I woke up that morning. Which was a surprise to me as well as it was to Mapel. He stared at me solemnly until I heard word croak out from his throat. “Water?” He said with a cruel smirk on his face. With the little energy I had I tossed my unmended pillow at him. He laughed as he stood to pick up the pillow. “You won’t get the Col’s attention with that attitude!” As he said this, Lindeloff burst through the hole we dug for him under my bed, so the flatfoots wouldn’t see it. He leaped up on my chest and gave me the gift of a small violet bird. I jumped up quickly and snagged it before Mapel could see it. I was too late. He stuffed it deep down into the small messenger bag he always wore at his side. I fell back on the cold mattress. I lay there until the sun shown through the tiny break in the ceiling above me. Of course “ceiling” is an understatement. The wall behind me swept up into a curve that went up many yards before it hit the wall of the next house. You see we live in a dome. There is no other word I can find to describe it. Your words that we have begun to lose over the years probably could say it better. It feels strange having to explain the domes to someone. It is like trying to tell a person born blind what a sunset looks like. Well actually, that might be hard for me too, considering I’ve never seen one as well. The domes are just part of who we are. This house we lived in is the only one I’ve ever known. I guess for you to understand the domes I would have to start from the beginning. Many years before I was born, there was a war. Some call this war “The war to end all wars.” Clever men built massive bombs and stupid men destroyed each other with them. What was left after was a flat, desolate, wasteland of a planet. For you this might be hard to grasp. Let me put this in simpler terms. Everyone you have ever met is dead. Mapel’s friends are dead. My mother is dead. Everyone is dead. The number of people who survived barely reaches the thousands. The smart ones dug into the ground. My father was one of those. Mapel led few men into the depths with him and they had the unpleasurable duty of having to eat the men who died of starvation. I was only a day old. My mother was killed by a man who wanted her spot. He was the first that we ate. I spent the first five years of my life in those caves. That is why they say my hair is so bright and my skin so pale. When Mapel smelled the air and said it was clear, we moved into the dome. They were built in case the world was made inhospitable. They planted trees. Made an ocean. Made them indestructible. The only thing it now lacks is meat. Oh, there is Lindeloff. He is the only dog known to be left. He belongs to Flora, the only friend I’ve ever known. When we ran out of food, of course the survivors wanted to eat him first. So Flora screamed. She was five at the time but no one has ever forgotten. She had the kind of scream that rattles off of walls deafening anything in her path. I love her. There I said it. I’m a teenager and it was bound to be found out sometime. She has jet black hair and the strangest eyes anyone I know has ever seen. They glow a warm gold like the son. Her pupils are as dark as her hair. Her skin is so dark; when the lights turn off she cannot be seen. Mapel yawned as he put the pot on the stove. He poured in the creamy white substance that we have eaten as long as I can care to remember. I realized that I had been lying there and staring at the curve in the dome for more time then deemed necessary. “Josiah!” Mapel “yelled.” “It is almost time!” After years of pain and having to live in the caves, his voice has grown sort and rasp. So much so that his position as leader was taken away so he could live the rest of his days in peace. I lifted Lindeloff above my head so I could look him in the face. His lemon fur fell towards my face. “Stupid dog,” I sneezed. I tossed him to the ground like the cat that he is. Cats were much more fortunate in this whole “end of the world” thing. There were so many cats left that we cat is now consider a main source of food. Lindeloff, being the only dog left alive, adapted to cat characteristic. Well, he can always land on his paws, but that’s about it. I threw him on my shoulder and trotted over to the bathroom. I shuffled through a drawer until I almost cut myself on the clippers. Upon seeing his special red fur scissors, Lind gave out a small yelp. “Hush now,” I said, as I pulled his fur from his eyes. It might sound a bit girly, but in another life I could’ve been a hair stylist. I am a master with scissors. Shaving, snipping, and styling, I worked my magic on that dog’s hair. “You’re wasting too much time in there!” My father yelled. Mapel was just finishing the chowder when Flora punched her code into the door. “Just ran into another flatfoot,” she exclaimed. “After the Selection they want to recode your door so I cant get in again.” I laughed. Flora always lived with us. In the caves. Here. I hoped she always would. However, it seemed that The Colony always had other ideas. Oh yeah, The Colony. During the time in the caves, these men and women were some sort of leaders. When we left the caves they formed The Colony as a way to remain in control. They were the only form of government we have left. The Colony in our dome is just one in many. They all form as one. All of our rules are the same and frankly, all of our lives are the same. The only difference resides in what we eat. Our dome was conveniently located over an old clam chowder factory. I bet you can imagine what was in the creamy white substance I mentioned earlier. In other domes, they did the same as us and scavenged hoards of food before they ever entered the domes. Since no is allowed outside, we must have some sort of food and word from the exterior world. That is where the only exception to that rule comes in. The Carrier. Carriers do just what you would expect them to do: rid the world of evil, dragon riding gummy bears. Just kidding. I have no real idea what exact job description of a carrier is. All I know is he brings food sometimes and messages for The Colony. More importantly, I don’t know what gummy bears are either. Let alone if they ride dragons and are evil. “JOSIAH LAMAR TURNER!” now Flora was yelling for me. “If you don’t get your head out of the clouds soon, they won’t even call you for Selection!” We both laughed. She knew that no one ever took Selection seriously. It was more of a yearly get-together than anything. I grabbed my bag by the door and kissed Mapel on the head and headed down the hallway. Mapel never went to the Selection. Flora and I always went by ourselves and were always the only kids there without parents. We didn’t care. This year was different. In past years we only received meager chores that we were to do around the dome. Mostly things like clean up garbage and paint a wall or two. This year, Flora and I had turned seventeen. Which meant that instead of small chores, we would get to see what The Colony had decided to do for the rest of our lives. The Selection was never a complex system. Some years it seems like they put kids names in side at hat and chose randomly what position would be theirs. Walking into the auditorium, we saw folks our age sitting with each other. Not having anyone to sit with besides ourselves was not a new feeling for us. Every year, Flora and I chose to sit in the “Poop” Pew. We called it this because the word “poop” was written on every feasible spot of the bench. We felt it fitting to us because we sat alone and poked fun at every person who walked up to the stage. So when they called my name this year I was expecting nothing too different. To say I was wrong would be an understatement. “Turner, Josiah.” Mayor Groundspeak’s voice echoed back to me off the walls. All eyes turned towards the Poop Pew as I awkwardly stood and stumbled up to the stage. As I walked up the cold, marble steps I gave a fake smile to Mayor Groundspeak. She was a harsh, odd, old lady with short blond hair. I have no idea who Hillary Clinton was, but to hear Mapel tell it, our mayor and her could have been the same person. Knowing this I never expected her ever to give me second glance, let alone return my smile. Something was wrong. The rows where The Colony sat were overspread with secretive whispers. Then the strangest thing of all happened. Mapel appeared in the doorway. We met eyes and I mouthed to him “What are you doing here.” He just smiled and nodded his head towards Groundspeak, who was still smiling. This horrified me. All I wanted was a small, dully noted position and to live the rest of my life quietly. “Josiah’s selection took years of consideration,” rumbled Groundspeak. “He is going to be put in a position no man in this room has encountered.” The room went silent. “Josiah Turner is the new Carrier.” My knees almost gave in. This was never supposed to happen. The last thing I saw was Mapel sprinting towards the stage and being tackled by a Colony member. Someone thought it would be a good idea to put a bag over my head to keep me from running. Of course where would I run? There is nowhere I could hide and no leaving the dome. Now two men were standing very close to me and guarding my every movement. That is when I felt Flora put her hand in mine. I pleaded with the guards as we walked off the stage that there was no reason to detain me. I felt tension in my bag and was then blinded by the light that broke into my pupils. Then we walked. Flora and I walked hand in hand saying nothing the entire time, the guards close behind. I actually had no clue where we were going. No one had ever witness a new Carrier been selected before, at least no one alive. The last Carrier was chosen about 50 years ago, before we had even moved into the caves. Whoever he was, he was not in any of the cave systems. That meant he had stayed up here, still fulfilling his mission. Before we inhabited the Domes, they were built in case of alien invasion. Carriers were appointed so they could begin their duty as soon as anything terrible happened. The original Carriers were not chosen by us. They never stepped foot in any of the domes. I realized this as we strode nervously through Geisel. Geisel was the center of our dome. If it can compare to anything you have ever experienced it could be called “down town.” Its streets were always filled with vendors and performers trying to make a quick buck. But none of them mattered to me. I was being marched to my doom. Whenever our parade turned down a corner, all music and festivities stopped to pay their respects. Brave people tried to shove small items in my pockets, to remember them by. I didn’t care about any of their kindness. All I knew is that I was about to die and the lady folk I loved had her hand in mine. That is all that mattered. We walked until I stopped recognizing parts of the dome. I had never been this direction before. Our house was on the other side from where we were going. Then it hit me. Home. I was about to leave everything behind. Lindeloff. This is where I lost control. “NO!” I screamed. The men put the bag back on my head as I whimpered about him coming with me. That’s when the I felt a dart pierce my side. I could vaguely hear Flora’s muffled screams and that was all. My life in the dome was finished. Lindeloff’s tongue flicked spit on my dust-painted face. His breath smelled of fish so I tried to eat his tongue. This wasn’t the smartest thing I have ever done, but I had a bag over my eyes and I was literally starving. Not surprisingly, dog saliva slithering down your throat can really kick you back into your senses. I tore the burlap sack of my face and stumbled up. This caused me to kick a substance in the air I had never seen before. I crumbled some in my hand, intrigued by this material my senses had yet to relish. “You like the dog?” I spun around to see a man who naked from head to toe. This of course through me back a bit. “That is dirt,” He said in a voice that sounded like he had not spoken in a very long time. I just stared at him. “Dirt.” He said again. I continued to stare, making sure not to look down towards the ground. “Where are your clothes?” I finally piped up. “Gone.” He quickly replied. He said this as if this was a completely normal. “Is that dirt too?” I asked pointing to his bare body, except for the brown substance he was caked with. It was. “You learn fast. That good.” He definitely had not said any thing in years. “Why are you out here?” I said. “I carry.” he looked of into the distance as he said this. “You’re a carrier!” I almost yelled. This is not what I expected. He motioned towards two standing silver contraptions that stood on two wheels. “Rider.” He said. “Old folk call them “Segway,” This now your steed. I didn’t know what to do. He got on his and rode off. So I followed. And that’s what I did for twenty years or so. He rode. I followed. We never spoke unless to talk about what to eat. I guess he was supposed to train me. Then he died. I made a basket for Lindeloff to sit in and we rode. This time following no one. When we got back to the dome where we once lived, it was empty. I searched that whole dome a million times. And I realized everyone had died because I had neglected to bring them extra food. So here I stand alone in this abandoned world. Just Lindeloff and me. We will stay as long as we can until we can find some where else. This world is dead. We traveled to all the other domes as well. Everyone was dead there too. This world now belongs to a dog and myself. We will make the best of it. The Carrier 11-12 pg 1