S4, E2 | A Stick of Chewing Gum

> Monday, 22nd August 2039 <

“We know that the last year has been really difficult for most of you, but we’d like to do what we can to make this year a fulfilling one worth remembering for the positive reasons” Mr. Calhoun remarks, standing at the foot of the stage to a crowd of students, all who gather together with little interest in what’s being presented.

“I still think that you should call him” Derby remarks, seated near the end of a cafeteria table across the entire length of the room from the faculty-filled stage, her voice kept low enough to hide from the ears of her school’s teaching staff. “I’m glad you’ve brought that up for the third time today” Liv replies, passing a sideways scowl toward her friend with a sarcastic glint in her eye, “I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t meet yesterday’s record of twenty-six.”

“You’re wasting your time by not calling him. He’ll probably start thinking that neither of us are interested if you wait any longer” Derby comments, her arms crossed atop the long tabletop as her subdued conversation continues. “That’s because neither of us are” Liv responds, gliding her chin toward her acquaintance with the faintest sway, eyes remaining glued upon the stage just to appear like she’s a supportive student, the words that leave their lips bouncing off her ears without any chance of breaking through.

“Do you really want to be the girl that goes into college never having been in a relationship before?” Derby queries, putting the ball in her friend’s court to take action with. “Even if you don’t like the guy, it’d be worth going on a date with him just to find out” she continues, unwilling to just stand back and allow the opportunity to pass one of her only friends by, “that’s how dating is supposed to work. You need to learn how to do it before you can do it well.”

“Why don’t you go out with him then? You seem more interested in him than I am” Liv questions back, passing her glance back toward the young woman beside her. “Because I’ve already gone on dates with the Dylan’s of the world and they’re not my type” Derby responds, leaning back in her seat to hide her face from the faculty across the cafeteria’s way, “they’re friendly and kind of geeky. Not what I look for in a boyfriend, but not bad qualities to have in a friend.”

Shaking her head with a grin, Liv attempts to return her sights to the figures upon the stage, wanting to pass this conversation by just as she had in the days since it first started, only to be refused the chance by her friend’s persistence. “Just go on one date with him. Think of it as practise for when you want to get into an actual relationship” Derby doubles down, trying her best to convince the college-bound young woman to take the leap of faith, “there’s no better practise than a timid, charming nerd.”

“Can we get back to this lecture? I don’t want to get yelled at” Liv questions back, prompting her friend to roll her eyes and shake her head dismissively, disappointed in the conversation’s result before reaching into her bag and freeing herself a piece of gum. “I won’t pressure you any more about it as long as you put this in your pocket and think about it” Derby proposes, pulling out a pen and writing a phone number down upon the wrapper, handing it over to the lady sitting beside her.

“You’ve got nothing to lose. Just entertain me at the least” she furthers, holding out the wrapper to her older classmate, the pause in Liv’s demeanour making it clear that the proposal is at least being considered. “Take it, slip it into your pocket, and give it some thought when you get home tonight” Derby proceeds, finding a lack of patience too great to prevent her from opening her friend’s palm and tucking the wrapper into it, satisfying herself enough to return sights to the snail’s pace lecture.

Doing the same as she begrudgingly places the thin, tinfoil-covered wrapper into her pocket, Liv shakes her head and sets it into the direction of the ongoing lecture, trying to hide an appreciative smile that she doesn’t want Derby to see, feeling grateful to at least have a friend willing to push her into promising avenues.

= Generation Alpha is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards =

> Wednesday, 24th August 2039 <

“Home Jungle off the Rolling Hills, this is Andrew” the man greets, lifting his wrist toward his face with a slight grin, answering the call before hearing a breathy laugh from the other end of the line. “Really, we’re going to play that game?” Elaine asks back with a lift in her eyebrows as she pulls off the cover from a plastic patio chair and takes a seat upon it, falling beneath the glow of the dying, summer sun.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t understand what you’re asking me about” Andrew responds, rounding the shop’s front counter before approaching the Tree of Life, its leaves coloured a lively green and vines stretching from the ground to the ceiling, “we here at the Home Jungle off the Rolling Hills have a wide variety of...”

“What is this that I’m hearing about Liv’s school closing down, dear?” Elaine questions aloud, appreciating the witty back and forth they embark upon, though her mind rests on more pressing matters. “What do you mean?” Andrew replies, carrying a squint as he steps away from the building’s central column, confused as he retreats for the newly-built greenhouse extension to the property currently unoccupied, “where did you hear this?”

“Brenda- Braden’s mom- told me about it when I was dropping Galen off” Elaine replies, crossing one leg over the other as she stares into the treeline at the end of their property, “she said some of the moms with kids in the school were hearing that they were going to shut down at the end of the school year.”

Closing the door to what had once been the patio, Andrew keeps his voice low and unassuming as he ventures toward the corner of the area closest to the corner of the mainroad. “I haven’t heard anything about that” the man responds, as lost for information as his wife appears to be, “I know they’ve been having issues with getting people to come in, but they’re still only the fourth least-attended school in town.”

“Sure, but dear... let’s not pretend like they’ve got a wonderful history, either” Elaine replies, unable to see the displeased shrug of acceptance come over her husband’s body. “Aside from everything about Sophie, they just had everything that happened with that family last year” she carries onward, looking into the backyard of the home just off to her right to find a child playing in the backyard with his father, rolling around the grass and chasing after a ball.

“They’re still a publicly-funded school. I don’t see how they could just choose to shut down” Andrew responds, shaking his head at a loss for understanding, feeling like he’s speaking a different language than the one that he’s always known with the distance in his translation. “Because their enrollment dropped by twenty three percent between last year and this year” Elaine responds, not finding much trouble in seeing the cause, “no one wants to go to that school with its baggage.”

Leaning against the transparent casing protecting his property’s lot from the elements of the outside world, Andrew sits with his thoughts for a moment as he stares past the assortment of potted plants and into the larger shop. Wandering along the premises with admiration for the beautiful arrangements, the shop goers find themselves oblivious to the watchful eye keeping them within view, their presence acting more like a way in which the man can clear his head than anything else.

“So we’d need to find a new school for Galen to start kindergarten in. That’s not much of a big deal” Andrew concedes, seemingly coming to an acceptance of the situation at hand before falling into a deeper consideration. “Liv already seems intent on going to Chicago for school, so I guess we’re lucky she’s at the grade level that she’s at” Elaine follows up, speaking in lieu of her husband’s voice, “I hear the school about half a mile away from us has a pretty decent ‘K-through-five’ program.”

Squinting as he looks at the nature contained within his storefront, Andrew inspects the various shelvings and signage, ridding his mind of considerations to the sort in favour of thoughts that bring a smile upon his face. “With Liv flying the coop, this might be the perfect opportunity for us to put everything behind ourselves” he comments, catching his wife by surprise as she looks at the device on her wrist with furrowed eyebrows.

“What do you mean by that?” Elaine wonders aloud, leaning closer to the side with the watch on as she stares into the screen, only able to see her husband’s name and the upward-ticking clock on how long their conversation has endured thus far. “Well, Galen’s at the age where we can relocate and it wouldn’t affect him that much. He’s still young and hasn’t made actual friends. Moving wouldn’t be cruel to him” Andrew proceeds, laying out tracks for his wife to follow mentally.

“You want to move away?” Elaine inquires, leaning further forward in her seat now as she ponders the proposal offered from the man on the other end of the line, hearing his footsteps carry themselves back the way that they’d entered. “I can close down the shop and we can sell the home. We’ll take our things and move south” Andrew carries on, stepping through the terrace extension’s entrance in order to make it back to the front counter, venturing beyond that in favour of the business’ rear.

“We’ll go somewhere warm, set Galen up in a kindergarten wherever we end up and have Liv fly out for the holidays” he continues, convincing his wife that he’s serious with each continued line of speech, “she’ll be studying in Chicago of all places, so she’ll probably appreciate having somewhere warmer to go when the cold months take shape.”

“You’re serious about this?” Elaine inquires, wearing a semi-smile at the exciting thought proposed, loving the home in which she resides within now, but the idea of travelling presents her with an exhilarating opportunity that she’d never taken into thought before. “Yeah. People go off and retire to Florida or Georgia or somewhere like that all the time. Why can’t we?” Andrew questions back, still trying to keep his comments away from the ears of patrons, “we’ve got the money, the time, and it wouldn’t be uprooting the kid’s lives for our own benefit.”

Lifting herself off the chair, Elaine wanders beyond the patio and descends the steps into the larger backyard, feeling the recently-cut grass slide between her toes as her feet press down upon the manicured lawn, carrying her into the shaded half of the rear field. “I’ve wanted to move away and just start somewhere fresh for a long time now” Andrew confesses, pressing his back to the wall of the breakroom as he wears his grin, “I haven’t needed to live here for so long. We have the financial liberty to do whatever we want. Now is the perfect time to take advantage of it.”

Fixing the hairs that flutter in the swaying breeze of the wind, Elaine smiles as she stares at the ground, the red and black flannel shirt that she wears over her tank top being pushed away from the calm rushes of air. “Alright, then... I, uh...” she stutters as she frees a laugh, too pleased with this eventful proposition to not take immediate intrigue within it, “...I’ll talk to you about it more when you get home.”

“Sounds like a plan” Andrew replies, wearing his own pleased expression as pushes himself off the wall, preparing to return to his daily duties as he bids the woman adieu, “love you, dear.”

“I love you too” Elaine replies with a giggle, shaking her wrist through the air to end the call as she finds herself at the backyard’s centre, staring into the treeline before catching the glimpse of a yellow and blue ball floating over the fence and into her yard from off to the side. “Sorry!” the apologetic father proclaims, lifting the palm of his hand high enough to reach over the fence, looking through the modest slots in its wooden composition to find his neighbour standing in the middle of the yard.

“I have too big of an arm for my own good sometimes. I utterly-” the man attempts to plead, only to stop at the swiping of the woman’s hand through the air, her gesture insinuating that such an explanation is not warranted. “It’s all good. No big deal” Elaine assures, making a quick jog over to the ball before tossing it over the divide between their yards.

“Thank you, Mrs. Carrion” the gentleman responds, hearing the chipper cheer of his son catch his ear as the young lad reclaims the ball that rolls to a stop near the centre of their yard. Wearing a smile, Elaine watches the father retreat from the fence as the sound of the childish joy comes over the air, its replacement of laughter from the son as his father lifts him through the air with a playful growl only deepening the pleasure she takes from the sight.

Crossing her arms over her chest to prevent the flaps of her unbuttoned shirt from continuing to flap aimlessly in the breeze, Elaine turns back the way she’d come with eyes reclaiming her view of the patio. Briefly and without intending to, the woman’s eyes carry toward the opposite end of the yard from the one that she’d come from, seeing the difference in activity between one neighbouring home and the other.

On the backyard shared with the relatively young family, the Carrion household’s fence is a newer-appearing, hardwood-finished structure stained properly for the elements of their harsh summers and cruel winters. On the opposite end, an old fence finished off with a muddy brown shade of paint separates her backyard from the elderly couple who’d purchased the nearby property a few years prior.

Instead of a young father playing with his child in the backyard to the sound of childish laughter, an old couple spend their times on particularly sunny days surrounded by plants and bird baths attended to by people paid for such a purpose, the sound of nature in all directions affording the currently-unoccupied rear field an elderly patience.

Calm and unimposing, the older fence takes Elaine’s intrigue and prompts her feet to begin moving in its direction, her mind wrapping around its presence and the yard that sits opposite the one she ventures from. Letting her arms fall to either side, the mother traipses across the lawn and peers through the slits in between each wooden post, looking into a lovely and well-groomed backyard to find peace and tranquillity, nothing youthful of note to be found aside from the relatively young plants that sit within loose, fresh soil.

Not meaning to intrude upon the privacy of the neighbouring couple, Elaine pulls away from the divider of the two lawns and stares out toward the treeline, which simply remains as it always had been when the property was bought- stretching a few dozen yards to the next set of residential homes on the opposite side. Finding a calmness coming over her, the woman presses the corner of her mouth into the side of her face whilst letting her eyes follow whatever they wish to.

Finding very little worth writing home about, the woman’s eyes wander the length of the old, rickety fence before finding an oddly light stretch of carvings near the very end of it, the border with the woods having proven to be an easy passage worth crossing. Intrigued by this surprising opening in the divider between their homes, Elaine approaches the treeline and continues wandering through it for about ten yards, eying the light tone of scrapings near its end.

Stepping over a few branches and walking around massive tree trunks ripping through the air like a plane defying what our beliefs of gravity had evolved to, Elaine closes in on the carvings at the end of the divider, looking at them in the way that they’re presented, meant for the eyes of anyone who’d been aware that they were there.

Within a circle with spikes protruding from the edges, the letters ‘S+C’ reside within a field likely carved with a typical kitchen knife, the unprofessional and amateur job appearing to come directly from the hands of a set of children. Parting her lips as she looks at the display, the mother takes on a look of dread without difficulty in deciphering what was meant within the symbolic gesture, her arms crossing again once more as her eyes take to the home the elderly couple now reside within.

Her jubilation having now begun to take the form of sorrow, Elaine lets her face fall toward the ground as she stands with the depressing discovery, one that has come to age with time as poorly as milk would.

|

> Friday, 26th August 2039 <

Licking her moist lips as she sets her water flosser down, Liv departs the bathroom and casually makes for her regular quarters, fastening the fur rope of her robe around her waist as she closes the door behind herself. Venturing over to her desk before stuffing a few textbooks into her bag, the young woman clears her workspace and takes a seat upon it, looking through the window just beside herself to the mostly-empty road outside.

Aside from a car parked on the side of the road every few dozen feet, the quiet street hosts nothing more than a few lamps every now and then, brightening the roadway for safe passage that its past has- at times- not hosted regardless of intent. Leaning back in her seat, Liv takes in the sight that she doesn’t pay much mind to very often, letting it sit within her before reaching for her laptop, sliding its thin cover open to reveal a screen that brightens the second it’s beckoned for.

Having taken a glass of orange juice with her along her journey to the home’s second level, Liv sips from her beverage as she opens up her school email, immediately being met with an important notice concerning its future closure in less than one year’s time. Disregarding the newsletter, the young woman pans over to the blue and pink-coloured logo near the toolbar at the base of her screen, clicking on it to reveal a wall of different information, pictures, and weather patterns.

Frowning at the variety of illustrations popping up on her screen, the young woman instead lifts her cursor to the toolbar at hand, hovering her fingertips over the keyboard that she’s at first reluctant to begin typing away at. With furrowed brows, Liv thinks quietly to herself before typing in the name of her school, eventually being forced to repeat the process with her town’s name added to the end of it.

“School with troubled history announces impending closure for the summer of 2040” the first headline reads, depicting an image of the building’s front entrance for the young woman to find, her cursor reaching for the bar at the side of the page to scroll further downard. “Murder Sophie Amari’s high school is expected to close in 2040” the next headline reads, going without an image that the browser presents, instead just filling the text box with the bold, black lettering.

“School of horrors plans to close in 2040” the next information box reads in writings more akin to the announcement that war has broken out in a far away country, masquerading as breaking news worth the public being made aware of. Thinking twice before doing so, Liv takes the cursor to the third box and clicks on the article, waiting for the page to load before finding a pair of noteworthy faces finding her eyes through the historical pictures that accompany them.

Split into two, a large box presents a pair of images that mostly draw the website looker’s eyes toward the left. Just as she’d always known it to be, the younger face of Liv’s sister appears upon a promotional poster for the documentary that was cancelled before it ever got the chance to release to the public. Plastered upon a poster board outside of a movie theatre, Sophie’s face finds itself in the hands of a theatre employee being carried away from its display near the front counter. 

To the right of her sister’s photograph, the childish face of Coleen- no older than ten- sits at the centre of her mother and father, who would go on to partake in a family picture that would haunt the world in hindsight more than it would spark memories of joy. “Left, the poster for Sophie Amari’s unreleased documentary is carried away following the announcement of her crimes” the article’s thumbnail reads in its description, “right, the Wolf family portrait features young daughter, Coleen, who- alongside her mother- was murdered by Tom Wolf.”

Staring at the screen, Liv lets out a deep and depressing sigh whilst leaning back in her chair, tucking her hands into her pockets as she lets the unsettling image sit within her view. Unsure of how else to react, the young girl feels the knuckle of her dominant hand’s index finger graze a piece of discarded paper still in her pocket, prompting her to retrieve it in search of answers.

Immediately going wide-eyed at the sight of a number scrawled down on the chewing gum wrapper, Liv shakes her head with a grin and tosses the note onto her desk, returning her sights toward the computer’s screen. Allowing the disturbing thumbnail continue to linger within the boundaries of her attention, the girl gently swipes at the trace pad and allows the chill-inducing sensation to roll down her back, finding further photographs down the length of the page.

At first, Sophie’s mother appears in a box, her visage appearing in a photograph alongside friends from before she’d had her only daughter, doing little to strike a chord with the girl at her desk’s behest. Scrolling down further, Liv finds the face of a girl she’d had very few interactions with, the girl’s lonely illustration preceding another one within the company of a man much more familiar with the high school senior.

“Isabelle Whitehead and Caden Nurse, pictured here, were victims of Sophie’s crimes in the aftermath of Morgan Amari’s death” the picture’s description reads, paid no mind by the website browser as she simply stares into the photograph attached to it, unable to shake the weight within her chest at the young man’s sight.

Clearing her throat, Liv chooses to forgo continuing to leave herself troubled in favour of reaching for the laptop’s screen and closing it, offering it a return to the limbo it had undertaken prior to her return to the room. Leaning back in her seat, the young woman finishes off her drink before pressing the palm of her hand against her workspace and preparing to return the glass to the kitchen one story below.

Instead, the tips of her fingers press upon the forgettable wrapper once more, rustling it just slightly as she climbs out of her chair, prompting the young woman to look at it once more with consideration that her friend had asked her to take. Squinting toward the number that she sees when pulling her hand back, Liv continues to hold the glass by her side before looking toward the device on her wrist with contemplation, unsure of whether or not the act is one she feels strongly over, but certain that the idea has her hooked enough to leave her within deep thought.

== Generation Alpha ==