S1, E8 | No Secrets

} The following events take place between June and December 2030, and the 18th of January, 2031 {

> 18th January, 2031 <

“In December of 2030, you made a decision that would lead to your freedom” Caden explains, Sophie nodding in expectation of what question follows, “what, in the months that preceded, led you to make that decision?” With a smile, Sophie nods to herself, a smooth breath leaving her lungs, slipping through her lips. “I recognized a lie that snowballed” Sophie responds, Morgan’s false track of time having given Sophie slight clarity, “I didn’t believe anything without proof now.”

Her full stay very awkward to describe, Sophie likens the willing half of the time spent with her mother to a bird that, even with its cage door open, remains within its confines most of the time. “I think there was a weird part of me that liked being somewhere different, not really sure of what was coming next” Sophie admits, reflecting on the stress she’d apply to herself in her schooling, “it was nice to not know what the future held while also being okay with it.”

Leaning half of his body against the doorframe, Andrew asks his daughter why she’d put such stress on herself to begin with, a question Sophie had never given a second thought. “College is too costly, trade jobs are getting swept up in the thousands, and I’m nearly halfway through high school already” Sophie quips, truly of the belief that she’d never viewed school as anything less than a job that required perfection, “none of that mattered.”

“You, in this ‘bird and open cage’ analogy, were the bird” Caden clarifies, his assumption quickly agreed to, “it’s not that you didn’t want to leave the cage, it’s that you didn’t see a reason to.” Finding it more difficult to agree on the second half of that statement, Sophie filters out the easy from the difficult. “I liked not having to worry about the future, but it’s not like I always thought I had a choice” Sophie explains, “sometimes I just forgot exactly what was going on.”

Recalling multiple collections of weeks where she’d go without thinking of how to escape, Sophie makes it clear that she forgot the situation’s true gravity for large chunks of time. “Forgetting there was a future was easy. I didn’t really have a clue for the first time- and it felt natural” Sophie continues, looking toward the pair watching her, “then I’d suddenly remember ‘oh yeah, I was kidnapped’, and I’d go back to looking for clues for a few days.”

“Your mind just- what? Blocked that part out?” Caden asks, watching Sophie squint back to him, nodding. “Yeah, I think so” she replies, biting into her bottom lip as the original question is recalled, its recollection bringing her to the main purpose behind her sit-down questionnaire. “I spent the summer and fall figuring out what was true, and what was false” Sophie adds on, finally getting to the climax of her story, “eventually, I’d find it.”

= 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 =

> July 2030 <

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Morgan asks, her makeup done and outfit prepared to leave the house, Sophie left beneath the covers, putting on a sickly voice. “Go to your appointment, I’ll be fine” Sophie remarks, a cold cloth over her face, her words doing little to ease Morgan’s spirits, the older woman continuing to loom over the room. “Seriously, I’ll be okay” Sophie doubles down, telling her mother to get herself taken care of, a gesture which finally convinces the matriarch.

“Okay, you know where-” Morgan begins, cut off by her daughter’s insistence that all is fine. “Okay, I’ll be back in one hour” Morgan proclaims, closing Sophie’s door on her way out, the smile from her daughter satisfying her enough to let her proceed. Waiting a few minutes, Sophie peers her head over the ledge to her window, finding her mother’s beige mini-van pulling out of the garage and hitting the dirt road, leaving Sophie to her lonesome.

Throwing her blanket off the bed, Sophie races from atop her mattress and hurries out of her room, feet carrying her like the wind down the long staircase. With a thud, Sophie’s feet make contact with the hardwood flooring, her body twisting toward the living room, hand quickly reaching for the router and ripping the cord from behind it, any recording devices transmitting her feed powering down with it.

Walking into the kitchen, Sophie begins to rummage through the cabinets, different sets of plates and bowls occupying some cupboards whilst others host coffee mugs and other accessories. Coming up short in her efforts, Sophie glances around the home, the main level bathroom door being left wide open. Stepping into the cramped, tiled and sunlight-covered restroom, Sophie’s hands reach out for the cabinet, a little knob on the window pulled to reveal small, empty shelves.

Stunted for a moment, Sophie’s mind places its focus upon her mother’s bedroom, the space also containing a personal bathroom solely for Morgan’s own use. Dashing up the stairs, Sophie power walks to her mother’s bedroom and reaches for the knob, a single twist finding reluctance, the room proving to be off limits, her lack of a key presenting a challenge.

The floor beneath her sock-covered feet beginning to buzz, Sophie realizes her mother has quickly returned from her trip, the garage door slowly rising just one floor below. With a groan, Sophie runs back downstairs, her strut turning into a sickly drag, one hand pushing herself off every wall she stumbles into. “Why are you out of bed?” Morgan asks, quickly hurrying through the garage entrance, Sophie looking at her with a puzzled response.

“I was going to make soup?” Sophie replies, answering her mother with the best acting she can manage, perplexed at the woman’s arrival whilst dazed by her condition. Morgan’s attention completely brushing Sophie aside, the woman’s first instinct upon returning being to hurry to the living room. “Did you unplug the router?” Morgan calls out, Sophie groggily following after her mother, half-heartedly apologizing for the accident.

“I must have hit it on my way down, sorry” Sophie remarks, noticing something about the situation to be off, her worries immediately becoming what potentially looms over her every move. “That’s alright, honey” Morgan replies, quickly returning the cord to the slot in the back of the machine, her arm wrapping around her daughter’s neck as she brings herself down from the climactic rush of adrenaline, “I’ll get the soup going- you just get back to bed.”

> September 2030 <

“What was your childhood like growing up?” Sophie asks, sat on a log opposite her mother, a marshmallow on the end of a stick held over a raging bonfire. Puffing her cheeks, Morgan blows a stern breath through her parted lips, a cup of hot chocolate held in her hands, head shaking at the amount to recall. “It was a lot different than yours, I’ll say that much” Morgan remarks, a chuckle leaving her, not much better to offer than that.

Despite the obvious lack of interest in recalling her past, Morgan’s early life is called back into question, Sophie’s unwillingness to let her need to know die prompting her mother into an uncomfortable recollection. “Well, my parents weren’t really parents growing up” Morgan begins, thinking to her earlier years and failing to remember many moments where her parents weren’t busy doing something other than being in her life, “it was weird being taken to school by the neighbors, honestly.”

“My grandparents didn’t take you to school?” Sophie asks, a smile radiating from Morgan’s face as she shakes her head. “No, mom and dad worked in an office- They’d be gone before I’d even wake up” Morgan replies, vividly remembering one day in her past, the only such day where she remembers her parents being with her on a workday.

“I had gotten pulled out of school really early in the morning ‘cause I lived in New York at the time” Morgan explains, biting her fingernail as she speaks, “we watched the planes hit the second tower, and everything else that came after that.”

“Yup” Morgan jests, puckering her lips as she nods, almost letting out a chuckle, “they didn’t have time to be parents, and I didn’t really have time to be a kid.” Head hung, Sophie looks up to her mother, the older woman wiping her face with her finger, a sad look in her eyes. “I’m sorry” Sophie mutters aloud, the woman looking at her with a smile, putting up a strong face so as not to disappoint her daughter, “it’s not your fault.”

The campgrounds silent for a moment, Sophie pulls the blanket over her tighter, feeling the warm cotton press against the sides of her face, the wind blowing her hair in all directions. “What about you?” Morgan asks, admitting that she can’t accept her daughter’s apologies for an absentee set of parents when she did the same to her, “how’ve the last twelve or so years been?”

With a sigh, Sophie shakes her head, admitting that the answer has changed through the years. “I’ve been so focused on school for a while now- I haven’t really spent much time at home” Sophie explains, her hopes a great difference from the wants of other kids her age. “A bunch of my classmates work from home, so they don’t really leave the house a lot” Sophie explains, admitting to finding herself jealous of them at times, “but dad always wanted me to have an actual life.”

With a chuckle, Morgan nods in agreement with her ex-husband, admitting that she would have wanted much the same. “He may have his reasons, but mine are pretty fair too” Morgan explains, the little time she spent in her youth before getting pregnant always residing fondly with her, “there’s nothing like having a group of friends you can rely on. It’s important.”

With a shrug, Sophie agrees with her mother’s statement, another moment of quiet coming over the camp in the ironic seconds that follow. “Do you have any friends?” Morgan asks, the need to ask brought about by the fact that she’d been responsible for taking her daughter from them, the question itself laughed at by her offspring. “I have a couple friends… Mostly the kids that go to school in-person like me” Sophie replies, a smile coming over her a few moments later, one noticed by Morgan.

“And who might it be that brought that smile on?” Morgan asks, a smirk coming from the corner of her mouth, Sophie’s cheeks beginning to blush pink. “I have a friend that lives next door… His name’s Caden” Sophie remarks, the mention of the boy’s name bringing a nod over her. “It’s not a relationship like that- don’t get carried away” Sophie clarifies, another smile coming over as she thinks back to her birthday earlier in the year, “he’s just a good person.”

Fixing her hair, Morgan tells her daughter that she once said the same thing about Andrew when she was younger, having convinced herself that he was merely a good friend despite their relationship evolving as time went on. “Even when you’re young, you really notice when people look out for you” Morgan explains, clearing her throat as she takes another marshmallow from the bag, jabbing it onto the edge of her stick, “sometimes you end up getting really close to them.”

Figuring she’d never convince her mother otherwise, Sophie allows Morgan to draw her own conclusions, her eyes struggling to stay open as the night fails to get any younger. “I’m gonna go to bed” Sophie says, leaving her seat at the log, blanket still covering her shoulders, Morgan’s smile partially fading, still remaining somewhat present. “I’ll be heading to bed in a couple minutes, too” the woman replies, not wanting her daughter to feel guilty for leaving her on her own.

“Goodnight, honey” Morgan calls out, her daughter having already taken a few steps back to the house by that time. “Goodnight, mom” Sophie remarks, her head turned over her shoulder halfway through her walk back, the smile on Morgan’s face illuminated in the fire’s light.

> 18th January, 2031 <

“We spent a lot of nights like that” Sophie explains, one leg having returned to its state of resting over the other, hands folded in her lap once again, “it was the most normal I could feel, so we did it as much as possible.” With a smile, Sophie thinks fondly of those memories, thoughts that quickly fall by the wayside when her eyes recognize the room she’s sat within, the memories brought about through cold, lonely beginnings.

“It was so easy to forget that I was a prisoner, because it started feeling like home” Sophie continues, Caden’s eyes closing, his pupils rolling around behind his eyelids, not pleased with the statements made, “but I kept having to remind myself that it wasn’t.” Opening his eyes again, Caden glances at his clipboard, no longer paying attention to the questions being asked, instead deciding to beat his own drum.

“Tell me about halloween” Caden inquires, Sophie’s eyes quickly darting toward him, her eyebrows lowered in confusion. “Why halloween?” Sophie asks, recognizing the question to be completely original to Caden’s own moment in time. “I just want to hear about halloween” Caden replies, his arms coupling together, each hand wrapping around his arms, holding the crossed limbs against his chest.

“Morgan and I stayed in and watched movies” Sophie remarks, her head tilting to the side, curious as to the boy’s reasoning, “why?” With puckered lips, Caden lets a breath leave his nose, shaking his head in refusal. “No reason” the young man replies, picking up the clipboard and reading the next question to himself, beginning to struggle with finding the courage to raise his own questions.

“When did you-?” Caden begins to say aloud, Sophie interrupting him to ask a question of her own, a genuine intrigue being had over the contents of his question. “Why is halloween so important?” Sophie wonders aloud, Caden’s mouth freezing, the words he was using being let out like escaped whispers. With a deep breath, Caden lets the clipboard fall to his lap, looking back up at the girl with a confusingly distant smile.

“Like I said, ‘no reason’” Caden remarks, eyes falling back onto the clipboard while Sophie reluctantly allows the boy to pass the question off, waiting for another time to ask. “When did you confront Morgan about the Huntington’s?” Caden asks, the answer quick, her responses being offered with a cold tone while her father stays out the interaction, noticing it to be unusual, deciding it not to be his place to interrupt.

> 2nd December, 2030 <

“Are you being honest with me?” Sophie asks, one leg kicked over the other, having taken Morgan’s seat in the living room, a manilla envelope sat in her lap. “What?” Morgan asks, caught by surprise at first, entering the home with a collection of grocery bags, all sat upon the kitchen counter, the woman expecting Sophie to have been asleep by the lack of light from the home’s interior on her drive up.

“What are you talking about, honey?” Morgan asks, watching Sophie push herself out of the chair in the back of the living room, walking up to her mother with the envelope in her hand. “You’re not sick, that’s what I’m talking about” Sophie replies, tossing the folder onto an empty spot on the granite finish, her mother watching the envelope slide to a stop before looking toward her daughter, “you never have been.”

Mouth agape, Morgan begins to speculate amongst herself how Sophie could have discovered the truth, a brief “how-?” leaving her lips before her daughter interrupts. “I told you never to lie to me again, and here we are” Sophie explains, her mother shaking her head with an apologetic look on her face, trying to calm her daughter down in silence, “but you’ve been lying to me this whole time.”

“Honey, please listen to me” Morgan asks, watching her daughter turn to walk back to her room, a frantic tone in her voice, worried that the world she’d spent months building was all coming down with a thunderous collision. “No, mom! I’m done hearing you out!” Sophie shouts, turning back toward her mother, both hands held out by her sides, “what would have happened when you weren’t dead by next summer? How were you going to talk your way out of turning yourself in?”

“I was hoping we’d be on better terms by then!” Morgan remarks with a somber reflection, watching her daughter walk away with her head shaking in disapproval. “Sophia, honey!” Morgan calls out, watching her daughter turn around the banister and begin walking up the stairs to her room, her hands quivering, body trembling anxiously as the end draws itself unexpectedly near.

Her breathing beginning to grow varied, hurried in a way, Morgan begins to lose sight of her composure, the logical reasonings behind her actions being lost in a clouded uncertainty. In a moment much like the flipping of a switch, reasonability becomes replaced with necessity, a need to keep everything she’s known under control sparking a moment of action.

Biting into her bottom lip, Morgan turns around and hurries for the banister, her legs turning to carry her into her locked bedroom. With the turn of a key, Morgan gains entry to her bedroom and quickly makes a dash for the closet, one reach behind a set of colorful sweaters affording her all she needs to alleviate the situation.

“Stop packing!” Morgan shouts, turning toward Sophie’s bedroom to find her daughter stuffing clothes into a suitcase, her hands raised to her head as she finds herself at gunpoint. “Mom- what are you doing?” Sophie asks, her voice carrying worry, the fear for her life beginning to present itself as the primary reaction to this moment.

“We have not gone through the last eight months just to lose it all like this!” Morgan says in a shout, tears running down her face, “you’re not going to throw it away like this, Sophia!” Each finger stretched as far away from one another, Sophie slowly approaches her mother with a soft voice, showing the woman empathy as a way to maintain survival.

“Don’t come any closer!” Morgan shouts, her shaking arm steadying in a split second, the sight immediately prompting Sophie to begin expecting these moments to become her final moments. “Walk to the bunker” Morgan suddenly demands, her daughter’s expression showing a defeat that had been lost four months prior, a plea for her freedom being made once more.

“Walk to the goddamn bunker, Sophia!” Morgan shouts, her stern and declarative voice presenting itself once again, the only option Sophie has being made resoundingly clear to her. Left without another option, Sophie shuts her eyes tightly and nods her head, showing herself through teary eyes, down the staircase and through the front door.

“Please, don’t do this mom” Sophie pleads, the begging failing to resonate with the armed woman, Sophie’s actions being the catalyst for these events as far as she is concerned. Forced to unlock the bunker herself, Sophie flicks on the lights and allows the mostly-tarped room to be bathed in cold, white lights. “Walk to the back wall” Morgan orders, Sophie’s bare feet leaving the grass and returning to the concrete finish, her breaths sparse and gasp-like.

After a few seconds, Sophie finds herself facing the back wall again, the door to the bunker slowly creeping shut, the latches on the outside locking back into place, the once familiar room now appearing as common as it once had. Sniffling, Sophie lets the tears fall the rest of the way as she reaches into her waistband, the near perfect-conditioned notebook resting between her pants and her lap.

Placing the journal upon a tarped-over table, Sophie turns toward the bunker door, the silence that surrounds her in every direction bringing on a sudden burst of rage. Breaking out into a sprint, Sophie runs into the bunker door and begins slamming her fists against the metal backing, the room quickly being filled with a set of echo-carried collisions, Sophie’s pleas of “let me go!” the only thing keeping the chamber from sounding like a war zone verbatim.

> 25th December, 2030 <

“You’re going to have to earn my trust back” Morgan explains, sitting just before the bunker door, her gun resting atop her right leg, the only thing between Sophie and her snow-covered freedom. “I knew you wouldn’t have stayed if you knew I wasn’t sick” Morgan mutters, laughing at herself for falling for her daughter’s empty words, a poking of fun that Sophie quickly argues against.

“It wasn’t you not being sick, it was you lying about it that set me off” Sophie explains, her face dirty from the lack of a shower, her imprisonment in the bunker over the last three weeks having redirected her toward the right path for the final time, her need to escape being the only thing held of high importance.

“I guess we’ll see about that” Morgan replies, tucking her firearm into the pocket of her heavy fur coat, “you’re lucky it’s Christmas.” With a smile, Sophie pushes herself onto her feet, her notebook carried in her arms, pressed closely against her chest, “I won't let you down this time, mom.” Satisfied with her own ability to control the situation, Morgan nods to her daughter, shoving her own chair back into the corner of the room before leading herself back to the home.

When her mother’s back turns toward her, Sophie’s smile turns into a frown, her eyes breeding hate as she follows along, biding her time before making her ultimate move. As the late evening progresses, Sophie finds herself still awake, her head above the covers of her own bed, the pain in her eyes presenting the desire of one to finally finish the work she began long ago.

With a deep breath, Sophie throws the covers off her body, emerging from bed and walking up to her bedroom door, the shock collar that returned to her neck allowing a reprieve of Morgan’s fear toward a midnight escape. Walking down the hallway, Sophie stares at her mother’s bedroom door, the unimportant shade of white bathed in the moonlight that pierces through the windows of adjacent rooms, its presence calling for Sophie to approach it with her hand raised.

In a moment, Sophie presses her knuckles to the door, resting the balls upon the soft wooden surface before lightly tapping against it, her only goal being to now wait for an answer from the other side. With a gentle squeak, the door opens to present a robe-dawning Morgan, awoken from her sleep to find her daughter looking at her with a sad expression.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Morgan asks, her daughter stood in the hallway with her head slumped down, the sight bringing a confused loss for words upon Morgan. “Where do we go from here?” Sophie asks, looking up at her mother with tears streaming down her face, a depressed look accompanying the puppy dog eyes of hers. “What are you talking about, Sophia?” Morgan remarks, the weep from her daughter preceding a sudden embrace, Sophie wrapping her arms around her mom’s waist.

“I’m sorry for getting mad at you, I just want things to go back to the way they were” Sophie pleads, leaving Morgan, unsure of how to react, to return her only daughter’s embrace. “Oh honey, we’ll get there in time” Morgan replies, her chin pressed against the top of Sophie’s head, a tear coming from her own eye, “we got there before, we’ll do it again.”

“Yeah, I know” Sophie remarks, Morgan pulling away to look into her youth’s eyes, the young girl’s face tightly pressed between her mother’s hands, “no secrets this time, right?” With a smile, Morgan swipes Sophie’s hair over her ears, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead, “no secrets this time” Morgan assures, returning to the embrace.

“Can we-” Sophie begins, stopping herself amidst a coughing fit, her hand raised to her mouth, waving as she hunches over, gasping for air amidst the sudden attack. “Water- I need water” Sophie grunts, led to Morgan’s bed by the older woman in order to keep from toppling over to the floor, Morgan quickly dashing out of the room to the downstairs sink.

Waiting for a split second, Sophie continues to cough into her hand, at one point forcing herself to gag on her own lack of saliva, finally giving her the opportunity she had been looking for. Continuing to feign her coughing fit, Sophie runs over to her mother’s nightstand, opening the first drawer she finds before finding herself stunned into silence.

Forgetting to continue her coughing spell, Sophie’s face is covered in an onslaught of blinking green lights, the multi-pronged device sat right before her, completely unattended. With a moment of reflection, Sophie looks around the room, her mother’s bed and the home she’s grown close to for the last half of a year all being able to disappear with one flick of a switch.

Running back toward the stairs, Morgan’s presence brings on a moment of decision, Sophie quickly looking away from the door and back to the machine, her finger resting on the one switch separating her from freedom. Taking in a deep breath, Sophie lets out an accomplished smile, her thumb pressing down on a single button, rendering the machine powerless, the lights all vanishing in the blink of an eye.

Shoving the drawer shut, Sophie climbs back onto the bed and moves her hair in front of her face, feigning a few deep breaths as Morgan finally returns, a large glass of water in hand. “Thank you” Sophie says through a scratchy throat, lifting the glass behind her hanging hair and up to her mouth, lips pressing to the rim as the water flows down her throat.

“Thank you” Sophie says again, pretending to catch her breath as she returns the glass to her mother’s hand, hair being pushed away from her face and back over her ears. With a smile, Sophie looks into her mother’s eyes, the older woman standing over her with the half-empty glass in her non-dominant hand, a third expression of appreciation, this one more satisfied than the rest, concluding their interaction.

“Thank you.”

== Generation Alpha ==