4 Chapter 4

I still don't know what to make of all of this; it's so strange. I quietly crawl out the window and jump down from the garage, taking out my phone and scanning the poster again. Last seen at Hawthorne Park.

Hawthorne Park is the only place in our town that isn't neat and perfect. It's really a garbage dump, but we call it a park so it sounds clean, even though it isn't. Why was Thomas at the dump? No one goes there except for the outcasts. They're people who are deemed "unfit" to live here in Hawthorne, so they're either forced to move out or live at Hawthorne Park. "Trash with trash," as my dad always says.

I've never been to Hawthorne Park before; I've never even seen it. All I know is that it isn't a place that you want to be. I have to go there, though. To find him.

After what seems like forever, I arrive at the "park." Getting off my bike, I take in my surroundings quietly. The ground is coated in mounds of trash. It's filthy, flies everywhere. And don't even get me started on the smell. I take a few steps forward to investigate, and that's when the screaming starts.

I throw my hands up in surrender, like I've seen people do on TV. I'm not exactly allowed to watch TV; Article IV of the Hawthorne Code prohibits people under 18 from viewing, but I can be a little sneaky sometimes. A shadow emerges from behind a pile of garbage. A shadow of a person. I don't know if that fact makes me relieved or terrified. Before I can make up my mind, the shadow comes closer and I realize that its owner is a boy. He's wearing torn blue jeans and a filthy shirt that I think used to be white. "Are- are you Thomas? Thomas Freeman?" I choke out.

"I suppose so..." he answered after hesitating for a moment. "At least, that's what my parents named me."

"But you're missing! You were supposed to be kidnapped, there was a poster and everything!"

His face darkened, "No. I haven't been kidnapped. I ran away. Their brainwashing doesn't work on me."

"Brainwashing?" I ask, wrinkling my nose. "What do you mean?"

Thomas turns away, "You shouldn't be here. You're just like the rest of them; a mindless zombie."

"How dare you say that?!" I yell, my temper getting the better of me. "I got in trouble with my parents, broke the law, lied, ran away, broke into a house, and I did all of that just to find you! I deserve to know what's going on!"

He takes a step closer cautiously, his voice softening slightly. "I didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry, honest. Here... come sit down? I'll explain it."

Frowning a little, I follow him to a worn-out couch. It's old and dirty and there's a spring sticking out of it, but at this point I don't care, sitting down. He sits down next to me, "Okay. What I'm gonna tell you... it's gonna be hard to process. But you can't interrupt, alright?"

I nod in agreement, and he begins.

"So, life was pretty great until about a month ago, when I woke up in the middle of the night and heard my parents arguing. It was past the curfew and everything, so they weren't even supposed to be talking, you know? So I was listening and they were like, 'We shouldn't tell him! He is this city's future. He'll tell everyone and the experiment will be ruined.' And I couldn't get to sleep after that. And you know how pretty much everyone has to use the blocked internet that only has sanitized information? Well, my father isn't one of those people, so I hacked his account and looked up 'Hawthorne experiment' and this really weird stuff came up. But there was this one document online that was written by the government. It was really hard to understand and stuff, but it basically said that we're brainwashed to act a certain way, like our parents do, you know? And so do our friends and teachers and stuff. But then they said that there's one boy and one girl in our generation that can resist the brainwashing. And this was written, like, thousands of years ago! And they somehow knew that! I think I'm that boy though, that's the crazy thing. And I ran away to find the girl that resists the brainwashing. So, yeah. I ended up here."

My mouth is hanging wide open; I can't believe it. But the crazy thing is... I think I might be that girl. My mind never worked like everyone else's. I forget things, I run late, and get things wrong. No one else is like that. No one except for me.