The Second Children | Teen Ink

The Second Children

July 16, 2014
By Brelaw67 PLATINUM, Evansville, Wisconsin
More by this author
Brelaw67 PLATINUM, Evansville, Wisconsin
48 articles 8 photos 10 comments

Favorite Quote:
My own experience is that once a story has been written, one has to cross out the beginning and the end. It is there that we authors do most of our lying.
- Anton Chekhov


Author's note: This story was clearly inspired by the One Child Policy in China. I had strong feelings about this, so I decided that I could use those emotions to write what I feel should happen to the policy. This is my way of trying to depict how all the lost lives. A story that arises from the point of view from an "unborn" child.

“…Parents having one child will be encouraged, and strict measures will be enforced to control the birth of two or more babies. Everything should be done to insure that the natural population growth rate in China falls to zero by 2000.”
- Vice Premier Chen Muhua

Deng Xiaoping created the one child policy in hopes of decreasing famine. The probable cause was overpopulation.
The One Child Policy introduced the idea of only one child legally being born. After one child, the mother would be sterilized or forced to have abortions. The consequences of the One Child Policy would never be foreseen. He would never have known what his policy had caused.

The consequences soon popped up all around China. Those consequences being that China favored boys. This was a major problem because the rate of girls living dropped way below than it had before.
What made this worse was that girls were being abandoned and aborted. If the girl were lucky, she would live with the great chances of being raped, discriminated and beatings.

Deng’s policy did, provide some pros for China. Overpopulation dissipated to the rates China had gone for.

The U.S. had always been against this policy, but that was before certain events occurred.

Overpopulation outstretched all across the world as predicted by Thomas Malthus who stated in his work, An Essay on the Principle of Population (1798), that Earth’s population will become too much for its resources.

The only solution the United Nations could come up with was China’s One Child Policy. For a while, it seemed to work, but that was before we were born. The silhouettes in the background. The abandoned. The forgotten. The second children.

“The U.S. never could’ve predicted the outcomes of the future. In 2017, the overpopulation spread across the world as famines destroyed countries. After this, we decided to encourage the One Child Policy. This ensured our world today. Congratulations everybody! Happy July 28th!”

“Could you shut that thing off?”

I turned around. My mother watched me slyly. She had always been furious on July 28th, the day that the U.S. adopted the child policy. It infuriated her that we celebrated the thought of aborting thousands of little babies. She was a rebel.

“Why can’t I watch it for one day out of the year?” I whined.

I had always been interested in hearing about the history, but she never allowed me to.
“Because your life wasn’t supposed to be allowed. You’re lucky your father was good friends with the man himself,” She replied.

I sighed. I could never do anything. Not with the mark they had given me. I looked down at my forearm as I always seemed to do on July 28th.
The small insignia had almost taken up the space all around my arm. It was kind of cool to look at with the individual lines. The thin crescents on top and bottom with the thicker middle crescent in the middle with an s on top of it. I only wished it was in color, black looked so dull.
“But he allowed me to live so I should be able to see it for once. He was generous enough.” I countered.
She flailed her arms. I could tell she was getting very upset with me.
“Riker, let it go.” She sighed.
“But I’m sixteen! I want to at least know about the man himself!” I argued.
“You know about the rules. You’re not allowed to watch anything of the sort. Not when they’re celebrating getting rid of people like you.” She lectured.
I moaned. Here it comes.
“If you want to go out there and let the world know you’re a second then go ahead, but your father and I won’t say a thing.” She rambled on.
“Then I want to meet him! You only named me after him!” I exclaimed.
She seemed to think this one through while she cut up the onions. I covered my nose. The smell knocked the air out of me. I almost gagged.
“I’ll talk to your father about this later. Now turn the TV off.” She replied.
I turned the TV off, looking to my mother.
She had never accepted any of my pleas before. I wondered what changed her mind this time.
I studied her face. Her light blonde hair fell into her light brown eyes as she diced the onions then mixed them up with the green peppers.
Sometimes it was a bit hard to notice the little details she had. She was so short at 5’4 that I towered over her at 6’0. I almost had to bend over.
The wrinkles that streaked across her forehead were the only indication of what age she really was. You never would’ve been able to tell she was thirty eight if it hadn’t been for the wrinkles.
I looked around. Jesse had to be around here somewhere. He may have hated me, but he still enjoyed the celebrations.
He always liked seeing my mother rebel against the man himself, and he like the cake too.
“Jess, dinner!” Mom shouted.

The stomp of combat boots echoed as he rushed down the stairs. Jesse was a major believer in July 28th. He wore the uniform every year, the combat boots, leather jacket and camouflage pants. He even wore the green shirt, too.

I didn’t understand the hair though. The Mohawk didn’t make him look any better. It was at least three inches above his head. It didn’t match his green eyes either.

Mom glared at him as he sat down.

“Why do you insist on making your brother feel hated,” she spat.

He glared back. If Dad would have been here he would’ve knocked him on his butt, but he wasn’t.

“He’s a second. Of course he’s hated.” He replied in disgust.

I frowned. At least he didn’t lie to my face.

Mom set the plates down in front of us glaring at Jess as she set them down. Her eyes never left his.

“Don’t say that around him! He already feels bad!” She snapped.

He rolled his eyes and took a bite of the mashed potatoes.

I stood up and strolled into my room. My room had always been on the bottom due to my mother’s constant worrying of someone sneaking into the house without her knowing. She didn’t want anyone to try to nab me.

I gazed around the room. It needed to be changed soon. It hadn’t been changed since I was five. I mean, the room was small, but it still deserved some change.

I was tired of having my twin bed up against the window. I was tired of having my dresser next to my TV. I was tired of the nightstand always being under the window behind my bed. The walls had been white for as long as I could remember. I was sixteen. Like I said, it was time for a change.

“Why do you have to make him feel ashamed,” mom snapped.

“He’s a second! I hate seconds! We all hate seconds,” Jess snapped back.

I shut the door. I didn’t want to hear that tonight. I just wanted to chill out on my bed and read a book, a book that made my mind wander.


I yawned laying down on my bed. It must’ve been seven. I didn’t understand why I was so tired. I still had to wait for Dad to get back.

“Riker!” Mom shouted.

I opened the door. There stood Dad holding his bags and gazing at Mom.

“Just talk to him.” Mom mumbled.

He turned to me with a dorky grin.

“So, sixteen years of having a second.” He said.

I nodded. We went through this every year. He tried to talk to me about being a second. He tried cheering me up, Jess and he fought. Blah blah…

“Let’s talk,” he said dropping the bags down.

“I know, my room.” I moaned.

He frowned. I guess he got the memo.

Once the door was shut, the lecture would begin. Dad would sit down on the bed put his hand on my shoulder and say, “you know, you’re a blessing. We’re so glad that we have you. Being a second isn’t a curse,” then he’d say, “don’t pay heed to Jesse’s remarks. He loves you. He just doesn’t know it yet.” It was always the same thing.

I sat down on the bed. Dad soon followed.

“You know…” He started.

“Do we really need to do this? I already know what you’re going to say. If you really want to make me feel better then let me see my namesake.” I interrupted.

He opened his mouth, but nothing seemed to come out. He was speechless, for now. I’d rendered him to silence.

Maybe this year would be different. Maybe I could know a little something about my past.

“Why would you want to see him?” He asked.

I shrugged. Maybe if they told me any other part of my history other than, “out of his generosity came you. That is why you’re so special,” I would feel better and not question everything.

“I want to know something about me. I want to know why he let me live when no one else has. I want to know what he thought of me.” I replied.

Dad rubbed his eyes. He was clearly stressed.

“Riker, you’re a second.” He said.

I nodded. Who cares? He saved me, he obviously didn’t hate seconds.

“Yes, I am and you’re a first.” I smirked.

He dropped his hands to his sides.

“This isn’t a joking matter. You’re talking about the man that slaughtered millions of seconds.” He groaned.

I cleared my throat.

“He is the man that let me live. I just don’t want to be stuck in the dark anymore. Let me see him, Dad.” I begged.

He let go of a deep breath.

“I’ll discuss this with your mother, but even if we do allow it, that doesn’t mean he’ll agree to come see you.” He warned.

I jumped up. The adrenaline shot through my veins.

“Thanks, Dad!” I exclaimed.

He held out his hand. I shook it excitedly.

He shook his head pulling his hand away.

“I’m not sure that you’re ready for this, but we’ll try it.” He replied.

He walked out of the room, probably to get away from my chaos.

That was a wise choice. When I was fired up, it was hard for me to come back down.
I may have been a second, but I could do what everyone else could. I wasn’t the one causing all the famine or chaos. People didn’t need to blame me like they always did. The mark made sure they knew I was a second.
“You seem to have your mind set on meeting the man. I hope he devours you.”
I turned. Jess slumped against my door.
“He won’t. He saved me, a second,” I argued.
He sneered thumping his finger into my chest.
“How do you know he won’t change his mind about you? Maybe he will decide you are a mistake.” He questioned me.
I shook my head. He would never do that to me. He had saved me. He let me live for sixteen years. Why would he kill me now, when he could’ve done it earlier?
“He wouldn’t do that,” I replied.
Jess smirked with his two front teeth sticking out in his toothy grin.
“Whatever. Go back to La La Land and pretend you’re some precious kid like Mom and Dad tell you,” he spat.
I turned around, ignoring Jess. He was just trying to get on my nerves. He wanted to prove himself to the firsts.
I shut the door and slid down it. I didn’t want him near me anymore. He was too mean.

“The Second Children were eliminated two years ago when our own Mr. President discovered the small hideaway in the country of Verona Ville. Now reports say only a few second children still live today. We are still looking for them. They have not escaped yet! We will take back our world! No more Seconds!”

I walked into the kitchen yawning. I needed caffeine. I flung the cupboard door open and gawked at the empty container. No more coffee.

I frowned. I guess I would have to have a soda today. I sulked down the hall and grabbed a Mountain Dew from the 24 pack we had piled up against the wall. Once I returned to the kitchen Jess turned the TV up.

“The seconds are definitely the most hated people in the world. The reason for this is a little peculiar. It seems that the average first blames famine, deaths and money shortages on the seconds, which is understandable. Without the seconds there would be a lot less crisis’ in the world today.”

“Can you please for once try not to make me upset?” I moaned.

Jess turned to me.

“What? I can’t hear you, little second.” He mocked.

I rolled my eyes. He acted so childish.

“Where’s Mom,” I asked.

He turned away.

“She left with Dad,” he replied.

I yawned once again and took a sip of the soda. I needed to wake up. I had to go to school in twenty minutes.

“Where’d they go,” I asked.

“They probably finally realized having you was a mistake and are telling the police about you,” he pestered.

“Whatever. I’ll just see her when we get back from school.” I growled.

Jess turned the TV on as loud as it could go. He loved to make me feel inferior.

I walked into my room. The firsts had it great. No one ever picked on them. No one ever hated them with one look. No one ever held protests against them. They were always honored.

I turned my stereo up blasting it as much as I needed to drown out the TV. The stereo was just barely loud enough to do so.

I picked my favorite song and turned the speakers on around my room. Finally, I could just relieve myself of the discrimination for once, until I got to school.

“Hey, Secs!”
I slowly turned around. The face of Mr. Tubby boy, Michelle. It was gross. You could see each individual layer of fat on his face. Instead of having a double chin, he had a triple. He had freckles too, but you could barely see them because the layers of fat. He had dark green eyes, which stood out from the pale skin he had. I bet he’d never played outside for a day in his life. His hair was barely categorized as a blonde. It was too white.
“What do you want, Michelle?” I snapped.
He sneered glancing at each of his goons.
“I think the kid needs to be taken out today, don’t ya think,” he grinned.
I dropped my backpack and held my arms out. I was ready to fight. Mom didn’t want me to fight at school, but she didn’t see what they did to me every day. I couldn’t just stand there and let them beat on me.
If Dad hadn’t taught me as a little kid I probably would’ve been under the ground.
“Leave me alone, Michelle. I won’t hold back.” I warned.
Michelle snickered.
“Ya think you can take me, second,” he questioned.

I nodded. I had been trained to fight in these situations.

“It doesn’t take much to beat up a sissy,” I insulted.

The grin dropped from his face. Now he stuck his upper lip out pouting like the whiny wuss he was.

“All right, let’s go,” he said.

“Last chance,” I offered.

He began circling me. It was a shame. I hadn’t gotten in a fight for at least a month now. It was a record for me.

I clenched my fists. Michelle swung first. I ducked making Michelle collapse onto the ground. It was somewhat funny. He put so much force into his punch that he knocked himself over.

I looked around. We had a crowd starting. Wonderful. Now he had witnesses against me. I wasn’t going to back down.

The kids watched us intently waiting in anticipation for some blood. I wished Nicholas and Andrea were here right now.

“C’mon Stewart. Stop prancing around and take a punch,” Michelle snapped.

I shook my head. If I had thought of the consequences of my actions before I mouthed off I wouldn’t be in this situation. The firsts in charge of the school district were very biased.

He took another swing and I stepped back. He fell into me. I pushed him back.

“Stop acting like a sissy and punch!” He exclaimed.

He took another swing. I swerved out of the way. The idiot. He ended up punching one of his crew.

“What’s going on here?”

I turned around. Great. The worst teacher in the school, Ms. Heine glared between the two of us. They couldn’t punish me for any damage. I knew where the cameras were and we stood right in front of them. I didn’t throw a punch. All I did was avoid.

“He punched me,” Michelle whined.

He pointed his sissy finger at me with his lip puckered.

“Riker Stewart,” she snapped.

I sighed. I knew the routine.

Michelle grinned.

“I didn’t hit him. Check the cameras. All I did was avoid,” I confessed.

I pointed to the camera behind us all. Michelle’s grin disappeared. I had evidence that I didn’t do a thing. Now he couldn’t blame everything on me.

“To the office, boys!” She snapped.

“We can see who initiated the fight and whatever occurred after,” she continued.

I already strolled down the playground.

“Uh, I don’t think we need to watch the video! He’s a second!” Michelle tried to convince.

Ms. Heine shook her head.

“We need evidence,” she argued.

I chuckled. The malevolent baby.



“So Riker, you’re back.”

I gazed down at the putrid carpet. It looked as though someone had ralphed all over the carpet and left it.

“It’s not my fault. The video shows Michelle starting it! I didn’t do anything,” I protested.

Principal Reese held his hand up.

There was something different about him. His black hair was gelled back as it always was. His dark blue eyes were still the same color. The wrinkles on his face still evaded his age.

I figured it out. It was his suit. He got a new one. It was much more slick than he usually wore. All black except for his undershirt.

“I know you aren’t the perpetrator. I saw the video. You’re not in trouble,” he calmed me.

I looked up at him.

“I’m not?” I questioned.

He shook his head.

“You didn’t swing a punch. That is why you are here. I’m proud of you. This is the first time I don’t have to punish you for a fight,” he replied.

Hmm. This was new.

“You are?” I replied.

“Of course. I remember all the times you’ve been called in here. It’s an improvement,” he said.

“Oh,” I said.

“Since you’ve done so well I’ve managed to get ahold of this,” he said pushing something across the desk.

I gawked at it. It was a candy bar! They were becoming exceedingly rare. I stared at it wide eyed.

“I figured you’d like that. Keep up the good work.” He replied.

He stood up.

“That is all, Mr. Stewart. Keep up the good work. And don’t tell anyone,” he said.

I grabbed the candy bar sticking it into my backpack.

“Thanks, Principal Reese. I’ll try,” I said.

He opened the door forcing a smile. Wow. A first actually treated me with respect. He even got me something that costs hundreds of dollars.

I was sick and tired of the bickering. Jess brought home one of his friends, a first, and they couldn’t quit arguing about what was worse, being a girl or being a second.

It didn’t matter that I was standing right there in front of them. They just wouldn’t quit!

I unlocked the door and opened it.
Hmm, this was odd. Every time Jess and I arrived home from school, Mom would be cooking dinner. I couldn’t smell the aroma of fresh food. There was no steam coming from the kitchen and I couldn’t hear the chopping of vegetables, but the lights were on.

“Mom, we’re home,” I hollered.

I dropped the key into my pocket and peered around the corner. Nothing was on in the kitchen. That was really unusual.

“Mom,” I called.

I saw movement in front of me. My heart sped up. Did something happen to Mom? Was there a robber in our house?

I felt a hand on my shoulder and jerked to the side. A man with dark black clothes stood in front of me. He was African American by the tone of his skin.

“Who are you?” I questioned.

“Are you Riker?” He asked.

I cocked my head. Why did he know my name?

“Riker, it’s all right. This is Mr. Kendrick,”

Mom appeared from my room.

“Why is he here? How do you know him?” I asked.

She blushed a little. The man still had his hand on my shoulder.

“Well…he is with…,” she started.

The man shook his head.

“It’s better if we just show him,” he interrupted.

Mom nodded and grabbed my hand.

“Follow us,” she said.

Mr. Kendrick walked into my room. What was with everyone in my room?

I looked back. Jess and his friend were still outside.

I peered into my room. Dad sat on my chair with a man next to him.
He seemed a bit familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I’d seen him. His slick black hair was brushed back so his bangs wouldn’t stick out. His green eyes were the most familiar. They were so vibrant and speckled with black. His chiseled chin looked familiar too. Who was this man that kept Dad from work? He never missed work and he didn’t get done ‘til at least five.

“This is Riker?” The man asked.

Mr. Kendrick nodded.

The man stood up and stood in front of me.

“Hello, Riker. It’s nice to see you’re well,” he said.

I gave Dad a questioning look. He didn’t say a thing.

“You’re what, sixteen,” he guessed.

“Yes I am,” I replied curiously.

He had some importance about him. It was almost as though it were an aura.

“How’s school going?” He asked.

This was starting to frustrate me. I just wanted to know who the man was. I knew that disregarding my manners wasn’t going to be good. I had to play this right.

“Not the best, but if you don’t mind me asking, who are you?” I questioned.

The man snickered. I looked to my parents. Was he all right?

“You should know. You are the one that asked for my presence,” he grinned.

I gasped. The president sat in my room. The man that saved me from death. My namesake.

“You’re the…the president,” I stuttered.

Why was I so nervous? He was just a regular man. That saved my life and killed millions of people like me.

“President Wright at your service,” he introduced.

He bowed smiling as he did so. I looked to Mom and Dad with a grin. They had managed to do what I wanted for once. They got the one person I wanted to meet in the world.

“So you’re the boy I saved all those years ago,” he stated.

I nodded. Mr. Kendrick took in a view of the room. He seemed to be curious of the only allowed second child. I guess they were stepping into unfamiliar territory.

“I’ve wanted to meet you for as long as I could remember. I have so many questions for you. You don’t know how much this means to me,” I blurted.

He nodded.

“That’s to be expected. I think we need to talk. Alone,” he said.

He looked to my parents and Mr. Kendrick hinting.

“C’mon Mr. and Mrs. Stewart. We can go start dinner,” Mr. Kendrick said.

Dad looked to me a little worried. Whose parents wouldn’t be?

Mr. Kendrick grabbed onto Dad’s shoulder and they stumbled out.

I turned to President Wright. He sat down on my bed.

“Now we may talk,” He announced.

My heart relaxed. I could finally ask the questions of my life. The questions I dreamed of asking for so long. I wanted to ask the questions, but my mouth wouldn’t work. It was as though I had lost my voice.

“Well speak up, son,” he said.

I gulped.

“Why did you save me? I am a second. Seconds are illegal, but you saved me,” I interrogated.

He licked his lips.

“I knew that would pop up. That’s the question I’ve wondered myself. I suppose it was because you were so pure. There was an aura. I couldn’t kill something that special. You were a second, yes, but you were more than just a second. You were something to me,” he explained.

I took this in. That wasn’t the response I expected. I imagined it to be because of Dad. I imagined it being because he felt bad about killing his friend’s kid, but it wasn’t. It was a little unnerving. He said the same thing my parents said to me every day. I was special.

“I feel as though that was the best thing I’ve done while being in office. You are going to do something of great importance. I can see it. I know it,” he said.

He bore into my eyes like everyone always did. My eyes were light blue with gold specks around the irises. Mom compared them to gold in the middle of the ocean. I didn’t see anything of the sort. When I looked into the mirror, I saw a teenage boy with brown hair shaved down to a buzz cut. I saw a teenage boy with blue eyes and gold specks, not the special child everyone saw.

He studied my face. He looked almost worried.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked.

I shook my head. I was utterly confused by his explanation, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

“I’m proud to see that you’ve grown into a nice, polite young man. I couldn’t let my generosity go to waste. Tell me of yourself,” he said.

He crossed his legs.

This was a surprise. Why was President Wright interested in my life? A second’s life?

“What do you want to know?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“How about school? You said that it wasn’t the best,” he suggested.

I gulped. Should I actually tell him how I felt? How I felt of the firsts?

“Tell me why it isn’t the best,” he demanded.

I swallowed hard. I guess it couldn’t hurt to tell the truth.

“You saved me from death, yes, but that didn’t quite save me from all the other dangers. The mark on my forearm allows everyone to know that I am a second. That holds much bias, even from the adults. I’m not supposed to be allowed to live. That makes bullying a lot more,” I started.

He frowned. He even looked a little mad.

“Who does this? Why hasn’t something been done?” He questioned.

I bit down on my lip. I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him.

“I kind of haven’t told my parents,” I mumbled.

He folded his arms sighing.

“They are your parents. You must tell them everything,” He scolded.

I sat down next to him. He wasn’t the only one to take an interest. As weird as I found it that he took to me so well after nothing really happened, I had the same feeling.

“I just don’t want to put more on their shoulders. They already have to deal with being shunned because they have a second. I don’t want to make their lives more unbearable. They don’t deserve it,” I confessed.

He listened and took it all in as I had done for his explanation.

He sat up straight.

“That’s what parents are for. A burden such as yours should not be kept on one’s shoulders,” he replied.

I leaned back. The cushy blue pillow formed to my back.

“But I don’t want to make their lives harder either,” I said.

He shrugged once again.

“That does not matter when it comes down to something like this. Your parents will be notified either way. It’d be better if they heard it from you. Now, tell me whose been giving you trouble,” he commanded.

I peered down. I couldn’t tell him everyone that harassed me. That would take days. It would be the whole school.

“How many?” I asked.

He stared in disbelief.

“That much?” He asked.

I nodded.

He shook his head.

“Promise me something,” He said.

I swallowed. What could he possibly want from me?

“Promise you’ll protect yourself. Don’t let anyone harm you in any way,” he demanded.

That was easy enough. I had already kind of been doing that.

“I promise,” I replied.

He stood up holding onto his stomach. Suddenly a monstrous growl erupted from his stomach.

I stared wide-eyed. I’d never heard it that loud.

“Let’s go eat. I’m starving,” he suggested.

Like I couldn’t tell!

He pulled me up.

The man was a character. I could tell you that.

He opened the door and walked out. The smell of fresh beef broth and baked potatoes filled my nostrils. My own stomach growled at me.

He glanced at me with a crooked smile.

“You’re done?” Mr. Kendrick asked.

President Wright nodded then turned to Mom and Dad.

“You don’t mind if we stay for dinner, do you?” He asked.

Mom looked to Dad. Both looked surprised.

“Of course not!” Dad exclaimed.

President Wright snickered.

“Just like old times, Troy,” he said.

Dad grinned too. The two seemed to want to connect again.

“Just like old times, Riker,” he replied.

The door opened. Jess stomped in with anger covering his face like a mask.

“Mom, where’d Second go to?” He asked.

Once he stepped into the kitchen, his expression changed. He halted and gave Mom a questioning look.

“Is that…” He started.

Mr. Kendrick stepped in front of President Wright.

“Who’s this?” He questioned.

Jess gave a stern look.

“Our first,” Dad replied.

He was clearly disapproving of Jess’s appearance and behavior.

President Wright moved away from Mr. Kendrick.

“It’s alright. I’ll take it from here,” he said.

“Are you p…”Jess started again.

“Yes, I am,” President Wright interrupted.

“You are Jesse. Named after your grandfather. The first born,” he said.

Jess rolled his eyes. He hated being compared to our grandfather, which was all right, because he hated Jess too.

“I suppose you are here, for the second,” Jess groaned.

President Wright gave him a disapproving look. I didn’t think he liked anyone being referred to as a “second”.

“Do you not like your brother?” He asked.

Jess scowled.

“I suppose you do. He’s a second. Aren’t you the vanquisher of seconds?” He questioned.

This brought red to President Wright’s face. It clearly annoyed him that he referred to his killing of millions.

“Those were different. He’s different and I didn’t want to kill, I had to,” he spat.

Mom apologized. President Wright shook his head.

“Do not apologize for someone else’s actions. You have not done anything,” he said.

Mom stepped back and glared at Jess. He glared back.

“Yeah, I can tell that he’s all about Second. You might as well leave it alone,” Jess snipped.

He turned to me.

“Leave it to you to ruin things,” he growled.

I frowned. I didn’t want to make him mad. I didn’t want him to be filled with envy.

He stomped out of the room and up the stairs. He had always dreamed of meeting President Wright and now he had. I did ruin it for him.

“Don’t take it personal, Riker,” Dad said.

I sat down at the table gazing around. My parents looked distraught with Jess’s sudden outburst and President Wright just looked out right angry.

Mr. Kendrick seemed to be mumbling to President Wright, but he watched me. I wasn’t sure why he was so interested in me.

“Riker, help us set the table,” Mom ordered.

President Wright looked over.

“I can help,” he said.

Mom shook her head.

“I won’t make a guest help, Riker can help us out,” she said.

I stood up. Dad still stood there infuriated. His clenching his fists and unclenching them was a sign of that.

“I’ll be back,” Dad grumbled.

President Wright frowned. Dad ran up the stairs. He was angry. Not just regular every day angry, it was a, ‘I’m gonna kill you’, angry.

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Chapter six is not yet completed.

I grabbed the pan of soup and set it down in the middle of the table. President Wright was right behind me with the plate of baked potatoes.

The yelling had become too much for me. I pushed my ear buds into my ears.

The music drowned all the yelling between Dad and Jess. It was very intense. I had never seen Dad so mad before.

President Wright, Mom and Mr. Kendrick had been discussing things about politics that bored me to death so here I was now. Listening to music to blast anything else out. The music took away any other pressures, which allowed me to relax.

Sometimes I wished I were a first. The stress of being a second was immense. Too much for me.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. Mom pointed. Dad and Jess came downstairs. Both looked exhausted. They should’ve been. They were going at it for fifteen minutes.

I took my ear buds out and yawned. It was only six thirty, but I was exhausted as well.

“Alright everyone! It’s time to eat,” Mom announced.

We all gathered around the table and sat down. It was time to eat.


“So how’s work been?” Dad asked President Wright.

President Wright shrugged and picked up a spoonful of Mom’s soup.

“It’s work. It would be better if I didn’t have to hunt people down. I’m glad you called. It’s a good break from all the bitterness I have to do. I can actually be happy about something I’ve done. Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing going into office. It feels as though things have gotten worse,” he huffed.

He glanced at me. I suppose it took a lot out of him having to kill his people. The people he was trying to protect. What’s worse was that they were all babies or tiny children.

“Sometimes I wish I had joined the FBI like you did,” he said.

Dad shook his head.

“You’re a good guy, Riker. Don’t let those thoughts get to your head,” Dad assured.

Every time he said Riker, I turned to him. It was quite annoying.

Jess looked interested. I could tell he wanted to ask about President Wright’s job, but President Wright ignored him. I felt bad for Jess. Everyone did this to him. Jess was stubborn and outright mean, but he liked to have people associate with him too. I wished he could have the experiences I have. I may have been a second, but almost everyone was nice to me once they knew me.

“So do you get to do a lot of exciting things?” Jess asked.

President Wright looked to him.

“Not really, unless you call searching for kids and babies exciting. You would be surprised how many seconds they have hidden,” he replied.

He looked to me.

“You probably wouldn’t like the job. I think you’d be a good politician, though. There’s just something about you that speaks leader,” he proclaimed.

That was new. I always thought I’d be a terrible leader. All I did was speak my mind. In a polite way. I only think of what we could achieve, not what needs to be fixed.

“What is it like to be up on stage every July 28th? Do you like to announce your achievements?” Jess asked.

President Wright kept his eyes on me.

“A very good politician,” he mumbled.

This freaked me out a bit. I looked around the table. Everyone watched me. Was there something on my face?

I wiped my mouth. This didn’t change a thing.

“Well, I’m done. I’m done playing favorites with Second! No one ever pays attention to me!” Jess snapped.

I turned to Jess. He slammed his silverware down. Tears were in his eyes. I frowned. I didn’t like seeing Jess like this. It was rare that he actually broke down like this. I suppose it was because the person he most admired ignored him completely, for me. A second.

“Sit down, Jesse,” Dad demanded.

Jess clenched his jaw and hesitated. He glanced over at President Wright, but he still wasn’t paying attention to Jess. He was staring down at his food.

I stood in front of Jess.

“I’m sorry, Jesse. Don’t leave. I like having you here, plus you can talk to your hero,” I apologized.

He shoved me away. I slammed into the wall hitting my head on something sticking out.

I looked up at Jesse cringing in pain.

“You leave me alone. You’ve ruined this for me,” he spat.

With that, he stormed upstairs.

I clutched my head. It hurt so much. As though I had smashed all the brains in my head.

I sat up. President Wright, Mom and Dad gathered around me. I turned around.

I had hit my head on the shelf. The shelf now laid next to me. I had hit the corner of it. I wouldn’t do that again.

“Are you alright?” President Wright howled.

I nodded.

Dad shook his head.

“I don’t know what to do about that boy,” he said.

“I do; send him to military school like he wanted us to. It’ll teach him a lesson,” Mom replied.

Dad shook his head again.

“That’d be giving him something he wanted. We can’t reward him for his behavior lately,” he argued.

“We can’t leave him like this! He can’t go shoving his brother around and making him feel inferior!” Mom snapped.

President Wright felt around my head probably looking for nobs starting on my head.

I turned my attention to him. They could figure out what to do with Jesse. I loved my brother, but he was starting to get on my nerves. I did all I could to keep being optimistic, but he knew how to push my buttons. And apparently me.

“I don’t think that you hit the shelf hard enough to damage anything or get a nob on the back of your head. You should be fine.” President Wright assured me.

“Thanks,” I forced a smile.

He pulled me up then turned to my parents.

“I think it’s time I should go. The food was good, but I’m a lot more busy than I would like to be,” he announced.

Mom and Dad quit fighting and said their goodbyes. After all that was over Mr. Kendrick whispered something in President Wright’s ear.

President Wright turned to me once again.

“Follow me,” he ordered.

I followed. You never said no to the president. Or anyone of importance at that.

We walked out the door and immediately he pulled me off to the side.

A truck sat outside the house parked in the road. I gazed in. As far as I could see, there were at least three people in it.

I stared into his eyes. He had me pushed up against the house. His face changed completely now that we weren’t around my parents. He looked distressed and almost irate.

This alarmed me. What was he going to do with me? Why did his expression change drastically?

“I meant everything I said in there. You are of importance, but not to me, unless I get to you first.” He blustered.

I gulped. What did that mean? I was only a second. I was of no importance to anyone.

He straightened and his rage disappeared.

“I’m sorry, Riker. That was very immature of me to do,” he frowned.

The sunrays caught every crevice of his face. The shadows outlined everything from the angles of his eyes and the bridge of his nose. The mask of shadows made his holding me back even more cautious.

He pulled back and pulled me up. His face softened, but there was clearly still distress.

“Just promise me one thing before I go. Please,” he begged.

I swallowed hard. The lump on the back of my throat made it very hard to do so.

“I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want,” he replied to my gulp.

“What are you talking about, exactly?” I questioned.

He let go of a deep breath.

“I want you to promise me that you will come with me for a day, even just a few hours,” he said.

Everything stopped or seemed to go in slow motion. Nothing could’ve prepared me for that. Could I really refuse the president?

“Um, I don’t know,” I replied.

Mr. Kendrick leaned in and whispered something into President Wright’s ear.

President Wright pulled back sighing.

“I will be back in a few days. I will expect an answer by then,” he groaned.

He held out his hand for a shake. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. There was something fishy definitely going on around here. He wasn’t telling me something, something very important.

“Goodbye, Riker. I look forward to seeing you again,” he smiled.

He grabbed my hand anyway, pulling me into his hand and shaking fiercely.

I felt a sharp prick. I yelped and quickly pulled my hand back.

I studied my hand. A cut ran down the palm of my hand.

“Ow!” I snapped.

President Wright smirked.

“I forgot to tell you. I need your DNA for studying,” he grinned.

I groaned. My poor hand. He hadn’t even warned me so I could brace for the pain.

He held a vial in his hand. The blood still dripped from my hand.

“I need your hand still,” he sighed.

I bit down on my tongue and gave him my hand. He immediately squeezed it above the vial.

I watched as my blood poured down the side of the vial. It was about four centimeters in diameter. The blood barely fit into it at the angle he had it.

Its light scarlet tint made my mouth go haywire. The taste of metal filled my mouth. I hated watching the blood as it was taken away. I had to admit it; it made me a bit skittish.

Once it filled about a fourth of the vial he pushed a cap over it. I finally grabbed back my own hand.

President Wright tried hiding a flash of sadness. I understood the feeling; it felt as though I were losing a part of me.

“Well, Riker, it looks as though our paths must divert for the moment. Remember what you’ve promised me,” he pestered.

“Goodbye, President Wright. Thanks, for the information,” I said.

That left with me staring up at the sky wondering what in the world I had gotten myself into. What promise had I made? What did he want from me?



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