in his seat, feet planted firmly on the concrete ground. “You were gone for almost six more months after that, and it felt like you could have been gone for a lot longer back then” Caden explains, finally locking eyes with Sophie again, “I wouldn’t have survived waiting there, every day, without being able to move on.” Forming a smile with her puckered lips, Sophie reaches down and picks up the clipboard, reading off the next question before doing away with the list again, another better-suited question popping into her head. “Did you ever wish I wasn’t going to come back?” Sophie asks, the face of Caden shrinking, his head pulled back as he questions whether or not she’s serious. “I’m not asking if you wanted me to never come back, just if it would’ve been easier at any point if I didn’t” Sophie explains, again met with the same response from Caden. “Things had changed a lot in a short time, but I always wanted you to come back” Caden remarks, “I still couldn’t get a good night’s sleep until we found you.” Nodding to herself, Sophie reaches down for the clipboard, reading the next question silently to herself, only for her thought process to be interrupted by a question of Caden’s own, met at her own game. “Did you think there was anyone that didn’t want you to come back?” Caden inquires, watching Sophie’s eyes freeze upon him, the clipboard wavering in the air, held between the fingers on her one hand. “I wondered” Sophie replies, admitting that plenty of less-flattering thoughts ran through her head whilst she was cooped in a box with nothing to do but think to herself. “It’s like what happens when someone dies… a lot of people wonder what their friends and family would do after they’re gone” Sophie explains, shrugging her shoulders, her head shaking with them, “I just wondered every now and then if people actually wanted me back.” “Everyone wanted you back, Sophie” Andrew quips from afar, his daughter turning her head over her shoulders, eyes placed upon him. “I know… And I know no one stopped fighting for me” Sophie explains, lips parting as she thinks to herself, recalling the questions she’d wondered, specifically about the people she cared most deeply for, “but it sounds like, with how fast everything began changing, it would have been easier if I stayed gone.” “Is that what you’re getting out of this?” Caden asks, watching the girl’s head turn back toward him, his eyebrows raised, trying to make sense of what the girl is saying, “that it was easier when you were gone?” Looking down, Sophie thinks to herself, both Andrew and Caden waiting patiently for her answer, surprised at what they hear. “Once upon a time, yes” Sophie remarks, not feeling happy with her answer, but responding with it out of honesty, “just, not anymore.” “We always wanted you back, honey” Andrew replies from behind again, Sophie not turning toward him this time, instead, her eyes frozen to the ground. “I know, dad” the girl remarks, a pain carried in her voice, eyes returning to the boy before the camera. “When was the first time you thought ‘we might have a lead now’?” Sophie wonders, speaking aloud the next question on the clipboard, trying to redirect the conversation back to its original intent. “That same day at the shop” Caden replies, the intrigue visually present in Sophie’s change in expression, “Izzy just sort of had this lightbulb go off in her head.” > June 2030 < “How does it feel?” Izzy asks, halfway through with her meatball-filled sandwich, Caden left looking through the window, unsure of how to respond. “Good to start trying to forgive myself, but bad for breaking my routine of not forgiving myself” Caden remarks, still feeling the lingering sensation in his core, a burning guilt eating away at him, “it’s easier to deal with since you’re here.” Charming Izzy with the one liner, Caden continues to enjoy his lunch while the girl speaks about random findings she notices through her daily activities. Rambling on about the school campus and how empty it is, Izzy makes a quip about easier access to the internet in recent months, something Caden comes to full agreement on. “Total fucking deadzone in that place forever!” Caden groans, mentioning his appreciation for whatever fixed the problem. “We’re right up the street from a cell tower, how thick do those walls need to be to shut off every little bit of connection?” Izzy mutters, her point immediately argued against by Caden. “It wasn’t the walls, the internet would’ve worked outside if it was” Caden replies, taking another bite out of his sandwich, Izzy immediately raising the million-dollar question. “Then why the fuck was it so fucking awful!?” Izzy asks aloud, a shoulder shrug from Caden allowing a moment of silence to come over the table. In a second of questioning, Izzy’s humor-filled face begins to sink into curiosity, a question looming over her that Caden can read in her face. “What’re you thinking, Iz?” Caden asks, the girl looking up at him, having been staring off at nothing while a question is raised. “When did the problems stop?” Izzy asks, Caden looking off to think, not sensing anything off about the question at first, nor noticing any ulterior motive behind it either. “A couple months, I guess?” Caden remarks, shrugging his shoulders as he sinks his teeth into his sandwich once more, “why?” he concludes. “Because Sophie disappeared a couple of months ago” Izzy replies, watching Caden’s bite suddenly halt, his teeth still in the bread when his eyes narrow. “Wait, are you saying the connection was fucked up because of Sophie?” Caden asks with no urgency or humor. “Doesn’t it seem super fucking weird that the problems would stop just after one of the students was nabbed?” Izzy asks, leaping out of her seat in a hurry as Caden remains at the table, thinking of his answer. “Where are you going?” Caden asks, watching the girl quickly hurry for the exit. “I’ve gotta go see Sophie’s dad!” Izzy exclaims, walking through the front door with the sound of the bell just overhead accompanying her exit. Left confused at his table, Caden finishes his meal and approaches his own car, allowing the guide to take him back home. On a backroad with minimal traffic around, Caden rests in the driver’s seat, watching the scenery pass him by from the comfort of his leather-finished chair. Thinking about the point Izzy had made earlier, Caden begins to lose himself in memories of himself and Sophie, thinking back to fond thoughts. Overwhelmed by the recollections running through his mind, Caden thinks of the request made toward him months prior, hand gripping at the seatbelt. Pulling the strap over his chest, Caden discards the car’s warning of the vehicle’s shift into manual mode, quickly reaching toward the key and turning it in the ignition. Accompanied by a countdown, Caden presses his foot lightly against the pedal and takes control of the car, the steering wheel clutched in his grasp. With a smile, Caden presses his finger upon the button of his door, lowering the window to allow a cool wave of air running through his hair, his phone beginning to buzz at the appearance of a phone call. Leaning back in his seat, Caden continues to press the pedal further toward the floor, pushing the car to higher speeds, gently turning the wheel with slight turns in the road, imagining the sounds of Sophie’s joyful cheers as he continues to direct the vehicle. Looking out at the sky, Caden finds the calming orange waves through the vast blue expanse, puffy clouds scattered throughout the air. The inside of his vehicle bathed in the glowing sunlight, Caden continues to disregard the buzzing phone, feeling his hair whip in the breeze, the roaring sounds of the wind that swept past his window bring a smile to his face. In the moment, for the first time in a long time, the knot in Caden’s stomach untangles, allowing him to feel freedom again. == Generation Alpha == } The following events take place through the months of April, May, and June, 2030, and the 18th of January, 2031 {
> 18th January, 2031 < “Did you ever find out if she was telling the truth?” Caden wonders aloud, interjecting his own question into the conversation. “About which part?” Sophie replies, her eyes falling onto the boy opposite the room from her, the camera no longer her primary driven focus. “The Huntington’s” Caden replies, the girl’s eyes falling to the concrete floor beneath her feet, “she was treated for it, but never diagnosed with it… So did you ever find out?” Slick lips parted, the fluorescent lights above reflecting off their now-glossy coat, Sophie sits in silence, the only answer coming from her shaking head. From one side to another, Sophie refuses, prompting a follow up question to be raised regarding the same tone. “Do you think she was lying about it?” Caden asks, the girl’s face turned away from him, but her eyes steadily held in his direction, “or was that one of the things you believed?” With a smirk, Sophie kicks her foot over her leg and leans back in her chair, not caring about the presence of the camera for the first time since taking her seat back. “I don’t really know anymore” Sophie replies, crossing her arms as her eyes veer toward the far corner of the room, “she told me so many things, some true, some not… I stopped being able to figure out which was which.” With a nod, Caden looks back to his clipboard, Sophie concluding her point without his eyes returning to her. “I’m pretty sure that was the point” Sophie explains, Caden reading the next question to himself as she finishes, “ultimately I wouldn’t ask questions anymore.” Squinting, Caden reads the next question to himself time after time again, lost as to what the paper is referring to.”Call in the third party?” Caden finally reads aloud, looking toward the girl, confused. “Dad” Sophie calls, watching her father’s head pull up, Sophie’s eyes already upon him just as Caden turns around, the man soon realizing what he’s being asked of. “No- honey… I can’t” Andrew responds, his daughter standing out of her chair without a word, approaching her father with one hand held out. “It’s okay” Sophie says, her voice soft and understanding, “but if I can come here, so can you.” With a sigh, Andrew tries to refuse the request, shaking his head until his feet find themselves atop the concrete layering, his body moving further into the room with every pull. Not wanting to partake in the sharing of conversations any more than he already has, Andrew begrudgingly allows his daughter to lead him toward her chair, his hips lowering onto the seat before the camera, head darting toward all sides of the room before his eyes latch onto the lens. With a nod, Sophie takes a few steps away from her father before walking back to the door, where she stands in the afternoon sunlight, both hands pressed against the doorframe. With her shadow casting onto the ground of the room both her father and best friend occupy, Sophie watches over Caden’s further inquiries, the next question putting her own upon the man himself. “What were the months before the summer like?” Caden asks, Andrew’s struggle to answer interrupted by the woman in the doorway, who pushes her father’s attention to the camera. “Please speak into the camera” Sophie asks, her father’s disgruntled face relaxing, not wishing to go against the wishes his daughter holds, giving into the frustration of the situation and turning toward the camera, answering to the best of his abilities. = Generation Alpha is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = > April 2030 < “You need to settle down a bit, Andy” Anne explains, taking a seat beside the concerned father, a glass of wine in his hand. “I know you’re going through a lot, and I know that prick in the suit really deserved those shots” Anne explains, shaking her head in recollection of the last few weeks, “but you’re gonna put yourself in the grave before we can find Sophie if you keep running like this.” Dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, a soak-covered Andrew returns the glass of wine to the woman’s hand, thanking her for the consideration. “At some point, I’ll be out there running and I’ll catch the sight of her” Andrew explains, the woman beside him looking away, knowing nothing she can say will derail his intention to find Sophie. “Andrew, it’s been nearly a month since she was taken” Anne explains, her hand pressing against the man’s chest, feeling the heat of his breath run down upon her face, “if she were somewhere out there, she’d be found and right back here by now.” Taking in heavy breaths, Andrew looks down at her, challenging her statement, taking it in the least-intended way. “So you’re saying she’s not getting found” Andrew replies, watching Anne shake her head until her neck becomes stiff, eyes wide once Andrew follows up his statement, “that she’s dead now?” “No, that is not at all what I am saying” Anne responds, gently pushing the man back onto the couch,”if it were Logan out there- in trouble like that- no matter how much time had passed, he’d never be dead to me until there was a body.” Rejoining the man on the couch, Anne pulls Andrew’s face toward her, making sure he maintains eye contact as she speaks. “You’ve got a daughter to look out for, one that I shouldn’t have to remind you needs extra attention” Anne explains, “you can’t just go out running for six hours at a time with the stress you’ve got without the risk of dropping dead on the side of the road.” Sinking into his seat, Andrew watches Hugh and George round the corner, joining Anne and himself in the foyer. “Wrenich decided not to press charges, my wallet is making sure of that” Hugh explains, placing the headset phone back into its holder, “but you’re not allowed on school campus for the rest of the semester.” Shrugging, Andrew shakes his head, not really caring about the consequences he’s been handed. “I assume Anne’s been trying to convince you to cool it down?” George calls back, Andrew turning to look at the man. “Is she speaking for her own opinions, or the opinions of everyone here?” Andrew asks, George and Hugh both remaining silent, giving him the answer non-verbally. “You’ve still got a kid here that needs you, and none of us are trained enough to know about autism” Hugh explains, promising to pay for whatever services are best-suitable, “but you’ve gotta stop running from your problems and start running back to her.” Approaching the father with a folded piece of paper, George lets the note fall into Andrew’s fingers, unfolding to reveal a pencil-written note in Olivia’s handwriting. Reading it silently to himself, Andrew’s posture goes from defensive and readied to softened and defeated, folding the note up once more and tossing it to the floor once done. Without another word, Andrew shakes his head, walking through the front door and leaving the group of parents on their lonesome. “Honey?” Andrew calls out, entering his home and throwing his jacket over the hook in the corner of the doorway, a thunderous set of footsteps coming in from the living room. “Daddy!” Olivia shouts, running into her father’s arms, nearly knocking over a light in the process. “Hey princess” Andrew replies, watching Elaine appear soon after, following the young girl she’s taken on more responsibility toward. “Thank you for spending extra time with her, Elaine” Andrew says, his daughter still held tightly in his arms, thankful for the work she’s done. “I know none of this is easy for you, Andrew” Elaine responds, her hand caressing his shoulder as he stands up, daughter carried in his arms, “I’m happy to help however I can.” Nodding, Andrew pulls the woman into his arms and gives her a hug, pressing his face into the nook of her neck, whispering ‘thank you’ again whilst holding back tears. “Hey, everything’s going to work out” Elaine replies, pulling away from the man, looking into his eyes with her hand on his cheek, “she’ll be back in her own bed soon enough, I promise you that.” “When is Sophie coming home?” Olivia asks, unable to understand the weighted emotions carried with such a question, her intentions well-meaning. With a sigh, Andrew pulls back from Olivia, looking her in the eyes and telling her the same answer he’s given since the first time the question was asked. “Soon, honey” Andrew responds, swiping her hair over her ear with a smile, “we’re working on it, okay?” > May, 2030 < Downing the last drop in his cup, Andrew waits in a silent room, children’s toys everywhere his eye can turn toward, a door that opens in the far corner of the room capturing his attention. “Andrew Carrion?” a woman calls out, prompting him to leave his seat, following her into the depths of the building he occupies at the moment. “Thank you for coming in on such short notice” the woman explains, “I assume you’ve already been given the basic rundown of how things will work?” With a silent nod, Andrew follows the woman into a dimly-lit room, a large window with two chairs sat before it in the front of the space, one chair already occupied by Elaine. With little vocal interaction, Andrew takes his coat off and places it over the back of his seat, watching his daughter play in the room they’re left to look into. “Olivia Amari?” a polite woman calls out, entering the room to find herself attacked with a large hug from the well-behaved youngest daughter. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Ms. Olivia” the woman greets, “do you remember my name?” With glee, Olivia answers the woman with accuracy, something her father takes joy in seeing from beyond her sight. “You’re Doctor Julia!” Olivia replies, a smile radiating from the medical professional, who holds her hand out for a high five. “Do you remember what we were talking about last week?” Julia wonders aloud, pulling a small chair out of the corner of the room and taking a seat on it, a leather-bound notebook carried in the space of her elbow. “I think we were talking about Sophie” Olivia responds, congratulated on her accuracy once more. “Do you remember what else were talking about?” Julia asks, watching Olivia quickly recall the second portion of their discussion. “We were talking about dad, but we talk about dad a lot, right?” Olivia replies, all in quick succession, something that lessens the genuine joy in Andrew’s smile from beyond the two-way mirror. “Do you remember why we were talking about your dad?” Julia asks, the rapidity of Olivia’s responses being something she’s trained at picking apart in a moment. “Because he doesn’t spend time with me anymore, and I don’t like that” Olivia responds, continuing to ramble, “because I miss my sister and my dad keeps running away too, so I only have Ms. Kirkpatrick.” The last of his smile fading away, Andrew continues to look on, Elaine not speaking a word, instead allowing him to fully confront what his preoccupation is doing to the daughter he still has to care for. “Do you want your dad around more?” Julia asks, Olivia quick to respond, a depressing truth being offered. “I miss my dad, but I miss my sister more” the young girl replies, sitting in a chair, fidgeting with her hands, unable to stand still, “my sister hasn’t been home in a long time and I don’t think she’s coming back.” Closing his eyes, Andrew listens into the rest of the conversation, unable to look at his daughter without being confronted with both ends of the truth. “Why don’t you think your sister is coming back, honey?” Julia wonders aloud, letting the girl speak, her ramblings eventually leading her toward different avenues of dialogue. “Because she hasn’t been home in weeks and that doesn’t happen a lot” Olivia responds, continuing to ruffle with her hands, “like, she goes to school after I leave and she comes back in the afternoon or at night, and Caden always brings her home.” “Do you like Caden?” Julia asks, Olivia shrugging at the question, answering it as best as she can. “He’s with my sister a lot, but he’s not with her anymore” Olivia explains, her hands still swirling around each other, “he’s nice, but we’re not friends. Sophie and Caden are friends, but I’m Sophie’s friend. Not Caden’s friend.” Tilting her head, Julia asks why Olivia believes she’s not Caden’s friend, a question that circles to a more depressing unfinding. “Because I don’t play with Caden, Sophie does” Olivia replies, explaining that she never sees her sister without him unless she’s home, “if she’s not with Caden, she’s not with dad, she’s not with me- I don’t know where she is.” Folding her arms in her lap, Julia proceeds down another question, one that brings a yet-unexplored possibility into question. “If Sophie’s not with you, dad, or Caden, where do you think Sophie is?” Julia asks, puzzled by the answer. “With my mom” Olivia responds, prompting Andrew to open his eyes, looking into the room with a squint, almost unsure of what to think. “Dad says my mom isn’t the same mom as Sophie’s, but I know we don’t” Olivia replies, her voice, despite discussing heavy topics, remaining as lively and preppy as it always has, “maybe she decided to bring her home.” Turning to Elaine, Andrew finds the woman’s confused eyes already upon him, a curious look in her face. “Where is Sophie’s mom right now?” Elaine asks, a question that takes Andrew a moment to answer. “I’m not really sure… I haven’t heard from her in twelve years” Andrew responds, looking back into the session room with his eyes squinting, a new thought having popped into his head. | “Mr. Amari!” a young girl shouts from the side of the street, earning the man’s attention as he exits his vehicle. “You look familiar” Andrew calls back, watching the girl approach him, hands tucked in her pockets, “aren’t you the kid that robbed the Stewart’s house?” With a smirk on her face, Izzy shakes her head in refusal. “I went to pelt their kid with eggs, not steal their pelt rugs… Let’s get that clear” Izzy replies, inquiring about the search. “Caden not keeping you informed or something?” Andrew responds, pulling out his house keys as he opens the backdoor to his vehicle, Olivia rushing out to jump into Izzy’s arms. “Ah- small child- why?” Izzy yelps, both hands held in the air as the girl wraps around her like a snake, Andrew quickly running over to pull her away. “Is your kid a monkey? Do I look more like a tree than I realize?” Izzy asks, a quick explanation doing enough to satisfy her. “You don’t like kids or something?” Andrew asks, the young girl approving of his findings. “I’m an only child and my mom doesn’t shelter me like every other kid” Izzy explains, returning her conversation to the previous point, “and no, Caden isn’t keeping me informed… He’s not really talking about it at all, to be honest.” Nodding, Andrew admits that he’s sorry to hear that, asking the young girl of her interest. “My mom never taught me about these kinds of things until after Sophie went missing” Izzy explains, Olivia dashing through the front door the moment it opens, allowing Andrew to look back at the woman, “now, especially since she’d still be here if I hadn’t been a few minutes late… I don’t know, I feel guilty.” Closing his lips, Andrew lets out a sigh before welcoming the girl in, a gesture Izzy takes with appreciation. “I don’t blame you if that’s what you’re wondering” Andrew explains, throwing his keys upon the granite countertop and walking toward the fridge, “none of us saw what happened coming.” Her head hung, Izzy occupies one of the chairs at the kitchen table, looking off at a framed photo of the trio on the wall, eyes growing sad. “Is it bad if I blame myself, though?” Izzy wonders aloud, watching the older gentleman close the fridge, stopping his intentions of making a quick dinner to look at the girl as she continues, “-because it’s really hard to forgive myself for letting it happen.” Resting a carton of eggs and a cup of olive oil on the counter, Andrew takes a seat beside the younger girl, both hands pressing themselves against the top of the table. “I’ve sat at this island over a hundred times in the last month, wondering what I could’ve done anything differently” Andrew explains, the irony of this encounter beginning to feel more like fate, “the problem is, the only person responsible for this is the person that took advantage of my daughter being alone. No one else.” Turning away from the man, Izzy begins to feel the weight of responsibility push upon her shoulders, the alleviation of the man’s blame doubled down on by her own hand. “How am I not responsible somehow?” Izzy asks, trying to give herself no easy exit, “even just for showing up two minutes later than I should have?” Finding common ground, Andrew places his hand upon the girl’s arm, looking into her eyes to ensure his response isn’t brushed off. “I could’ve taught my daughter to look out for things like this… To not trust the world like she does” Andrew explains, his head shaking as he approaches his point, “I didn’t take her, I didn’t run off with her, I’m not the one that took her from any of us… And neither are you.” As a tear runs down her face, Izzy flashes a smile before nodding, looking away and standing up from her seat, thanking the man for their conversation. “I don’t want anyone blaming themselves for something they shouldn’t” Andrew replies, a genuine smile coming across his face, feeling like he’s helped make a difference, “I’ll let you know if I find out anything else… Help keep your mind at ease.” With a sniffle, Izzy wipes away her tears and nods toward the man, walking for the front door. “Hey, before you go…” Andrew calls out, stopping the girl in her tracks, feeling weird for asking, “has Sophie ever told you about her mother?” Looking off at a random spot of the house, Izzy shakes her head in declination. “She’s mentioned having a different mom than her sister, but never anything specific” Izzy responds, shrugging her shoulders, “honestly, I think I’ve always just assumed her mom’s been dead.” Tilting his head, Andrew asks the girl why, his will to fight in the past only further validated through Izzy’s response. “It’s not often you see a dad get custody of the kid when the mom’s still alive” Izzy replies, her shoulders shrugging again, “I assumed that’s why she lived with you instead.” Giving the young girl a smile, Andrew thanks her for the conversation, the pair silently ending their discussion with Izzy’s exit. Sat at the counter, Andrew looks at the quiet interior of his kitchen, dimly lit by the chandelier above, a moment of reflection coming through. Reaching into his pocket, Andrew presses a tab on his screen and lifts the phone to his ear, waiting to be tapped into the next line. “Hello?” a man on the other end responds, greeted by Andrew’s voice. “Hey, Hugh… I’m sorry to call so late” Andrew explains, quickly forgiven by the call’s recipient, “would you be willing to see if you can look up the whereabouts of a someone for me?” Answering brief questions from Hugh, Andrew offers the little information that he has. “Morgan Amari, roughly the same age as me, would have been living in Topeka around September 2018” Andrew describes, a brief description of her appearance following. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but your officers asked if I knew anyone that could be responsible a couple weeks ago” Andrew explains, “I couldn’t think of anyone at first, but Sophie’s mom is one of the few people I could think of.” “Thank you” Andrew concludes, lowering the phone from his ear and hanging up, his feet carrying him to the depths of the home. Stopping at a small nightstand in the space between the kitchen and living room, Andrew answers his daughter’s call for him. “I’ll be right up, sweetheart!” Andrew blurts out to Olivia, reaching down and gently opening a drawer, a framed photo resting within it. “Carrion-Comiski family portrait, September 2020” the photo reads, a very pregnant woman depicted standing beside a four-year old Sophie, sitting on her father’s shoulders. Puckering his lips, Andrew holds back tears, pressing the picture to his chest as his daughter gently climbs down the stairs. “Honey!” Andrew greets, wiping his eyes and returning the photo to its original place, shutting the drawer, “What did you want me to se-?” Stopped, Andrew finds himself wrapped in Olivia’s arms, the girl pressing her head against his chest as he kneels down, a gesture the man begins to tear up at, returning in kind. > 18th January, 2031 < “That was your first hunch?” Caden questions, Andrew timidly replying in kind, the uneasy silence in the room making it difficult to feel warmth. “That was the first I thought of it being a possibility” Andrew replies, nodding to Caden as a tear rolls freely down the side of his face, “but it wasn’t a hunch… I didn’t expect to hear anything of value back from the Stewart’s.” “What did you expect?” Sophie quickly interjects from the doorway, both Caden and Andrew glancing toward her when asked, Caden turning back to the other gentleman. “I assumed there’d be something verifying a date of death, maybe a few other entries into rehab every now and then” Andrew explains, nodding to himself as he continues, “I didn’t expect to hear anything that would point me toward being suspicious of her. As it turned out, I was right for the most part.” > June 2030 < Answering the knock at his door, Andrew lets Hugh in, the man bringing a case of beer alongside him. “I know you like the cheaper stuff, but I figured you’d like something more top-shelf.” Taking a seat at the granite countertop, Hugh tosses a manilla envelope ahead of himself, Andrew looking at the thin appearance of the document, beginning to worry that his new clue may be dead in the water. “That doesn’t look like it’s full of direction” Andrew quips, a finding Hugh doesn’t have much luck arguing against. “She doesn’t seem to be too fond of being on the grid by the looks of it” Hugh responds, pulling a few sheets of paper from within the package. Letting them fall upon the table, Hugh looks down the listing of public records as Andrew sits beside him, nothing jumping off the page too heavily at first. “Says her license, health insurance, and other documents have all been renewed in the last year, that she owns a small plot of land up near Iowa in Gentry, but doesn’t appear to live there from her mailing records” Hugh explains, shrugging his shoulders at the rest, “not much more than that.” Eyes running down the rest of the mostly blank paper, Hugh explains that the remaining specifics are nothing to help their cause from there on. “She drives a 2011 beige minivan, uses a home phone number, and collects income for disability in the state of Missouri… So she still lives here” Hugh concludes, “that’s all we’ve got.” Putting his head in his hands, Andrew lets out a sigh, shaking his head in refusal as Hugh pats him on the shoulder. “Should we give her a call? Maybe let her know about her daughter going missing?” Hugh asks, his suggestion immediately declined. “No, she’s been out of Sophie’s life for thirteen years and deserves to be” Andrew replies, cupping his hands together and placing them against his chin, “she didn’t care then, she’s not allowed to care now.” With a nod, Hugh returns the papers to their envelope and hands the document to the man, leaving them for him to do as he pleases. “Andrew, I don’t wanna be hopeless here, but we’re low on options” Hugh explains, “we had very little to start with, and the trail’s only getting colder.” Turning toward the man, Andrew looks into Hugh’s eyes as he begins to well with tears, “it’s only a matter of time before this gets shuffled to the cold case section.” Eyes falling, Andrew feels Hugh’s hand pat him on the shoulder, the man promising to continue offering whatever he can to help the man find his child. With a silent nod, Andrew thanks Hugh for what he’s helped with, the doorbell ringing just as their conversation begins to wrap up. Quickly regaining his composure, Andrew walks to the front door, doing his best to make it look like he hadn’t just been on the verge of breaking out into tears. “Izzy?” Andrew calls out, opening the door to reveal the younger girl on the front step, her phone carried in her hand as she lets herself in. “Oh, hi Mr. Stewart” Izzy solemnly greets, the older man looking at her with less-than-enthused eyes, “I have a theory.” Shrugging, Hugh leans against the counter whilst Andrew welcomes whatever she has to offer. “Okay, gotta be honest, this might be a stretch, but it’s a good one!” Izzy exclaims, watching Andrew take the seat beside Hugh, both curious as to why she holds her phone up like it’s a small child. “After school, there’s usually no service whatsoever… Like that cell tower over the apartment complex at the end of the street just doesn’t exist” Izzy explains, both adults following along so far. “Since Sophie’s been gone, there’s no problem with the service anymore” Izzy explains, both Hugh and Andrew leaning forward, intrigued by what they’re told, “Sophie had my number and was supposed to text me after school, but I got no text… Maybe whoever took her was jamming the signal?” Taking interest in the lead, both Hugh and Andrew realize that premeditation is no longer a question. “Whoever was there needed to be smart enough to jam the signal- if they intended to interfere with it” Andrew explains, a lead that Hugh only furthers travels down. “Even more than that, they must have been there constantly” Hugh explains, the only explanation for the never-ending interference being the one he’s come to. “So they were purposefully going after Sophie!?” Izzy exclaims, a brand new conversation nearly ready to be opened, Hugh the only party objecting to such definitive conclusions. “They may have been going after anyone, we can’t prove Sophie was anything other than someone they just happened to get lucky in finding” Hugh explains, turning toward Andrew with his sights on the envelope, “either way, we might want to pay your wife a visit.” “You think Sophie’s mom did this?” Izzy wonders aloud, both Hugh and Andrew glancing back toward her, a shrug coming from both. “She has a motive, Andrew” Hugh explains, his eyes glancing back toward Izzy, “and based on whatever you told this one, it seems like she’s the only solid lead we’ve got right now.” “This one has a name, and that one has a point, Mr. Carrion” Izzy responds, a smirk coming over her face, “if she could have done it, there’s no reason not to go find out!” Looking back to the envelope, Andrew considers the little he knows, looking back to Hugh in acceptance of his suggested plan. “I guess we’re going to Gentry” Andrew replies, a pat on the shoulder coming from Hugh, the plan cleared. > 18th January, 2031 < “You still didn’t expect to get much out of the trip, did you?” Sophie calls out from the doorway, both arms leant against each side of the frame, her father looking at her with a depressed glance. “I expected it to be another dead end… I had no clue how on the nose I was” Andrew responds, shaking his head away from the camera, “and we were still so far away from getting those texts.” “Don’t go too far ahead, that’s for a later question” Caden interjects, not wanting to lead the dialogue too far ahead too soon. “We missed each other by just that much” Sophie replies with a faint voice, almost coming off as a whimper as she shakes her head, “thank god for Izzy.” “She was the one that kept us going after you” Caden responds, chuckling to himself as he recalls the moment they found their greatest piece to the puzzle, “we would’ve never found you without her.” With a nod, Sophie re-enters the room propper, tapping Caden on the shoulder and directing him toward Andrew’s seat, her father being gestured to return to his doorway. “As you said, let’s not get ahead of ourselves… There’s more story to tell” Sophie replies, a genuine pep in her step as she feels the halfway point come and go, “more specifically, your story, Caden.” With a sigh, the boy nods to himself and hands the girl his clipboard, a feeling of propper ease coming over the room as the questions change hands, Caden carrying himself to the seat before the camera. Lowering himself back into the chair, Caden watches Sophie sit in his previous seat, his hands folded in his lap as he looks into the lens, the girl’s smile fading as the next question is read aloud. Hearing the question spoken, Caden lifts his chin and speaks with a clear voice. “Caden, what was life like after I was gone?” Sophie asks, the boy answering with one word, unmistakable from any other. “Hell.” == Generation Alpha == } The following events take place through the months of April, May, and June, 2030, and the 18th of January, 2031 {
> 18th January, 2031 < “It wasn’t easy for me, either” Sophie mutters, her shoulder just brushing against Caden’s as they pass each other, their eyes set on their original seats, “hearing what it was like for the two of you… For everyone else.” Looking away from the girl, Caden thinks of what to say, the proper words eluding him at every turn, prompting him to remain silent as he walks the rest of the way to his chair. Pausing for a moment, Sophie stands where she last stepped, Caden already taking his seat whilst she remained in the middle of the room. “I hate this” Sophie says aloud, her words finding Caden’s ears just as he takes his seat, “I hate doing this.” Without reassurance to offer, Caden fumbles through his bag of phrases, finally settling on a question to the statement offered. “Why are we doing this, then?” Caden asks, Sophie’s eyes turning with her head, finding Caden with ease. “Because it’s necessary” Sophie replies, shoulders limply shrugging, “I’m going to need to remember everything.” Closing his eyes so the girl can’t see him roll them, Caden begins to speak, quickly interrupted by the formerly imprisoned. “You might not-” Caden begins, his words that follow being destined to silence, allowing Sophie to refute him, “but I might.” Folding his hands atop the clipboard, Caden plays with the cap to the pen in his hand, watching Sophie turn back to her chair, walking the rest of the way. Looking at the clipboard, Caden reads the next question in silence, repeating it in his head before stumbling off track. “Why did you tell me that?” Caden asks, calling the conversation back to Sophie’s stated feelings on the task as a whole. “I’m pretty sure that’s not the next question” Sophie remarks, her eyes not having looked at the camera yet since changing seats, her conversation being one meant solely for the moment. “That doesn’t matter, answer it anyway” Caden replies, Andrew’s subtle calling of his name doing nothing to help the annoyed reflection in his tone. “I said it doesn’t matter, Mr. Carrion” Caden remarks, looking at the older man over his shoulder before turning back to the girl, “answer it.” Biting into her bottom lip, Sophie lets the slight tension in the room dissipate before answering, partially using the silent moments to convince herself of the answer. “So you know you’re not alone in it” Sophie replies, the irony bringing a further silence of the room, the one where the same couldn’t be said for her. = Generation Alpha is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = > April 2030 < “Good morning!” Morgan calls out, the sky behind her a pitch black, the stars still out in full force.”It’s the middle of the night” Sophie remarks, still curled into a ball in the back of the room, her mother approaching the restraints she’s locked to with a key in her hand. “It’s the end of the night, actually” Morgan replies cheerfully, placing the key in the metal configurations and pulling the long chain toward her. “I decided you should be sleeping in your bed more” Morgan explains, pulling the chain through its loop until it can extend no further, at which point, she twists the key again and relocks the restraints. With a smile, Morgan turns toward her daughter and waves her hand around the width of the room, as if to inform her offspring that she now has full access to it all. Confused, Sophie takes her mother’s gesture as genuine until proven otherwise, slowly pushing herself off the floor, leaning against the wall to get the blood flowing in her legs again. “The closest house isn’t for miles and miles” Morgan explains, taking her opportunity to get out of her daughter’s reach while she still can, stopping a few yards past the exit. “If you call for help, no one will hear you” Morgan explains, watching Sophie stagger toward her, “it also means you can come outside.” Glancing back at the mechanism upon the wall she’s chained to, Sophie cautiously walks forward, quickly getting further than she’d been allowed before. Like a zombie from a movie, Sophie drags herself further forward, finally reaching the door, her hands placed upon each side of the frame as she glances back, finding a few feet of chain left to exploit. Closing her eyes, Sophie breathes in the air before letting go of the frame, carrying herself out into the open air, her eyes staring into the sky as if it were the first time she’d ever seen it. Pulling her feet out of her shoes, Sophie runs her finger down the top of her socks and places her feet upon the dirt. A smile coming over her face, Sophie’s visage falls back upon her obnoxiously happy mother, that joy immediately beginning to fall. Stepping as close to her mother as her chains can allow, Sophie comes within a few inches of her mothers mein, her voice fading in and out. “Why did you do this?” Sophie asks, looking at the woman with a cold stare, not an ounce of pleasant emotion shown, “why am I here?” Her eyes wandering down to her daughter’s chest, Morgan’s sights fall upon a necklace, her face brightening with a smile. “Where’d you get the necklace?” Morgan asks, trying her best to redirect the conversation, something Sophie sees through easily. “I asked a pretty good question, why aren’t you answering it?” Sophie remarks, her mother’s hands rocking back and forth, not truly sure where to rest. “Because…” Morgan replies, the chipper tone in her voice doing it’s best to test Sophie’s patience, “...I don’t really have a good answer.” “Okay, what’s the closest you can get to one?” Sophie asks, her voice rigid and tough the more it smoothes out, her stance presenting a woman resilient to anything other than answers. “I missed my daughter and made a bad choice” Morgan remarks, something resembling hope being brought back onto Sophie, provided with proof that her mother is aware of the wrongdoings. Without much of a retort, Sophie remains silent for a second, inspecting her mother for a moment before squinting at her, another question popping into her head. “What’s wrong with you?” Sophie asks, Morgan’s expression immediately changed into one of a judgmental parent. “Sophie, don’t talk to me like-” Morgan begins, interrupted by her daughter, a clarification being made. “No, I mean literally… There’s something mentally wrong with you” Sophie replies, looking back to the cell she’s been put into, “you’re one person sometimes, another person the next. Is it a medical thing?” Hanging her head, Morgan scratches at her arm, the smooth breeze pushing her hair back for her. “I’m a… I’m a high functioning psychopath” Morgan remarks, her daughter pulling her head back, confused, “it’s a clinical diagnosis, but it doesn’t make me crazy.” Lips parted, Sophie looks at her mother in astonishment, the amount of questions running through her mind barely contained within her head. “How can you say that?” Sophie questions, her mother’s head tilting, “I’m your daughter and you have me locked in a cage like a dog- do you understand that?” Her head jolting in different directions, Morgan looks for a way to suggest otherwise, a gesture which Sophie doesn’t take kindly to. “No, don’t explain it away like it’s nothing… I can see that’s what you’re trying to do” Sophie mutters, backing herself away from her mother, “that’s what it is… No if’s, and’s, or but’s about it.” Turning around, Sophie looks toward the ground, returning to her prison before tripping herself over her shoes. “Oh honey!” Morgan calls out, watching her daughter crash into the ground, rushing up to her. “I’m fine!” Sophie shouts back, holding her hand out whilst dragging herself back inside with the other, fist clenched. Without another word, Sophie slams the door shut on herself despite her mothers pleas for a different result. “Don’t come back!” Sophie shouts, her ear pressed to the door itself, hands forcing it to remain shut. Disappointed, Morgan locks the bunker door shut and returns home, the smile on Sophie’s face behind the door wide and true. Looking down to her balled fist, Sophie opens her fingers to look at the decent-sized stone clutched in her grasp, her ticket out of the horror show she resides in seemingly purchased. | Sat beside her front windows, Morgan looks out at the bunker, just as she has for the last few hours, the divider propped up slightly in case she can hear her daughter’s voice cry out. Anxious, Morgan stands away from the view and walks for the front door, her eyes set on the bunker, the early morning just beginning to allow its sun over the horizon. Unlatching the entrance, Morgan pulls the door open, beginning her visit with an apology. “Sophie, I’m sorry that we-” Morgan begins, the spot her daughter would usually occupy empty, just as the room is. “So- Sophie?” Morgan repeats, her tone soft, words stuttering as she begins to panic. “Sophie!?” Morgan shouts, turning her back to the bunker, the only evidence of her daughter’s presence being the broken chain left in the middle of the floor. Running around her property with her daughter’s name being called for, echoing throughout the air, Morgan goes into a frenzy, the bunker door left wide open in case her daughter happens to wander back. Seeing this unfold from beneath her bed, an unchained Sophie, only restrained by the cuff on her ankle, waits until her mother disappears around the house before making her escape. Her chance given, Sophie hurries out from under cover, racing through the open door and dashing through farmland. Having spent the last few hours pacing around her bunker, Sophie’s legs carry enough strength to lead her miles away, the only barrier in her way as of this point being the lack of cover she has available to her. “Sophie!” Morgan shouts, finally having rounded the house to see her daughter’s figure tearing through the open field, nothing stopping her aside from her own stamina. With a smile on her face, Sophie dashes through the land, refusing to break her stride until she runs across help. In a split second, the soaring sensation of freedom is snatched away by a single pulse, the cuff around her ankle zapping her with enough electricity to take down a small bear. Leg having gone as limp as the rest of her body, Sophie throws herself forward, unable to stop her momentum until she slams into the dirt, coming in and out of consciousness as the rock falls from her hand. Quickly fading, Sophie hears her mother’s calls near closer and closer, forcing her to make peace with being returned to imprisonment just before she loses consciousness. | Slowly returning, Sophie feels a numbness course through her body, as if every limb she had was asleep. Pulling herself up, Sophie sits against the wall, a brand new chain now locked around her neck, Morgan replacing the covers of her bed with warm sheets. “Shock collar?” Sophie asks, already having accepted the answer before it had been confirmed. “You scared me today, Sophie” Morgan explains, her back turned toward her daughter, still in the process of replacing Sophie’s sheets as she outlaws her actions. “You are not to leave this premises- it is forbidden” Morgan explains, still teetering on the edge of outright kidnapper and distressed parent in her own mind. “I don’t like having to do this to you, but you leave me no choice!” Morgan explains, finally looking over her shoulder at her helpless daughter, “case and point… Today.” Frustrated, Morgan ruffles through the sheets, aggravatedly trying to fit them to the bed before giving up, tossing them on the floor and kicking them at her daughter. “I was going to bring you home!” Morgan shouts, her daughter curled into a ball against the back wall, “I was going to bring you inside and get you settled into your new room- but you fucked it all up!” Holding back tears, Morgan places her hand against her face, trying to collect her breathing until her daughter speaks out. “It’s not mine” Sophie remarks, her mother’s face immediately darting toward her, lost for context, “the room” Sophie continues, “...it’s not mine.” “What are you talking about? Of course it’s your room!” Morgan responds, mustering a smile amidst the tears, “I had it all decorated and ready for you!” Wrapping her arms around her knees, Sophie rests her head against the wall, eyes staring up at her mother, disgust written all over her own face. “It’s not my room, Morgan” Sophie replies, her mother’s speechless expression only accompanied by her daughter’s further defiance, “it never will be.” Seething, Morgan reaches around her back and retrieves a pistol, its barrel aimed at her daughter, the situation immediately turning on its head. “We are a family goddamnit!” Morgan shouts, her fear-stricken daughter immediately putting her hands in the air, standing down, “whether you like it or not- this is your life now!” “Okay, Mo-” Sophie remarks, stopping herself before being able to get her mother any further aggravated than she already is, “Okay mom… It’s my life now.” Her face flooded with tears, Morgan lets a smile break through her lips as she shakes her head, refusing to buy into what her daughter’s selling this time. “No, you don’t believe that yet” Morgan replies, backing away whilst leaving Sophie to make her own bed, “but you will soon enough.” Returning the gun to her waistband, Morgan slams the bunker door shut, locking the hatches and leaving Sophie to her own. Slowly lowering her arms, Sophie returns them to her shins, pulling her legs close as she begins to hold back tears, the fear she holds beginning to truly set in, an uncertainty over what is to come feeling worse than death. > May, 2030 < Yanking the bunker door open, Morgan bathes a dark room in light, her daughter still curled up against the wall in the back of the room. “Let me go” Sophie mutters, those three words the only set the young girl is willing to speak, everything else falling along the lines of pointless as far as she’s concerned. Rolling her eyes, Morgan flicks the lights on and enters the room with a chocolate cake, a birthday candle in the form of the number one lit atop it. “What’s this?” Sophie asks, her statements and questions asked swiftly, almost coming out as a whistle at times. “It’s a cake for you” Morgan explains, watching her daughter’s face only further scrunch in confusion, “to celebrate our anniversary!” Looking at her mother with a weirdly disassociated glare, Sophie asks for more context, which Morgan is happy to supply her with. “We’ve been together for a year! I thought we should celebrate!” Morgan exclaims, her daughter’s eyes widening, face easing to the point of dread. “W- what?” Sophie remarks, her mother’s expression chilling her to the bone, the haunting manifestation of glee in another person’s sorrow forcing her stomach to twist in knots. “It’s been a year since you’ve been home!” Morgan answers, her voice carrying little weight, “the time’s flown by!” “I… I’ve wh-” Sophie begins, looking toward the deepest corner of the room, unable to stare at her mother’s face without wishing for the release of death. | Pushing the bunker door in, Morgan enters Sophie’s holding area, head turning toward the bed, where her daughter lays uncomfortably still on her side. “Sophie, honey… I need to tell you something” Morgan explains, the still perfectly-conditioned notebook resting by her daughter’s side, its cover traversed by the back-and-forth glide of Sophie’s index finger, “they’ve called off your search.” Looking toward the wall beside her bed, Sophie lets a single tear fall down the side of her face, her finger pushing the notebook away before the tear can land on it. “Let me go” Sophie whispers, pulling her head away the moment her mother lays her hand against it. “Don’t touch me” Sophie says as she crawls aside, hearing her mother’s footsteps carry through the door and onto the sand-covered asphalt. Turning onto her back, Sophie feels a tear slide down her face, the droplet landing on the unchanged sheets beside her head. Looking toward the ceiling with her eyes wide, Sophie hears her mother’s front door close in the distance, allowing a surge of tears to break their way to the surface. With a convulsive twitch, Sophie screams at the top of her lungs, a guttural moan presenting itself, carrying out the little remaining hope left with it. | > 18th January, 2031 < “She made trips in constantly, once every few hours” Sophie explains, struggling to understand where her mind was at the time, even with the benefit of hindsight, “it just felt like a daily thing at the time.” Folding his hands, Caden presses his lips to his knuckle, watching Sophie continue to traverse her mind, stowing away memories being unlocked at will. “I didn’t know if she’d kill me or not, but the search getting called off took that off the table mostly” Sophie explains, looking toward Caden and her father, “I knew she’d want to ‘mend things’ before she got that desperate.” Looking back to the clipboard, Caden attempts to ask the next question, his words interrupted by a fleeting thought just popping into Sophie’s mind. “I made it three hundred and forty-five feet” Sophie mutters, Caden and her father looking up at her, lost for meaning. “The charge zapped me when I crossed the 110-yard threshold, so I probably flew for another five yards before I stopped” Sophie explains, returning the conversation to her failed escape, “I ran for three hundred and forty-five feet of freedom.” Without a second look at the clipboard, Caden asks the question next laid out on Sophie’s list. “When did your mother tell you about Huntington's diagnosis?” Caden wonders aloud, a question that urges Andrew to look up for the first time in a while. > 3rd June, 2030 < The metal squealing as she opens the bunker door, Morgan calls out her daughter’s name, finding her on the bed once again, a similar position to where she normally is. “I… I have some news” Morgan explains, flicking the lights on, earning an immediate response. “Turn them off” Sophie calls, her mother doing as requested, hoping to have a civil conversation. “Let me go” Sophie asks, immediately resorting to her usual response, her mother’s failure to immediately refuse her demands prompting Sophie to break out of her sheltered haze. Without a word, Morgan drifts to the side of the room, gently dragging a chair from the small table beside Sophie’s bed and taking a seat upon it. “I don’t have long” Morgan mutters, her daughter turning over onto her opposite side, looking at her mother’s face, the emotion on it confusing her. “I’ve been getting treatments for the last few years” Morgan explains, detailing her battle with Huntington’s, trying to clarify what she can understand, “I’m not myself, and I’m only getting worse.” Not feeling sorry, Sophie pushes herself up to a seat, wrapping her arms around her legs as she looks into Morgan’s face, the fear in her eyes coming off awkwardly. “The courts wouldn’t let me have visitation, and I couldn’t let-” Morgan continues, stopping herself momentarily, Sophie looking on without much to react with, “-I didn’t wanna go without seeing you.” Shaking her head, Sophie takes the woman’s claims as an excuse, immediately challenging them. “Is that supposed to excuse everything you’ve done to me!? Everything you’ve been doing to me!?” Sophie asks, her mother only able to hang her head. “It was supposed to explain why I needed to make it right” Morgan replies, looking at her daughter with teary eyes, forcing the young woman to a state of empathy. “I’m so sorry” Morgan blurts, dropping her head onto her daughter’s legs, Sophie’s refusal to brush her away coming from a place of conflicted feelings. “How long?” Sophie asks, the world of uncertainties she’s surrounded with only solved by asking questions. “What?” Morgan remarks, Sophie repeating her question. “How long do you have?” Sophie replies, looking into her mother’s eyes, watching the tears fade away. “Less than a year… Maybe” Morgan remarks, her daughter pulling her face away, unable to look into the older woman’s eyes. “I just wanted to be around you… And I couldn’t… Ever” Morgan explains, looking at the side of her daughter’s face, “you can never be without your child as a mother without it killing you every day.” Biting her lip, Sophie shakes her head in a refusal to give into her mother’s sad story, the good natured heart within preventing her from feeling a deep-rooted sadness. “I just wanted to spend the time I had left with you” Morgan explains, pulling her daughter’s face toward hers, the tears streaming down both of their faces, “I wanted to make you happy like your daddy made you happy.” Lip quivering, Sophie looks down at her knees, her hands grasping at her shins while she musters up the courage to respond. “If you wanted to make me happy, you’d let me go” Sophie replies, the hope draining from her mother’s face, replaced with unaccompanied tears. Sobbing into her arm, Morgan lifts her head from her elbow and nods, reaching her hand into her pocket and removing a key. Without a second thought, Morgan places the small, metal masterkey inside her daughter’s chain collar and lets the set of links clatter upon the ground, freeing the girl of her restraints. “I don’t have a key for the collar, but it’s been off for months now” Morgan explains, wiping away the tears and snot from her face, handing her daughter the accompanying button. “Go home” Morgan whimpers, dropping her head into the mattress, not wanting to see her daughter walk away. > 18th January, 2031 < “Why did you buy it?” Caden asks, Sophie’s eyes drifting back toward him, the question one that wasn’t listed. “I don’t know” Sophie remarks, no response good enough for why she accepted her mother’s reasoning. “I think you do” Caden replies, watching the girl’s eyelids part further, his inquiry continuing, “did you really believe her, or were you playing the long game?” “Was I calling her bluff?” Sophie remarks, reiterating the boy’s question for him, forcing herself to do some introspection. “I’d like to say I knew what she was planning, but I don’t think I can” Sophie replies, running her hand over her smooth, collarless neck, “I’m pretty sure I fell for it. Hook, line and sinker.” Leaning forward, Caden places his clipboard to the side, challenging her thought deeper whilst making it clear that he’s going off script. “In that moment, all you knew was one thing” Caden explains, watching Sophie’s nod assure him that she knows what he’s going to ask, “why did you turn back?” With a deep breath, Sophie puckers her lips, explaining the reason behind her choice, a single truth holding the responsibility for why she went back. “She’s my mother.” > 3rd June, 2030 < Pulling herself off the bed, Sophie walks past her mother, glancing back just once before walking through the door, feeling the warm, mid-day air touch her skin. Bathed in light, Sophie looks toward the field she once failed to escape through, eyes filled with hope once more. Walking the direction she once failed to fully travel, Sophie is watched on by her mother, who stands in the bunker’s doorway, watching her young return home. One foot in front of the other, Sophie continues to move forward, looking back only once to see her mother in the bunker, refusing to chase after her. In a moment of uncertainty, Sophie feels a rumbling in her gut, an instinct telling her to stop walking. Looking down to see a partially-legible divot in the dirt from where she tumbled months before, Sophie looks off in the distance, the strange feeling that her freedom isn’t as it appears coming over her, though, not making itself clear. Turning around, Sophie looks toward her mother, something the woman hadn’t expected to see, only further puzzling the older woman when she finds her daughter’s figure returning. Head tucked down, Sophie continues to walk back, her hair blowing in the wind, face illuminated in the orange glow of the sunlight above. “If you’re not dead within a year, you turn yourself in for my kidnapping… No questions asked” Sophie explains, “-and you leave me everything in your will.” Unable to hold back a smile, Morgan says three words before watching Sophie walk toward the front steps of the main home. “I already have” Morgan mutters, watching her daughter carry herself through the front door, a sensation of profound accomplishment coming over her. With a nod, Morgan closes the bunker and locks it shut, hurrying back to the home, finally having gotten the second chance at family she had so desperately craved. == Generation Alpha == } The following events take place on the 3rd, 4th, and 5th of April, 2030, and the 18th of January, 2031 {
> 18th January, 2031 < Looking closely at his clipboard, as if he didn’t understand how the question was to be read, Caden attempts to decipher the words left before him. “What’s wrong?” Sophie asks, noticing the pause in questioning, her assumptions accurate. “I don’t understand the next question” Caden replies, continuing to read the lines repetitively. “Say it out loud” Sophie replies, prepared to help the process along, a gesture Caden takes kindly to. “The questioning switches now to the other perspective, okay?” Caden replies, the added inkling of cooperation accounted for in the end making this question impossible to ask like the rest. “Switch chairs with me” Sophie replies, already standing by the time her words leave her lips, shooting down Caden’s question as to why, insisting he does as asked. Not wanting to defy his friend’s wishes, Caden sheepishly stands out of his chair and approaches Sophie’s former seat. Halfway across the room, Sophie places her outstretched fingers upon the man’s chest, holding him back from reaching his destination, another request uttered. “Give me the clipboard” Sophie remarks, pulling her hand away and holding it in front of Caden, who gently lays the board upon the palm of the young woman’s hand. Taking his seat, Caden glances at the camera whilst Sophie occupies his own, crossing her leg and folding her arms atop the board as if it were a table. “What were the next days that followed like?” Sophie asks, watching the confusion come across Caden’s face like a disease. “Wait, are you questioning me now?” Caden replies, Sophie’s silent nod answering his question. “No, this isn’t my retelling, or whatever it is, I don’t wanna do this” Caden remarks, shaking his head and standing up. “Please, Caden… It’s important” Sophie replies, the constant stress of this sitdown interview straining every limit they have to offer each other. “Why is this part important?” Caden remarks, both hands on his hips, believing himself to be warranted an explanation. “Because I need to hear every little detail” Sophie replies, the expression dropping on the boy’s face. “You don’t know what’s in your future” Caden remarks, his point immediately brushed aside, it’s importance not being cared for by the woman in the driver’s seat. “I need to hear everything, regardless” Sophie replies, the young man ahead of her letting out a sigh before slowly lowering himself back into the chair. “What were the next days that followed like?” Sophie asks, watching Caden turn his attention toward the camera, answering with the best he can offer whilst maintaining an uncomfortable and disassociated view of the lens. = Generation Alpha is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = > 3rd April, 2030 < Pressing his knuckles against his neighbor’s door, Andrew patiently waits for a response from inside, a few lights from deep within the home beginning to turn on and allowing his wait to be put to ease. “Mr. Carrion, it’s the middle of the night” the patriarch of the family answers, his wife following closely behind. “George, Rebecca- I’m really sorry to wake you” Andrew explains, the concern on his face noticeable, “but it’s really late, and I’m still waiting for Caden to drive Sophie back.” Understanding the worry he can read in Andrew’s expression, George eases on his hardened approach, partially infused by his confusion. “What are you talking about?” George remarks, his confusion now shared upon the concerned father at his doorstep. “Caden- he was bringing Sophie back after school” Andrew replies, struggling to understand why such confusion surrounds their conversation, “I figured he’d taken her out to eat for her birthday, I didn’t know why else they wouldn’t be back yet.” Only helping raise his worries, Andrew peers past George and toward the staircase just beyond the doorway, a groggy Caden stepping down the steps. “Caden’s been home since the end of school” George remarks, pulling his eyes away from Andrew and placing them upon his son. “Caden, were you supposed to drive Sophie home after school?” George wonders aloud, beginning to share concern with Andrew upon his son’s answer. “Yeah, but she changed her plans after fourth period” Caden replies, wiping the exhaustion from his eyes, “she went to go egg Logan Stewart’s house with Izzy instead.” Squinting his eyes, Andrew interrupts the conversation between father and son, asking a question of his own. “Who’s Izzy?” Andrew asks, the simple answer being given, a random classmate he’s never met being responsible for bringing home the missing daughter not sitting well with Andrew. “Call that Izzy girl” George remarks, a confused Caden opening up his phone before pressing his fingers to the screen. “I didn’t say text the girl, did I? Call her!” George exclaims, his wife rolling her eyes as she shoves her feet into loose-fitting shoes. Pressing her name on the screen, Caden awkwardly presses the phone to his ear, hearing tones going, waiting for the voice on the other line to answer. “Hey, this is Caden. Are you still with Sophie? She’s not home yet and her dad’s here. Text me back” Caden ends, looking back to his father to inform him of the voicemail left. “Where does that Logan kid live?” Andrew asks, nothing specific being readily available. “Those Stewart’s are rich pricks, I’m sure they’ll be in one of the suburbs” George replies, directing his wife to stay with their son as he accompanies Andrew to the car. “What’s going on!?” Caden calls out, failing to understand why his parents are in such an equal rush. “Caden- honey- go back to your room” Rebecca explains, pulling him away from the door and turning him toward the stairs, “I’ll let you know when we find out.” > 18th January, 2031 < “You didn’t find it odd that I never came back?” Sophie asks, taking over the duties she left for Caden, only interrupting when something can be explored further. “I didn’t understand it at the time” Caden remarks, looking away from the camera, shaking his head toward his friend, “we were never really taught about that kind of thing.” With a deep sigh from the doorway, Andrew interrupts, his voice dry, as if it pained him too greatly to speak. “No one teaches ‘stranger danger’ anymore… No one thinks they need to” Andrew explains, his head still aimed toward the ground, shaking with disappointment, “second biggest mistake of my life.” Not related to the recording, Sophie turns around, looking her father in the eyes, her apple-red hair flowing over her shoulders the way her blonde locks used to. “What was the first?” Sophie replies, watching her father’s head pop up for a moment, his eyes holding back tears. Shaking his head, Andrew pulls his glance away from Sophie’s, lowering his chin once more to allow the questioning to continue. Wanting to ask her father again, Sophie holds off, turning toward Caden and returning to their original question. “What were the next days that followed like?” Sophie asks, the young man across from her nodding, his head turning back to the camera. > 3rd April, 2030 < Slamming his door shut, Andrew hurries up to the front step of the Stewart residence, the door already left wide open, a sight that brings an unintentional wave of panic over the man. Hurrying through the front door, Andrew’s chase comes to a screeching halt, finding a handcuffed student seated on the red-cushioned couch, an older man and an older woman looking over her, the man clutching at a fire poker. “What the hell is going on in here!?” Andrew calls out, immediately lifting tensions through the roof. “Who the hell are you!?” the man exclaims, his weapon aimed toward the unarmed man and the familiar face that enters just behind him. “I’m Sophie Amari’s father” Andrew remarks quickly, scanning the room for his daughter, “where is she?” Unconcerned, the man approaches Andrew with his weapon, demanding he leave his home immediately. Without a second thought, Andrew grabs the midst of the fire poker and pushes it aside, sweeping the rich patriarch’s feet out from beneath him, keeping a hold on his weapon. “Where is my daughter!?” Andrew shouts, swinging the metal stick around and aiming the sharp end towards the man’s throat. “I don’t know who you’re talking about!” the patriarch shouts, immediately supported by his wife, who explains the situation in a way that lends context. “We caught this one breaking into our house!” the woman exclaims, her finger lifted towards a restrained Izzy, “we’re waiting for the police to show up!” Looking toward the woman with content, George mocks her from a financial pillar below, scoffing at her statement. “You get some kid running through your house and you call the private police?” George replies, shaking his head at the disbelief. “Do you think you’re the president? She’s a kid, not a terrorist! Call the enforcement agency!” George shouts, watching Andrew let the older man back to his feet slowly. “We’ll do as we please with our money” the woman remarks, judging the pair of intruders, “why are you in our home!?” Handing George the fire poker, Andrew explains his case to the family, suggesting Izzy has the only answers he’s looking for. Confused, and already in no position to be accused of any worse than breaking and entering, Izzy defends herself. “Sophie bailed on me!” the girl shouts, not wanting to be responsible for whatever she might be up to, “whatever she’s doing right now, I’m not sitting in limbo for it!” “Back up, what do you mean by ‘she bailed on me’?” Andrew replies, his heart skipping a beat when Izzy responds. “I went to pick her up at the green after school and she wasn’t there” Izzy replies, cooperating in hopes that she’ll get off easier for doing so, “I haven’t heard from her since we made plans.” “Why did the two of you want to pelt my son with eggs?” the older woman asks, Izzy taking too much delight in answering with honesty. “Because, Hugh and Anne” Izzy remarks mockingly, “the two of you raised a douchebag.” Rolling their eyes, the older couple turns back to the pair of adults in their doorway. “You don’t know where your kid is?” Anne inquires, prompting Andrew to hang his head, subtly shaking in refusal to believe that he’s approached a dead end. “I’m calling the police again” Hugh exclaims, pulling his phone out, brushing off the proceeding apology from the intruding men. “Not for your break-in, we’re gonna find your kid” Hugh replies, not a moment of resistance from anyone other than Izzy. “You’re gonna help them?” Izzy asks aloud, “isn’t that kind of below you?” Not thinking highly of the wealthy pair, Izzy continues to insult the homeowners, finding herself surprised when the matriarch approaches her with a key, unlocking her handcuffs. “Go home and get back to your parents” Anne remarks, her grudge with the younger woman completely lost to more pressing matters. Confused, Izzy grabs at her wrists, wrapping her hands around the cuff marks with words aimed for the wealthy parents. “So the whole ‘wealth-dynamic’ ends when a kid runs off?” Izzy inquires, earning the ire of every parent other than Andrew, “it’s that easy?” Shaking her head, Anne tosses the girl her carton of eggs, telling her to go home once again. Taking her freedom when offered, Izzy walks through the door, making a passing comment to Andrew, passing on her best wishes. “She’s 5’9, fifteen years old, has blonde hair and brown eyes, right?” Hugh calls out from the kitchen, Andrew’s face forming a brief smile in the moment, the certainty bringing a sense of relief. “They’re putting a B.O.L.O out on her now” Hugh informs Andrew, returning to the room with his phone in his hand, “if she’s anywhere out in public, she won’t make it through the night without them finding her.” “And if she’s not?” Andrew replies, Hugh’s face losing much of the certainty it carried once the question is raised. “We’ll use what we have to look for her” Hugh answers, little else to offer besides resources. With a nod, Andrew lets out a deep breath, thanking the family for their help. “We’re wealthy, not heartless” Anne replies, a sorry look on her face indicating a genuine empathy for Andrew’s troubles, “we’ll let you know what we hear back.” Nodding, Andrew thanks them for their help, shaking their hands before departing the home in favor of their own, which he arrives to minutes later. “Where’s Sophie!?” Olivia cheerfully asks, running into her father’s arms, wrapping her own around his neck, pushing the side of her face into his shoulder as he props himself up on one knee. Opening his mouth to answer, Andrew puts one hand over the back of Olivia’s head and holds her tightly, beginning to lose control of the grave worry that consumes him. “I don’t know, sweetheart” the man says through a whisper-like sob, keeping to his knee as he cries into her shoulder. > 4th April, 2030 < Climbing down the stairs, Caden approaches the kitchen, one corner turned before he finds a largely-occupied room, faces he’s not used to seeing inhabiting it. “Mom, dad? Why are the Stewart’s here?” Caden asks, his dislike for their son not forming a dislike for them as much as others would, though their presence remains equally questionable. “Where was Sophie?” Caden asks, both of his parents approaching him without an answer, only raising more questions. “You said they’d find Sophie last night” Caden explains, still not receiving an answer, though, the prior statement begins to bring a swell of emotion upon Andrew, which Caden spots out of the corner of his eye. “Where the fuck is Sophie!?” Caden shouts, shoving the answer-less arms of his parents away, the sorrow in Andrew paling in comparison to the swell of rage within Caden. “What happened to her!?” Caden shouts further, refusing to keep his voice down, his parents refusing to make him, and the remaining guests refusing to think less of him for it. “What happened!?” Caden demands, his face scrunched up with anger, his parents unable to answer with anything to stop what he feels in that moment. Stood in the middle of the room, crying, feeling responsible for having let this come about, Caden asks one more question in a moment of fluster. “What did I do?” Caden whimpers through stunted words, prompting Andrew to push himself out of his chair, allowing him to walk up to Caden and pull him into a hug. Overwhelmed with emotions themselves, the Stewarts and Nurses watch the sight, knowing there to be no blame on Caden other than what he puts on himself. > 18th January, 2031 < “I don’t know what I would have thought if he didn’t hug me” Caden remarks, his face no longer pointed toward the camera, head unable to imagine where he’d be had he not been forgiven in that moment. “That’s what it was… It was an ‘I don’t blame you’” Caden explains, having viewed it as nothing less since that day, something that brings visible relief over the man in the doorway, clutching to the frame around him for support, “I needed it… We all needed it.” “We hadn’t known where your mother was for most of your life” Andrew calls out to Sophie, prompting the girl to turn toward him, “last we heard, she skipped town from rehab when you were two.” Looking away, Sophie takes in these new revelations, putting them aside in an effort to bring herself back to the question asked earlier. “What was the biggest mistake?” Sophie asks, her father’s disappointment in his answer as present as it was before, but his reply being given nonetheless. “Marrying your mother” Andrew responds, his gravelly voice reflected by the echo around him, an answer that satisfies Sophie, despite her cold expression suggesting otherwise. Turning back to Caden, Sophie asks him to continue. “What were the next days that followed like?” Sophie wonders aloud, returning Caden to the painful world he’s been tasked with reimagining, this hassle visually wearing him down, his posture becoming less held-together, face tired and weary. > 4th April, 2030 < “Why do you keep Logan inside all the time?” Andrew asks, hands folded, holding his chin up, a question the wealthy couple have been asked many times before. “We say it’s for convenience a lot” Anne remarks, Hugh not wishing to speak on personal outlooks, the topic coming off as uncomfortable to him, prompting him to remain silent, “I think- deep down- it’s to avoid this.” Puzzled and intrigued, Andrew nods, looking at the couple through the corner of his eye, raising a fair question. “Why is that one of the concerns you hide?” Andrew replies, admitting that most people would use that as their first answer rather than their last. Looking down, Anne fiddles with her thumbs, the answer one she hasn’t given much thought to before. “We’re the ones with the connections” Anne remarks, looking to Andrew with shame, “we can’t look scared when we have power like that.” Flashing a smirk, unable to feel much other than sorrow and grief, Andrew looks to the couple, uttering a phrase that brings a chuckle out of the pair. “Heavy is the head that wears the crown” Andrew replies, Hugh holding a disappointed grimace, his wife nodding her head in agreement. “People hate you for what you have, look down on you when they can, and view everything you do through multiple dimensions” Anne explains, letting out a concealed sigh, “it’s how the world works.” Finding common ground despite the large discrepancies between them, Andrew and the Stewarts are caught by surprise when a knock at the door presents itself. Racing down the stairs, Caden intends to be the first to the door, his father following closely behind, holding him back to allow his mother to be the one to answer. “Come in, please” Rebecca invites, a small team of private police entering the home with their hopes set on talking to Andrew. Pointing himself out, Andrew approaches the officers, his hope for good news quickly fading into the same limbo he’s been left to experience. “Can we speak to you in private, sir?” the police proceed, Andrew following the officers to a less populated corner of the home. “There’s not much left behind for us to go off of here” the officer explains, watching the life leave Andrew’s face, “the last anyone saw of her was a student that spotted her in the courtyard yesterday afternoon.” “But that’s good!” Andrew explains, the small window of time where she could have been taken would narrow down the possibilities greatly as far as Andrew would assume. “It would be very good if we had any operable cameras in that area” the officers reply, confusion beginning to return. “It’s a school yard! They don’t have cameras!?” Andrew remarks, the cold shake of the officer's head bringing on disbelief. “When the state senate struck down camera-qualifications, schools took them down to cut on costs” officers reply, sharing the father’s annoyance, “the best we can do is ask everyone around what they saw, but we’re not holding out too much hope on that.” With a groan, Andrew clenches his fists in an effort to calm himself, the officers before him trying to help guide his breathing down. “Andrew, we need you to think for us, can you do that?” the officers ask, an anger-driven Andrew nodding in response, agreeing to the request. “Child trafficking cases aren’t very common, they’re just not feasible like they used to be” the uniformed men explain, watching Andrew’s body grow relaxed, “most cases like this are committed by people that know the victim- which might be a factor here.” Tilting his head to the side, Andrew begins to wonder where the officers are going, his wonder quashed in the span of the next few seconds. “We need you to think of anyone that would do something like this, and we need to know everything about them you can recall” the officers explain, watching the flushed look on the man’s face arrive. > 18th January, 2031 < “And what did you say, dad?” Sophie asks, turning back toward her father with a look of suspenseful hope, the first true emotion she’s shown all day. Puckering his lips, Andrew looks to his daughter, feeling a deep-ridden failure to have performed his duties as a father. “I said-” Andrew begins, his voice coming off as a whisper, its contents heard throughout thanks to the echo that carries it, “I said ‘I can’t think of anyone’.” Her eyes moving to the narrow corner of her face, staring upon a blank wall, Sophie recognizes this as the moment she was doomed to the fate that awaited her. “So… If I didn’t-” Sophie begins, stopping herself and squeezing her eyes tight, a single tear streaming down her face, only beginning to speak upon skipping a piece of her response, “-I would have never gotten out?” Opening her eyes, Sophie looks back to her father, who lets tears flow freely, no longer making any attempt to stop them. “I wasn’t there when you needed me” Andrew replies, looking around the room his daughter was held prisoner in, unable to enter it fully. “It’s not your fault” Sophie remarks, surprising her father, whose lip quivers as he struggles to accept that statement as the truth. Mirroring the gift of forgiveness her father had given Caden, Sophie returns the gesture back to him, admitting that she likely would have done the same. “No one’s hands are clean in any of this” Caden replies, interjecting himself into the conversation, prompting Sophie to turn back to him, offering him her full focus. “We all played a hand in this, without knowing it and without being able to change it” Caden explains, making peace with it all in the moment, “we’d all change it if we could.” For a few seconds, the room goes quiet, Caden and Andrew solidifying their own opinions whilst Sophie silently harbors her own. “I wouldn’t” Sophie suddenly says aloud, earning the quick attention of both her father and best friend. “I would’ve never learned what I needed to if none of this happened” Sophie remarks, the same cold contrast in expression as her mother worn upon her own face, “I needed to learn.” > 5th April, 2030 < Removing himself from his car, Andrew confidently walks through the schoolyard his daughter had stood upon just two days prior, his intentions set on meeting those that oversee it. Pulling the door open, Andrew notes the lack of a lock or monitoring of the building, its entrance just as unguarded and free to move through as it was when he was a kid, before the time of monitoring every single step a student would or wouldn’t take. His arms waving from one side to another with each strut, Andrew scans the walls, not minding the students he would stumble across every now and then, finally finding a sign indicating the location of the main offices. Shoving the glass doors in, Andrew storms into the office with a fury, the lady at the front desk confused by this sudden presentation. “Who’s in charge of this institution?” Andrew asks, his words not missing a beat, the fright in the woman’s posture lending credence to her lack of immediate answer. Lowering his voice, but keeping on the stern tone, Andrew repeats his question, watching the woman reach for the phone at her desk. With ease, Andrew takes a pair of scissors from a cup of supplies and severs the landline, repeating his question for a third time. Without a word, the woman points to a room at the end of the hall, quickly hurrying for the phone from another desk once Andrew begins walking away. Fist raised, Andrew slams his hand against the door, demanding an answer from who occupies the inside. Without a sound from the other end, Andrew looks into the glass window and sees an empty office, prompting him to turn back. Just as he walks through the hall, Andrew finds a well-dressed man entering the office, greeting the frightened woman before acknowledging her scared state. “What’s wro-” the man begins, his eyes falling on Andrew before he can finish that question. “Who are you?” the man asks, looking at Andrew like he’d just kicked a puppy in the face. “Sam Wrenich, right?” Andrew replies, his finger raised toward the older man, “the president of this place- right?” Without a verbal answer, Andrew judges his accuracy by the nervous look spread from one side of Sam’s ear to the other, pleased with what he finds. With a nod and a smile, Andrew balls his hand into a fist and lays one shot into the man’s chin, sending him flying back into a row of chairs neatly placed along the wall. Pulling the door open to the secretary’s screams, Andrew drags Sam into the hall by the tie, a group of students bleeding out of their cramped classrooms. Yanking Sam to his feet, Andrew presses the man against a set of lockers, another shot sending the man straight back to the ground. Not yet satisfied, Andrew reaches down and starts dragging the man toward the bathroom, his intentions to continue the beating thwarted when a small group of teachers tackle him to the floor. “You should be protecting my daughter!” Andrew shouts, a dazed Sam crawling away with his hand pressing against his own jaw. “You let them take my daughter, you miserable cunt!” Andrew shouts, placing the blame on Sam’s shoulders, whether warranted or not. Restrained, the distraught father refuses to fight back, his anger not held against the teachers just doing their jobs. “These men are more than you’ll ever be!” Andrew shouts, continuing to lay on the insults as the sirens near, waiting for the consequences to his actions. == Generation Alpha == |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
May 2023
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