Creative Writing the Thirteenth

Dance Till You're Dead Chapter One: Why Can't We Change?

     Silas gazes upon the dilapidated city from an old garage, a sign hangs above it with the paint chipping off, "Saylor Robotics". The sun shines bright in the sky yet the clouds are a dull grey, as if they too mourn the loss of the Earth. He sighs and gazes down at his arm that lays on a dirty rugged table, its wires exposed. Slits of the sunlight leak into the garage and creeps up on his metallic arm making it shine ever so slightly, which contrasts from his dark cocoa skin.

     A man wearing a dirtied jumpsuit steps into the room from a door located on one of the sides of the walls making Silas turn his head. The man looks at his broken arm and shakes his head before sitting down on a small, rusty mechanic roller seat before gliding over to him.

     "What did you do now Silas?" He says as he takes a screwdriver from under his seat. The name "Saylor" can be seen crudely stitched on his jumpsuit.

     "Look dad, I was just trying to collect more scrap metal with Kidd but he kept wandering off! I was trying to find him again when I slipped and fell, now I can't move my arm!"

     "Did Kidd help you get home?" Saylor starts fixing his son's arm.

     "No! I still haven't found him..." Silas watches him work. "I don't know where he went off to, he probably ditched me to perform for some stupid girls..."

     "Oh, Kidd wouldn't do that, he most likely just wandered off in the wrong direction," Saylor reaches under his seat again to grab a smaller screwdriver. "I'll help you find him when I'm done working on your arm, okay?"

     "Okay..." He looks out the open garage door once more hoping his father was right and Kidd didn't ditch him. He's his only true friend, his brother; even if they aren't related by blood. None of the other kids his age hangs out with him, he's only known as "Kidd's brother" or "that widower's weird son". They all see him as a loner, someone who thinks too much. No one thinks here, they only go by their stupid feelings. "Why can't we change?" He thinks, but no one ever gives him an honest answer, they just brush him off. He never felt at home in this city, if you can even call it that anymore.

     "There," Saylor says as he screws in the last screw. "Try to move your arm now."

     He glances at his father before looking down at his arm and slowly wiggles each of his fingers before fully moving his arm. Silas was born without his right arm, so when he was little, Saylor made him one out of old robot parts he had lying around his garage. "Thanks."

     "Anytime," he chuckles a little. "If you keep messing up your arm, I'll have to start charging yah like the rest of my costumers!"

     "Heh...heh, good one dad." He stands up and fixes his dark, poofy, curly hair before looking around. "Hey, did I-"
     "Leave your jacket before you left? It's in the house, I folded it and put it on your mattress."

     "Oh, uh...thanks." He enters the same doorway Saylor walked out of, leading him into a service area, which is turned into their living space, of an auto repair shop they claimed as their home. He walks over where car parts used to be stored and spots his old mattress laying on the ground in the corner of the room, his leather jacket laying on top of it. He picks it up and unfolds it before inspecting it, making sure none of his bottle cap pins fell off. Once everything seems to be in place his puts it on, the worn jacket now covering a bit of his torn purple tank top. Once it's on, he sits down on his mattress and pulls out a small torn picture from under it. The image consists of his father, a young Silas, and a woman, looking a bit under the weather. He gently rubs his thumb over his mother's face and kisses it before staring at it again, rubbing it along his gloved palms. He would give anything in this horrid world just to see her one last time. People always tell him he has his mother's eyes and smile but it only hurts when they tell him; it just makes him miss her even more.

     After a moment or two he wipes his eyes and puts the photo under his mattress again before standing back up, time to look for Kidd. As he walks towards the garage, he hears a second voice that sounds awfully familiar. He narrows his eyes and steps in to see a tall robot talking to Saylor. The bright colors on his torn hoodie can still be seen perfectly even if it's dulled, the same can be said for the backwards hat. The hands can be seen with fingerless gloves like Silas's but more colorful. No arms are seen in sight to hold the hands in place so they simply hover near the robotic body which produces a quiet whirring noise, coming from the small fans inside of them.

     "Look at who I found Silas! He walked in here looking for you!" Saylor says as he shifts his gaze to him. Kidd turns his head towards Silas to reveal a tuff of blond metal hair.

     "Silas! My Dude!" Kidd's hands hover towards him to pull him into a hug; soundwaves can be seen through his glass mouth as he speaks. "Where have you been bro?"
     "Looking for you," he squirms and glares into Kidd's plus shaped pupils. "Where the hell were you?"

     "Oh! Sorry about that bro, I saw something shiny in the distance to find two hot robot chicks with one of those little disco ball dudes!"

     "...Uh-huh." Silas's face saddens, he did ditch him.

     "I'm really sorry dude! I was going to come back but-"

     "Save it. You always do this! Ever since you became a famous DJ you've been blowing me off! Why can't you be there for me like you used to?"

     "Relax, we were just picking up metal!" Kidd's hands hover to his hips.

     "Boys please," Saylor gets in between them trying to calm down the argument.

     "That's not the point Kidd!" He huffs and crosses his arms. "Whatever..." He storms out of the garage, kicking a few bolts with his boots.

     "Silas! Where are you going?" Saylor tries to walk after him but Silas doesn't answer and keeps going, not even looking back.

     "He needs to take a chill pill; I wasn't even gone for that long!"

     Saylor stops and looks at Silas worryingly before looking back at Kidd, he has changed. He was originally built to help Silas cope with the death of his mother but now he can't even pick up scrap metal with him.

     Silas looks up at the setting sun as he walks further away from his home, his dark skin bathing in the orange tint. Rave music can be heard booming in the distance along with a few excited shouts. Everyone here is the same, why can't they be like the Preppers? "I bet they don't ditch their brothers..." He mumbles to himself. He feels trapped here, like he can't breathe. He wants to escape. No, He needs to escape.