Page 9 of The Commons

Screech… Screech… we are on the ground.

Upon stepping out of the plane, I step onto a large, flat concrete space. It looks like a phone screen. The sky looks like artificial clouds, and cool mist descends from the skies like some sort of ultra-advanced filtration that resembles a humidifier. I assume it is meant to purify the air from the plane’s exhaust.

In the distance, I see other planes with students disembarking. Most planes only have one to two students. That’s some luxury! I hear laughter and eager voices. My heart is pounding like the sound of their drumming steps. I begin to wonder what I am getting myself into, but I shake it off.

Three jets have different languages inscribed on each. “Commonaire Airlines” is written in Mandarin, Dutch, and what seems like Hindi to me. I am trying to read the others when I see ten muscular beings in white. They look like Air Patrons.

“Everyone! This way, quickly. Keep up, or you’ll be going back to whatever village you came from,” the Air Patron in front of our plane commands. I feel annoyed at his arrogant tone, but he is a Patron. I guess they can say and do whatever they want, right? That’s not scary at all.

We follow him as he directs us toward the check in station.

“So, is this how Levon’s orientation was?” I say to my mom, but she is on her phone.

“Mom!”

“What? I don’t remember. Stop asking me useless questions. I’m answering a work email,” my mom whispers, taking a quick peek at the Air Patron, to avoid disrespecting him with a loud voice. I’m not sure why she feels the need to speak so low and be so harsh to me at the same time.

We follow the Air Patron. I feel like a detective. I cannot let myself indulge in the pleasures of The Commons. I cannot forget why I am here. I cannot let myself conform to the system. I must be alert. At all times. For The Commons is my enemy, and it roars like a great lion. I am certain it would not and could not devour me, let alone impress me.

Wow… What the heck!

That building is made of golden dust and water glass. What on earth is that?

I do not react quite so irrationally. My lips are sealed, my eyes observe silently, and I simply walk past the water glass stadium into The Commons like it is any other school.

The Air Patron directs us past a series of triangular, wavy, structured houses. A gray body of water surrounds us, reflecting the buildings.

The Patron instructs, “Enter into the Conosseum, find the hexator elevators, and go to the twentieth floor. When you get off, the scanners will locate you and lead you in the right direction. Parents: Once your child is checked in, you will be required to leave immediately. Don’t make us escort you out.”

Why does everything in The Commons freakin’ start with a C, it is so confusing. I follow the crowd as we enter a giant, round shaped Colosseum-like palace illuminated by lustrous blue lights. Inside, we navigate through a moving forty-eight-story vessel with a circular stairway and pathways of interconnected hexagons. The circular frames rotate the hexagons like a moving elevator. As we approach the seventh floor, my dad holds onto me, terrified.

“He did that to Levon as well,” my mom says. “Scaredy pants!”

“Just because I’m scared of heights—” he defends himself, but stops speaking at the sound of the hexator.

The hexator stops on the twentieth floor. As I take a step out, I feel my feet pulled forward with pressure. “Am I the only one who felt that?” I ask.

“Oh, that happened last time too,” my dad responds. “It’s just how the floors are in The Commons.”

“Oh, I think it’s because they are touch-sensitive floors, so they pull us in the right direction with magnetic force. Now I understand why we had to buy special frictionless shoes,” I deduce.

“Ahh, that’s it, smarty pants!” my dad comments.

I can’t help but smile at his playful praise. It’s nice to be able to spend time with my dad. I almost forget how fun he is to be around. We used to play together all the time before he was roped into the world of politics by my mom.

Around me, I notice a more diverse body of students than those on my plane. I hear some languages I have never heard before. Our files fly to us labeled with our individual names, steered by magnetic levitation and an automated voice. I collect mine from a transparent shape-shifting robot-like box that scans my iris for verification. I continue walking alongside my parents, pretending like I have seen such things before. The Commons is so much more advanced in technology than the entire world, and their building makes a statement to that fact.

We enter a C-shaped, white-domed space made of silver-colored glass. I look up to see an open roof, revealing dark blue skies that appear too filtered to be real. I walk to find my terminal.

There are about one hundred of us in the freshman class, but I am yet to see anyone who is not an upper elite, at least… I think. I see the reflection of my blazing-brown eyes and my long dark hair. I have a striking gaze and a fearless demeanor, yet I feel like an outsider deep inside me.

My dad turns my way, his verdant green eyes merging with mine, noticing my wandering gaze. He thinks I feel insecure, but the truth is, I am trying to find Levon.

She’s almost pale as snow in winter, always warm as the sun in summer, but I could spot my sister from her scent even if she was a mile away from me. If by any chance, I see her, I can run away, and this will all end right here. But I don’t.

My dad holds my hands and whispers to my ear, “Just remember, you are not defined by how other people see you... It will be okay! A little while, four years will come and pass, and we will see each other again!”

I smile at my dad and hug him goodbye. I hate when he gets emotional in situations like this. It makes me want to cry. And I can’t afford to cry right now, in front of everyone. It would be so embarrassing. I put my arms around my mom, who is still writing emails on her phone.