S4, E3 | Nothing but a Nuisance at a Noose End

> Saturday, 3rd September 2039 <

“Where are you going?” Andrew wonders aloud, looking toward his daughter as she descends the staircase toward the front door, his arm wrapped around the back of his wife whilst he sinks into the chesterfield, her head resting against his shoulder. “I’m just going out with Derby. She got tickets to a movie” Liv responds, wearing an emerald green dress and a pair of heels whose fastens wrap around the bottom of her ankles, “we probably won’t be back until late.”

“Alright, just get home in one piece” Andrew responds, looking back toward the flat screen across the room whilst his wife wears a wide grin, eyebrows lifting in amusement as she turns her face toward her adoptive daughter. “Young lady?” Elaine calls out, re-earning the girl’s focus as her sights had set upon the front door, head rounding the corner and back toward the living room, “I want that skirt pulled down a few more inches before you leave this house.”

Looking toward the base of her dress resting just beneath the halfway mark of her thigh, Liv does as instructed as best as the wardrobe will allow her, tugging on it with as much strength as she can muster. “That’s good enough. Have a good time” Elaine remarks, settling back into the comfort of her husband’s side as the young woman steps through the front door, having brought the dress down as far as it’ll allow her to.

“I thought being the overbearing parent was supposed to be my job” Andrew jokes, hearing a humoured chuckle take shape from his wife as she nestles into him. “It would be if you could tell your ass from your elbow” Elaine quips back, catching the man by surprise enough to prevent him from responding at first, his expression taking on a look of confusion as the distant sound of a car veering off for greater pastures sounds off from just in front of the home.

“Do you really think she’s going to see a movie with Derby dressed like that?” Elaine inquires, pulling her head back to look her husband in the eyes, continuing to see the loss in the man’s eyes. “When you go out to see a movie with your friends, you wear jeans, a t-shirt and maybe a jacket around this time of the year” the woman doubles down, trying to break it down in Layman’s terms, “the only time you dress like that is when you’re going out to see a boy.”

Finally coming along to the same line of thought as his wife, Andrew’s eyes widen slightly as he looks toward the door, his pupils darting toward the window that overlooks their front yard before again heading back to the home’s entrance. “Why would she lie about going to the movies then?” the man questions aloud, already coming to the conclusion that it’s too late to address his daughter now that she’s gone off, only for his nerves to be settled by the sound of his wife’s chuckling.

“For the same reason that I would’ve when I was younger. I was a teenager... they like their privacy” Elaine jokes, sitting upright and inching closer toward her husband, both hands laying atop his shoulder. “But still, I’m her father! She’s never gone out with-” Andrew responds, trying to explain the situation in his head before being talked down from the disappointed ledge.

“Don’t take it personally, honey. She just wants to have something that she can keep for herself and I understand that. It’s just what teenagers do” Elaine calmly reassures, watching her lover’s eyes take toward her face with a disheartened glare, “when there’s something worth telling us, she’ll say something. Until then, just let her live her life. If we’re going to sell this place and move elsewhere, we won’t have any other choice. She’ll be a whole state over anyway.”

Trying to lull himself just as his wife’s promising comments make an attempt at doing, Andrew settles back into his seat whilst the show carries on, coming away from the advertising break whilst Elaine presses further into his side, re-earning his embrace as they set their attention fully upon the resuming episode.

= 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 =

> Monday, 5th September 2039 <

“Did you have a good time?” Derby inquires, having inched her desk in the back of the room closer toward her smiling friend, attempting to keep their conversation away from the ears of the teacher- whose attention is spent scrawling markings across the newly-installed whiteboard at the front of the room.

“He was very sweet and reassuring” Liv responds, keeping her face held toward the desk’s surface whilst leaning her chin toward the side, addressing her pal’s comment with a soft voice. “You say that like the two of you went steady. Speak like a normal person, please” Derby jokes, sharing a hiss-like chuckle as the teacher carries on, paying the conversation no mind in favour of breaking down the lesson they’re meant to be in the middle of.

“He was polite, he pulled out my chair, we talked for a bit, ate dinner and then he drove me home” Liv responds, letting the fabrics of her sweater graze the oddly-cold seat she’s meant to suffer the next twenty minutes of class through. “He’s funny, he seems to be pretty smart, and he’s a lot more charming than I gave him credit for” the young woman carries on, pausing as the teacher steps away from the board out of fear of being caught.

“Does anyone want to give me an example of when it is not to be used?” Mrs. Danielson questions aloud, staring into the display at the back of the room for a lifted hand that fails to present itself within her physical class. Continuing to wait, the woman watches as a limb extends from near the rear wall, calling for her attention and surrendering her from the agonising wait of volunteer work.

“Go ahead, Olivia” Mrs. Danielson replies, watching Derby lean closer toward the woman’s side at the call of her name, pretending to be interested in the answer that her friend provides. “You wouldn’t use the semicolon when your first sentence isn’t a complete one” Liv responds, watching the teacher proudly point toward her with a wide smile.

“Correct! And why not?” Mrs. Danielson inquires, doubling down on the student’s offer to embark upon a back and forth with a reciprocating audience. “Because it’s a replacement for alternative punctuation when presented with two complete sentences; you don’t have to insert a period or a colon when both sentences have a definitive start and conclusion of their own.”

“Well done” Mrs. Danielson proclaims, throwing her pointer in the woman’s direction once more before spinning toward the board, continuing to scrawl upon it and unknowingly afford her students further time to converse with each other. “After we kept talking for about twenty minutes, he started coming out of the anxious shell you were talking about” Liv doubles down, leaning closer toward her friend and returning her voice to its prior whisper, “he started to melt into a more confident person.”

“He sounds like he’s just your type” Derby replies with a smile, watching her friend pull back to sit upright in her chair with a grin, not caring to respond to the comment, but showing her humour in it. For the final stretch of class, the girls await the bell that lets them spill into the hallway, taking their first opportunities to do so before the conversation resumes in the place that it had left off, the trail that separates them from their lockers not being spent in silence.

“What was it like?” Derby questions aloud, trailing a lone step behind Liv as their march carries them onward toward the lockers, a shake in the older woman’s head carried back. “If you wanted to know, you should’ve been the one to date him” the leading young lady responds, prompting her now slightly-shorter acquaintance to roll her eyes.

“That’s not how this is supposed to go” Derby responds, further amusing the young woman ahead of her, each step tapping against the ground with a faint and barely-noticeable thud. “From what I see in the movies, friends are supposed to tell them every intricate detail down to scent of cologne they were wearing” the alternative student comments, rounding the corner as they finally arrive at Liv’s destination, “then, we romanticise all the little things they do and start going over how to combine your names together.”

“I think you’ve been watching the wrong movies” the subject of interest replies, exchanging one set of textbooks in favour of another before closing it shut, running through the process like a professional. “That was the first date you’ve ever gone on and it was with a guy that seems decent enough to be worth holding out a shred of hope for” Derby concludes, watching her friend begin backward stepping toward her next class, “at least give me something to latch onto.”

“He was a gentleman and that’s all you need to know” Liv replies with a wink and smile, turning away with her friend mostly left in the dark, unsure of what to make from the faintest information that she’s been offered. Rolling her eyes with a playful dissatisfaction, Derby shakes her head in disapproval as her friend walks off, forcing her to prepare for the next class period without a metaphorical bone to chew on.

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> Wednesday, 14th September 2039 <

Laying upon her thin mattress with both hands resting atop her stomach, Sophie stares at the ceiling to her cell whilst a set of footsteps draw closer, their loud, thudding steps sounding as if they’re meant to be approaching until they suddenly stop. “Ms. Amari...” a guard proclaims, earning the woman’s attention as the girl sits upright on the top bunk of her bed, elbows pressing into the thin support to present her with the sight of the uniformed gentleman, “...you have a visitor.”

Aggressive and deafening, the tone of a buzzer fires through the narrow corridor separating the prison’s inner workings from the communal area where a woman resides, looking toward the guard as Sophie steps around him. “You hadn’t called in a while. I was beginning to grow worried” Elaine comments, seated at a table in the centre of an empty room, both hands lying flat upon the platform’s surface.

“I try to keep my head low. I don’t really want to ask for phone time more often than I should” Sophie responds, confidently approaching the table as the guard who’d escorted her stands by, watching from the side of the room with his hands coupled at his waist. “I understand. It doesn’t make me any less worried about you” Elaine replies, clearly wearing relief in her face at the sight of her husband’s oldest daughter, her good health bringing comfort to her nerves.

“Why be worried?” Sophie inquires, lowering herself into the seat opposite her father’s wife with lowered eyes, “my health doesn’t matter to you.” Tilting her head to the side with a sorrowful look in her eyes, Elaine shakes her head in refusal as she takes on a more polite and reserved tone of voice. “Don’t talk like that. You know that I care about you” the visitor assures, doing little to change the hesitant expression carried over the inmate’s face.

“Me dying in here would benefit you more than anything else. Don’t sit here like nothing's changed about our visits” Sophie rebuttals, finding a method of challenging the claim that her would-be adoptive mother makes. “I’m sure you still haven’t told dad that you’re in contact with me. These drop-ins are just as secretive as they’ve always been” the inmate continues on, not offering a lie in her comments, “you wouldn’t have to hide any of this if I wasn’t here to be a burden on you.”

“You are not a burden on me, Sophie” Elaine reassures, watching the woman’s unchanged demeanour carry her expression forward, a look of defeat and slight despair held within the inmate’s visage. “One day, I’ll get Andrew to see sense in all of this. I’m not sure when, but I’ll find a way” the visiting mother doubles down, watching her husband’s oldest daughter lower her eyes dishearteningly.

Her hairs having turned back to their natural brown colour, Sophie stares at the table’s platform with the palms of her hands facing each other, the tips of her fingers gently pressing against those opposite them before a pair of warm hands rest atop them. “I don’t care what he thinks about you. I don’t like what you did to get in here, but I still love you like a daughter” Elaine promises, watching the depressed inmate’s eyes lift toward those of her own.

Beginning to well with tears, Sophie’s eyes look down once more before her head shakes, the gentle pull of her coupled hands taking them away from her father’s wife as they lift to wipe the waterworks away. “As much as I regret everything that I did, that’s not going to change the fact that I’m always going to be viewed as a danger to society” the inmate confesses, shaking her head the shrug of her shoulders, making peace with what she’s had many years to accept, “they’re not going to let me out until they can’t keep me in.”

“The guards say that you’ve been a model prisoner here, dear. Don’t count your eggs assuming they’re not going to hatch” Elaine assures, only to hear the inmate begin to chuckle, the brief amusement prompting the stationed guard to pay more attention to the interaction. “I don’t even think I would want them to let me out at this rate, Elaine” Sophie confesses, the slump in her shoulders making it clear that spirits are the furthest thing from being high.

“I’d have nowhere to go. I’d be chucked out onto the street with a pair of clothes that I might not even fit into anymore” she continues, painting a picture that becomes harder to refuse the more detailed that it becomes. “My sentence comes up in the winter time. I’d walk an ice-covered road without a jacket. The sky would be dark, it’d be late in the day, and I’d have nothing” the young woman continues on, “the wind would chap my lips and the frost would make my knees shiver.”

“You’re not going to be on your own, Sophie” Elaine retorts, only to find the calm argument of the woman opposite her to prevent any true light-heartedness from coming over the conversation. “I didn’t even finish high school, Elaine. I’d be out there on my own struggling to even get hired to serve coffee. You and dad would probably be in a retirement home on the verge of death while Liv works as a nurse somewhere” Sophie proceeds, “all that matters is that I wouldn’t even know how to start over.”

“That’s not how this works, kid” the large-framed security guard comments from afar, only to watch the young woman’s face turn around toward him, taking his interjection as an invitation for further retort. “By the time that I’d get released, I’ll have already spent two-thirds of my life behind these walls” Sophie quips back, her pessimism presenting itself in full, “the world I’d be going back into may not remember me at first, but I won’t be able to introduce myself to anyone without becoming the target of attention.”

“Look, you got in here when you were young. I don’t blame you for feeling like all of this is helpless” the guard explains, more open to interacting with the inmate on account of her decent behaviour, “they’d enrol you in some programs and help you get back on your feet.”

“The programs aren’t enough” Sophie replies, turning back toward her mother figure with a defeated sigh, eyes pressing shut and hand rubbing against the top of her forehead.

“The programs are never enough, but they are a start” the man concedes, accepting the young woman’s point of view before shrugging, “the point is that- when you get out of this place- where you go will be up for you to decide.”

“Sophie, there’s no reason to lose hope even if you think there is” Elaine reassures, taking the young woman’s hands back into the soft grasp of her own, providing words of consolation that act like a fishing line her husband’s daughter can’t find the energy to bite at. Losing herself into thought instead, Sophie stares at the centre of the table and lets her dark locks fall in front of her face, shielding the distraught visage that takes shape upon it.

Pressing its wet tip against her bottom lip, Sophie’s tongue dives further into the soft flesh just above her head as it begins to shake, refusing to buy into the hopeful comments uttered. “There’s no point” she sighs in a near-whisper, inevitably lifting her eyes through the strands that fall in front of them to find her father’s wife looking toward her with as much of a pleasant grin as she can present, “you can’t start over in this life... You just move onto what comes next.”

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> Thursday, 15th September 2039 <

“Welcome to the Home Jungle off the Rolling Hills, feel free to...” Andrew greets, rounding the corner to approach the front counter, taking notice of the figure that looks around quickly at first, caught by surprise at how soon the greeting came after the ringing of the bell just overhead. “Oh, sir... We don’t let dogs inside” the store-owner remarks, taking immediate notice of the leash that the patron holds, keeping the well-mannered German Shepherd at bay.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude...” the polite stranger remarks, extending his hand toward the friendly-appearing canine standing beside himself, “some guy tried to steal him a few months ago. I haven’t liked leaving him behind ever since.” Wiping his dirty hands with a rag that he soon lowers to the countertop, Andrew looks to the customer before passing a glance toward the animal, a reluctant and strong expression carried in his hesitant face.

“Alright, as long as he doesn’t eat any of the plants or take a shit in the middle of my store... I’ll make this one exception” Andrew responds, rounding the corner to attend to the needs of his patron, who politely remains standing by just as his canine friend does, “what can I do you for?” Relieved and with a grin, the pale-skinned gentleman with narrow glasses and a short, dirty blonde haircut steps forward, his furry friend matching each step with one of his own.

“I was hoping to get my wife a colourful set of flowers. Something that’s both lively, but also looks pretty solid- if that makes any sense?” the man remarks, unable to receive his answer before extending his hand and introducing himself, “I’m Cliff, by the way.”

“Andrew. Is there anything more specific that you’re looking for?” the shop owner replies, reciprocating the gesture before planting both hands onto his hips, “an assortment spilling over the edges of the pot? One that’s more tidy and stuffed together? One with bright colours? Solid colours? A mixture of both?”

“Gee, I’m not really sure. I think I can picture it if I saw it, but I’m not really good with these things” Cliff responds, gritting his teeth together as his eyes wander off to the side, “our daughter got in trouble at school for advice that I gave her and I’d like something to prevent the missus from going too hard on me when I tell her.”

“Well, if I know anything about being married... The second that I show up with flowers for no reason, they automatically assume that something’s wrong” Andrew remarks, sharing a laugh with the patron, who grimaces at the future he knows that he’s in store for. “She was going through a rough time with this other girl in her class and didn’t like the advice that mom gave her” Cliff confesses, removing his glasses to wipe at his exhausted eyes, “so dad told her to get the girl to leave her alone by whatever means necessary.”

“Should I bother asking what the result was or would it be better if you could get your lawyers to bring me in for jury duty when you’re called into court?” the store owner jokes, again sharing a laugh with the patron. “She took a book and threw it at the girl’s head. Dad’s advice led to a bloody nose for the bully and a two-week suspension” Cliff assures, hearing the amused inhale that comes from the shop operator as the man’s arms cross.

“Yeah, I’m not going to fall into the trap of defending something that... Well, can’t be defended” Cliff explains, conceding defeat and looking for any defence he can muster to find, “but I wouldn’t take it back even if I could. I’m a dad... We do whatever we have to for our children.”

Nodding to himself before lifting his chin, Andrew finds a very respectable line to follow with his customer, unable to say anything better himself. “Yes we do” the businessman replies, pulling one hand away to playfully swat the patron’s chest, deciding to present his very best to the man opposite him in lieu of the respectable conclusion, “I think I have just the thing to help a fellow father keep from having to sleep on the couch tonight.”

“God, point me in the direction!” Cliff proclaims with a smile, appreciating the hospitality of the store’s owner as he follows him toward the side of the shop, embracing the light as he steps free from the building’s shadows and enters the adjacent terrace. “It’s got all of the solid, cold colours that you’re looking for against the backdrop of pinks, yellows, and baby blues” Andrew comments, leading the man toward the very end of the building’s extension with a smile on his face, “it’s perfectly manicured and an easy assortment to look after for however long it lives.”

“My god, she’d love it!” Cliff proclaims, calmly snapping his fingers toward the dog at his side as he gently lets go of the leash, allowing the animal to wander slowly and of its own volition, smelling the ground and the flora that surrounds it. “Normally, it’d cost fifty dollars. But- seeing as you’re in need- I’ll give it to you for ten” Andrew explains, surprising the appreciative visitor, “it’ll be effective, but the next time you need to surprise her to dull down some bad news... You should get into the rhythm of buying her smaller house plants.”

“Are you serious?” Cliff questions aloud, graciously taking the custom bush into his possession with a look of awe, “is this a promotional tactic that I’m not aware of but in great luck to receive?” Chuckling as his hands press against either side, Andrew shakes his head whilst looking toward the ground, eventually lifting his sights toward the man opposite himself. “I just have a great appreciation for fathers willing to go the extra mile for their kids” the store owner confesses, “it’s something that I-”

*RUFF, RUFF, RUFF!*

Interrupting the conversation, the man’s furry companion bounces his bark from one side of the terrace to the other, laying down at the direct centre of it and staring toward his owner. “Calm down, Brutus! I know, there are a lot of plants around here, but chill out!” Cliff proclaims, retreating to the leash of his animal as it lays on the ground, his back turned to the store owner, who stares at the animal with wide eyes, aware of what it’s getting at.

“I’m so sorry, I think he’s just overwhelmed by all the colour!” Cliff apologises, quickly retrieving the leash from the ground as the man behind him tries to gather his bearings, disregarding the animal’s outburst as the patron turns back toward him. “They say dogs can only see a few colours, so I imagine that all of this is just a bit much for him” the embarrassed customer pleads, prompting his companion to stand off the floor whilst watching the dismissive sways of the owner’s hand assure him of good will.

“He’s not eating the plants or defecating on the ground. He can bark all he pleases so long as my store stays clean and healthy” Andrew promises, patting his patron on the shoulder as they retreat from the terrace, returning to the inside of the storefront, “let’s get you checked out and on your way so the wife isn’t kept waiting.”

Stepping through the side entrance once more, Andrew holds the door open for his customer and furry friend whilst staring at the ground, reservations held in the direction of the animal’s outburst, wanting to keep from acting out of the ordinary at an event easily able to be passed off as nothing extraordinary.

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> Friday, 16th September 2039 <

Alone in her cell with the door open, Sophie stares at the ceiling whilst pressing both hands against her chest, her teary eyes red and face flushed. Disregarding the set of boots that pass her by just beyond the doorway, the inmate watches her room continue to darken with the lessening daylight beyond the bulletproof window just below the ceiling. Calming her breaths, the woman wraps her dominant hand around the base of the thin object laying atop herself before suddenly replacing her sadness with surprise.

“Ms. Amari...” the familiar-sounding guard remarks, standing in the doorway whilst looking into the wider prison, unable to see the flustered visage that the inmate wears. “I don’t normally speak to the inmates and it’s better if I don’t, but I want to reiterate what I said a few days ago when your mom came to visit” the security carries on, directing his words toward the mostly-empty cell whilst his eyes favour the commons area.

“It may be difficult to become such a person of interest when you get out of here, but it’s not impossible to actually become someone of value after you’re out of here” the man continues, allowed to speak without interruption. “We had an inmate a few years ago get released on good credit time, and he went on to do a few podcasts. Killed a girl in a drunk driving accident and explained his side” the guard carries onward, “he killed himself last year, but he made peace and apologised to the victim’s family. He got closure and gave it back when he could. There’s no reason for lost hope.”

With a runny nose and damp eyelids, Sophie stares at the man’s outline in the doorway, unable to make out features beyond the shape of his silhouette. “It’s not what you may have hoped for growing up, but you will be able to make a life for yourself when you get out of here” the guard concludes, turning his head to look into the cell, unable to see the face that stares at his own, “I just wanted to come by and tell you that. I don’t want to let one of the few non-troublemakers in this prison lose hope that other, less-deserving inmates have too much of.”

Trying her best not to breathe through her nose, Sophie eventually breaks the effort and pulls whatever breath she can in through the obstruction, trying to regain her composure as she sits further up. Hearing the emotional inmate struggle to gather herself, the guard returns his sight toward the communal grouping a few yards ahead, awaiting the reply he knows is being conjured up within the dark confines.

Cooling herself off, Sophie lets a long exhale leave her lungs as she stares forward, her bottom lip quivering until she forces it to stop. “Can I ask what your name is?” she wonders aloud, watching the man’s face remain carrying itself forward, his skin as dark as the lack of light that surrounds her quarters, his posture going unchanged as his silence is interrupted with two syllables.

“Darnell” the guard replies, pushing his back away from the door’s frame before beginning to step forward, his deep voice calming the woman stationed within, “goodnight, Ms. Amari.” Without a further utterance, the man wanders off and leaves the inmate to her own devices, the girl’s stuffy frame proceeding to lower itself back upon the paper-thin mattress as her head sinks into the raggedy, uncomfortable pillow.

For a few seconds, she collects herself before glancing toward her chest, feeling the edges of the device her dominant hand had wrapped itself around, the loose second palm pulling itself away from it as she rolls onto her side, facing the concrete wall. Pulling a white brick away from its slot in the room’s side, Sophie returns the sharpened piece of metal to her hideaway hole and returns the stone to its original place, dissuaded from her need for it as she turns onto her back once more.

Sliding down the sides of her eyelids, Sophie’s tears continue to run down her face as she places each hand across her stomach, eyes staring toward the ceiling once more. Slightly reassured, the inmate wears a hopeful smile and lets out a deep breath, closing her lids and letting the tension in her face fall away, melting like snow beneath a summer’s heatwave as she sentences herself to an early night, bidding the day adieu in favour of waking early to start the following one.

== Generation Alpha ==