The dead man's eyes were as emotionless as they were when he was alive.

Tears stream down my face rapidly leaving a trail on my cheek. I cling desperately to his pale, limp hand as if trying to bring his life back to him. His pale complexion and thin white lips make him look almost ghost-like.

It is a complete contrast from when he was alive. His hair, now dulled to a dark brown, used to be a beautiful caramel color with a darker red tint to it. His lively blue electric eyes now, like the rest of him, paled as if the color was drained from him when his life was.

If I close my eyes, I can still hear his melodic voice ringing in my ears. I never appreciated as much as I do now that I'll never hear it again.

I move a slim hand up to his face and cup it with my fingers. I longed for him to say something, to just be asleep; all I would have to do is wake him up and everything would go back to the way it was.

My hand slides down from his face. I brush my palm against my face to wipe away the tears. Strands of my blond hair falls in front of my eyes blocking my vision. It might be just as well; I don't want to see this man in front of me any longer, I don't want to see him motionless and so silent yet, I don't want to leave; I don't want to let go.

His dead eyes seemed to be staring up at me yet they seem so far away. I reach over and gently shut his eyes not wanting to see them anymore. Now he is truly sleeping, but this time, unlike any other time anybody else would go to bed, he would not wake up.

He is positioned on his back upon a stone table in the middle of a dark room. There is mostly complete silence except for the occasional sniffle from me as my crying gradually ceases.

"Scarlette," a soft yet husky voice says from behind me.

Startled, I whip around to see the one person I don't want to see; Angel Black, one of our Leader's son which naturally means he gets to do whatever he pleases and no one raises a finger.

He enjoys sauntering around the community looking for possible troublemakers to tattle on to his dad. He probably saw me walk in here and followed to chew me out.

"Angel," I say calmly. He raises an eyebrow at me and crosses arms over his chest.

"You're not supposed to be here. No one is supposed to visit any who have Gone." I gaze down at the body next to me dejectedly and then turn my attention back to Angel.

"I just-" I pause sighing deeply. My mind scrambles for something to say. I never thought of why I was here; I just was. I just felt like I needed to. This is like one of those rules you learn when you are a little kid. After you learn them, people expect you to do them automatically. This is exactly like that; I don't need a reason for it.

I think for a while at his question. I need to come up with something or I will be in trouble for sure.

"I just wanted to say goodbye," I manage to say weakly; my voice cracks at the end.

"That's not allowed," he snaps back almost instantaneously. Anger boils inside me as I rise from my sitting position and take a step towards him in an ominous way.

"What are you going to do about it?" I ask sharply as I purse my lips and put my hands on my hips, "Go running to your daddy?"

"How about you go running to yours?" he retorts. I take a step back to regain my balance and prevent myself from falling over. My mouth drops open and he gives me an arrogant smirk.

I finally break. I grit my teeth and begin to breath heavily. Tears start flowing again from my already puffy eyes as I stomp fiercely towards him.

"What did you say?" I yell angrily at him. I grab the folds of his shirt and push him violently against the wall. I growl and restrain myself from punching him in the face.

"I didn't hear you Angel," I say through my teeth, "Want to repeat that?" I say bitterly still seething. He doesn't react to me attacking him but instead giving me a look of suspicion.

"Are you okay?" he asks monotonically, "You seem-" he pauses as if searching for the correct word. "Different than the others," he says referring to almost every other person in the community; everyone else that doesn't have Emotions.

I step back a little loosing my grip a bit, but don't let go just yet. I look into his eyes and see them looking me up and down with a apprehensive glint in his eye.

"I don't know what has gotten into me. I apologize," I say matching his impassive tone. He narrows his eyes at me and then breaks away from my grip. He heads towards the door, his footsteps echoing though the room. I just stand there tensely and ponder the recent events.

"Scarlette," I apprehensively turn to face him. He is standing in the doorway, the bright light shining around him so that only his silhouette is visible to me.

"Yes?"

"Say goodbye. Then get out." He commands. Then he leaves swiftly without saying another word.

I decide it's best to follow his instructions so I turn the resting man again. I begin to make my way over to him with shaky hands. His face comes into view; I take it in while trying not to weep again. This may be the last time I see his kind features, the last time I can hold his hand though he's not going to hold it back.

I take his hand in mine once again and lean over to kiss his forehead.

"Goodbye dad," I whisper hoarsely, "I love you."

If only he had Emotions; then when he was alive, he would have said he loved me back. I never heard those words; I've said them though. Nobody understood them so naturally, I never heard them back.

I'll never hear them; not from him.

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Hey guys!

So how did you like the first chapter? Please give me feedback :) this is my first dystopian story I've written so it is probably bad.

The amazing banner is made by crystalwaterdrop :)

thanks for reading!

~'Ponine