"If you look for perfection, you'll never be content." -Leo Tolstoy, Ana Karenina

            Louxe is Life in Perfect Peace. Abigail used considerable effort to keep from rolling her eyes at the sign before her. Sure there may be peace in perfection in theory, but in reality striving for perfection was anything but peaceful. But Louxe didn't seem to operate in the reality she was aware of. It instead substituted its own version that altered the world around her in such a way that everything seemed twisted and impossible. There may be peace in perfection, she reasoned, but there was definitely no beauty.

            Beauty. She fought to hold back a strained laugh at that concept, as well. Even if beauty did exist in the world, when would she be able to truly admire it? Looking down at her clunky black shoes as she walked further into the city only seemed to confirm her dire thoughts. No place that was concerned with beauty would require its citizens to dress as hideously as they were required to here.

            As she and her parents made their way closer to the center of town, she quickly grew tired of the bland and predictable sight of large white buildings and perfectly maintained lawns. Not a single blade of grass seemed to be out of place. The sidewalk they walked on didn't even have a single crack in it, as if it too feared revealing a blemish in this city. Flaws were fatal in this environment.

            In a few short minutes, Abigail and her parents reached the town square and split ways. They walked to stand with the other adults, and she made her way to the segregated crowd of students, working her way to the front of the group of gathered young women. Standing in a mass like they were, she imagined they were all indistinguishable from one another. All wearing the same hideously modest dress that covered everything from her neck to nearly her ankles. The only thing that distinguished who was who was the color they each donned, though even they were in a limited number.

            As the mayor and his team made their way out of the building directly behind the town square and began walking towards them, she turned her attention to the event at hand. From her position at the front of the group, she could clearly see the shallow pool of water that sat before them all. Beside it was a podium, and as Tobias Morales, the mayor, reached it, Abigail had to hide the contempt on her face at his appearance. He was a short man with a stocky build and was dressed in khaki pants and a yellow button down shirt. To Abigail, his attire was far too cheerful for the matter at hand, but she knew better than to voice that opinion to anyone. Before she could spend any more time thinking her incredibly forbidden thoughts, Tobias cleared his throat to catch the crowd's attention.

            "Hello my beloved citizens," he cheerily began, "I stand before you today pleased to announce that the man behind the city-wide disturbance and interruption of the peace has been captured. Today before you, he will be sentenced and punished for his treasonous acts...."

            As he continued to talk about the man's crimes, Abigail risked a scan of the gathered crowd of men who stood opposite of her. She recognized many of the faces of those who lived near her, but as she scanned her eyes through the group, she noticed a boy who almost seemed out of place among docile young men. He had to be around eighteen or nineteen years old and had jet black hair that was styled back with more hair gel than she thought would be allowed. It seemed a few strands of his hair were still rebellious, though, a difficulty Abigail was far too familiar with. In a world where order and compliance were absolute, there was no room for unkempt and uncontrollable curls. They were forced to submit to the will of the governing powers just as she was.

            At a passing glance, the young man could have passed for a pliable young man like those who surrounded him, but as she looked closer, she could tell he was moving back and forth slightly as if he was nervous. Surely this wasn't his first public execution.

            Fearing getting caught not paying attention, Abigail tore her gaze away from the boy and back to the aging mayor before her, trying her best to listen to what he was saying.

            "... crimes of treason and vandalism, among others," Tobias continued. "With this man gone, the city will be a safe and peaceful place to live again."

            Tobias paused and turned his attention towards the courthouse, where a young man with his hands behind his back was being lead towards the group by two men who each had a grip on one of his arms. Much to Abigail's surprise, though, the boy was not trying to get away or attempting to shout out his innocence, as they usually did. Instead, he was calm and collected, as if he was at peace with his impending death. This only seemed to make this execution all the more unsettling to Abigail. What kind of young person could be so cavalier about their own demise?

            As they brought him forward, she looked closely at his features and was shocked to find that they were familiar to her. The jet-black hair and strong jawline was identical to that of the young man she noticed in the docile crowd opposite of her. At that thought, Abigail swiftly turned her attention to the group of young men once again, searching for him. When she spotted him this time, he had moved closer to the front of the crowd and his eyes were locked on the poor boy being executed. There was no question in Abigail's mind that the two were related.

            When the boy was standing directly in front of the small pool, the mayor turned his attention from the crowd and towards the young man and began to speak.

            "Daniel Wells, as Mayor of the town of Louxe, Keeper of the Peace, and Enforcer of the Laws, I sentence you to death. You have acted treasonously and have willfully and repeatedly broken the laws of this town and of this Union. May the purity of the water cleanse your tormented and marred soul. Do you have any last words you would like to say?"

            There was a long pause before Daniel finally began to speak. Locking eyes with Abigail's mystery man in the crowd, he spoke in a tone that seemed much too strong and that held too much conviction for his age and the situation he was in.

            "I do not regret anything I have stated, only that I was not able to spread the truth to more people. This game of lies you all play so well will only lead to your ultimate demise. I pity you, and hope that you will one day know freedom."

            Once he was finished speaking, the mayor gave a slight nod of his head to the two men holding him. The bald man to his right kicked the back of Daniel's legs, forcing him to his knees. After Daniel took one final look at the world around him, the second man, who had muscles that were barely contained under his shirt, pushed his face forward and held it under the water. At first Daniel seemed to accept the fate, but his body had other ideas. While his mind may have been okay with the punishment, the fundamental human drive to survive still pushed back. It was only a short minute or two before Abigail could see his struggle to pull his head from the deadly water. But after a tremendous amount of time and pain, there was no struggle left and his body laid completely still, a man frozen in time at his young age.

            Abigail searched for her dark haired mystery man in the opposite crowd one last time as she felt panic build in her chest. He was too young and his lifeless body seemed to be screaming at her. She knew this was wrong. This wasn't justice: it was murder. Her breathing was becoming difficult and she was beginning to feel dizzy. Before she could lose herself in it, however, her eyes locked on to the face she was searching for.

            Panic was in his eyes and she could tell he was feeling exactly what she was, only amplified by his blood connection to the young boy and his obvious shock from the whole event. The deep green of his eyes held hers and she could swear she saw them pleading with her. Pleading for help or comfort, neither of which she could provide. But before she could do anything, she watched as his head dropped from her line of sight, seemingly disappearing into the gathered crowd. She waited and waited, but his shining green eyes never came back up and as she began making her way back to her parents, she had almost convinced herself that she had imagined him.