Warning: There are mentions of drug use, and drug abuse in this short story. It is not intended to be portrayed as a positive action in this story, rather a way of controlling by an ultra-futuristic 1984-esque society. Please stay safe people and don't do drugs. Please reach out to a trusted adult if you or someone else you know has any issues with substance abuse or dial a helpline that pertains to your country. 

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The clock struck nine, triggering a wave of soft chimes in every apartment. Artificial sunlight bounced off the edges of gleaming metal skyscrapers and streamed into the squeaking clean windows. Suddenly, dull, cold rooms were bathed in warmth.

I set down my cup of sweet, iridescent water onto the smooth metal benchtop.

"403, what's the weather forecast today?"

The walls of the room suddenly pulsed with blue light. A wave of delight tickled in my chest.

"It is currently 25 degrees Celsius. The forecasted weather is sunny. The chance of an electromagnetic storm is 0.2%. UV index-"

I held out my hand. "Can you give me any updates on the logs?"

There was silence. A muted ping reverberated through the room. "One new participant. Mariam Knell, age 14."

I nodded. "I see. Always the most volatile, these teenagers." I paused, tapping my perfectly manicured nail on the side of the white porcelain cup. "Anything noteworthy on the records?"

The room responded, pulsing in blue once more. A smile bloomed on my face. Bless the mood lifter frequency. It always makes the start of my day that much happier.

"Her public reports have noted that she has been moody. She also tends to throw fits and act unreasonable, disrupting the mandatory happy atmosphere of the class. As a result, her behaviour has been rated as a D."

I picked up the cup and sipped, swishing the saccharine sweet water in my mouth before swallowing. "She's redeemable then. I can rescue her, teach her to be happy for the privileges we have."

I put the cup into the small sink, listening to the soft hiss of water. A mechanical arm grabbed the handle and placed it on the drying rack to the side. "Do you want to lock the doors?"

My smile quivered slightly, out of delight, of course. "No. I am a happy citizen of Hillville, just like everybody else. So why should I fear my neighbours?"

A soft ting emanated from my silver cuff. My happy quota was fulfilled. My plain, white uniform glowed blue for a second, erasing any shadows of doubt. The smile was rejuvenated.

I walked towards the window and pushed, watching the myriad of zipping flying cars. I held out my hand, touching the city membrane. Hexagonal blue lines rippled from my fingers. Then, a shining, pointed vehicle dropped from the sky before hovering in front of my window.

"Destination?" It beeped.

I smiled. "The Happy Land Facility."

The vehicle hummed and extended a thin, metallic ramp. Without hesitation, I emerged from my window and stepped onto the platform. The dizzying height from the 135th floor only filled me with joy as I passed through the membrane. The city was the safest place to be, the happiest place to be.

Brushing my hair behind my ears, I stepped into the vehicle. I closed my eyes as the soft seat moulded to my form. The car hummed, and the window snapped shut. Then it zipped forward at mind-mashing speeds.

I kept my eyes closed and listened to the rushing of the wind. It was the only time I allowed my smile to drop.

...

I did not need to see to notice when I exited the city membrane. With only my uniform to rejuvenate my smile, swirling memories come unbidden. Wispy shadows of thought crept in, comparing the cold sensation of wind to a snowy winter's day.

The day my daughter was born.

The day I was granted the greatest joy of donating my DNA to the reproduction centre.

The day I watched as the embryo grew.

The day I sent her off in a nursery vehicle to the city of children.

Even though a child is a temporary joy, a family inevitably creates emotional instability. Emotional instability meant unhappiness and less productivity. Emotional instability drove us to near extinction; at least, that was what we were taught.

For the sake of ourselves and the future, we must remain grateful; we must remain happy. My daughter would be fine. She would receive the greatest education the city could offer and be treated fairly by the impartial automated caretakers.

Another shadowy, wispy thought crept in. Broken shards of a scene and a discipline rod wrapped in electricity.

The uniformed warmed up, and the thoughts were swept away in a tide of contentment. My shoulders relaxed. I am happy. My job is fulfilling. I get to guide emotionally volatile teenagers out of their spiral of instability and set them on a path to successful adulthood.

The wind stopped, and my body lurched forwards for a second. I opened my eyes.

The scenery was peaceful. Rolling green hills set amid a cloudless blue sky. The only purple smudges of an electromagnetic storm purred in the distance, too far to affect any functioning civilization. In front of my face was a snaking, sparkling white pavement that led to a blocky metallic. An inviting blue sign lit up as people in white streamed in and out of open doors. A steady line of hunched-back people dressed in blue shuffled in.

The teenagers.

I got off the vehicle and strolled toward the building. My smile was wide and exaggerated, but it was all in good faith. One should lead by example, after all.

Reaching the building, I was greeted with lasered gazes of discontentment. I waved. Especially in these circumstances, I should ensure that my actions reflect my principles and obligations. Happiness and contentment.

I tidied my hair and entered the building. I watched as the last of the teenagers settled on the various soft seats and beanbags in multiple rooms. Some seminars have already started, with a Happy Worker waving around an unlabelled water bottle.

Turning to the side, I entered a mostly empty, brightly lit room. The usual white walls with a table and sink at the right side greeted me. Five faces turned to the side, awaiting my presence.

I grinned.

"Hello, everybody. Most of you know me already, but we have a new face here, so I'll introduce myself. My name is Mara, and I am your Happy Worker." My eyes landed on a small, scraggly-haired girl.

"Would you like to introduce yourself?"

The girl scowled. "Mariam," she spat out.

I nodded. "Okay, as you all know, I am here to talk about how privileged-"

"No, you're not."

My smile faltered. I glanced at Mariam, who looked away.

"I am here to talk about how privileged you are. Our city has everything we need. Any food and comfort we need are provided. Healthcare is free, and you all have been educated by the best of the best. You are only asked to do one thing. Appreciate it."

Scornful laughter filled the room.

I directed my smiling face at the messy, raven-haired girl. "It may sound like a dream, but that is just a testament to how lucky we are. All we are asked for in return is to be happy."

The laughter stopped. The girl looked at me with serious eyes. "Do you really believe that? Is that why you tried to drug us when we arrived in this god-forsaken place?"

Murmurs filled the room. My eyes scanned the doubtful faces of the other participants. With that one word, weeks of progress were lost. I closed my eyes and sighed. D rated behaviour was accurate indeed.

"My dear," I heard myself say, "you are wrong. It isn't a drug. It is merely something to lift your mood. Happy Water is also a blessing. One that you don't understand yet but you will."

There was silence.

I opened my eyes and smiled at Mariam's smirking face.

"I didn't think a Happy Worker could drop their smile."

I shook my head. "No, I am merely reacting. I understand that you are in the process of forming your worldview. You are questioning everything, and that can make you scared. That is why-"

"No, you are scared. You're too afraid of dropping that smile of yours. You are afraid of the truth. I saw the truth."

I paused and fixed my smile into place. I walked towards the side and picked up five plastic cups. I unscrewed the water bottle and poured it, watching the iridescent water filling stream into the cup.

I moved on to the next cup. "What did you see?"

There was a sullen silence.

"I saw my friend dragged off by bots and pushed outside the fence. I saw her getting dismembered piece by piece by metallic snakes. I heard her scream."

A memory shard presented itself in a flash. Metallic snakes curling around the nursery vehicle. My hands shook, and the walls flashed blue.

The shard was gone.

I moved on to the last cup before screwing the bottle shut.

"That must have been a bad nightmare," I said.

"It wasn't a nightmare."

I turned around, making sure my smile was bright and wide. Then, walking to each teenager, I handed them the cup. I stopped, watching as Mariam stared at me and yanked the cup off my hands. Then, she threw it to the wall behind her, causing a splash.

"I would rather suffer than forget about what happened."

I shook my head and walked to the front. "Mariam is new, so show her how it is done. Recite after me."

I took a deep breath. "I am happy. I am content. I am lucky to be here."

"I am happy. I am content. I am lucky to be here."

Unlike usual, the pledge fell short. There was no rewarding feeling as I watched the four drink their Happy Juice. It was only just that usual happiness. Nothing more.

I clapped my hands and collected the cups. I blinked at the stained blue carpet. Happy Juice never dries well. Then, throwing the cups into the sink at the back, I turned around.

"Well done, everyone. See you next time."

At that, the teenagers stood up and walked towards the door. I stared at the rebellious Mariam. Her frown deepened, and she looked up.

"What?"

My hands shook, but my smile was constant. My uniform glowed a brilliant blue. "You must be happy, Mariam," I said softly. "You must be happy to be a productive adult."

Mariam shook her head. "I don't want any of that."

My mouth opened. "You did not dream of a productive adult. I don't know how you dreamt of a recycling centre, but you must forget. You must be happy."

Mariam whipped her gaze back and glared. "What?"

I looked away, awaiting my next session.

...

The trip back to the apartment was uneventful. Everything went as usual save for the darkening smudge in the sky. I walked back inside and slid the window shut. My body collapsed onto the chair beside it. At that, a metallic arm brought me a cup and poured Happy Water from a white jug.

I patted the cold arm and grasped at the handle.

That smudge in the sky suddenly condensed into thick, bluish black clouds. Streaks of neon purple blinked in and out of existence. Perhaps that electromagnetic storm will hit the city after all.

My gaze hit the cup's edge, slightly metallic from the staining of the Happy Juice. As adults, we had a choice. We were in the city most of the time, so we were always happy. Thus, we had a choice between water and Happy Juice.

Those who were teens and sent to the Happy Centre usually chose, as productive adults, Happy Juice over water. Unfortunately, there was more than a 90% chance that those who somehow dreamt of unproductive adults became unproductive themselves.

That 10% who made their way to the road of prosperity were always advised to keep their monitors on.

The air trembled, and lights flashed.

It was for the sake of their happiness.

I glanced at the clouds. Electromagnetic storms were always troublesome. It messed with the monitors and scrambled the mood lifter frequency.

Purple streaks touched the membrane, shattering it in brilliant flashes of violet. The lights went out. The hum of happiness ceased. I desperately sipped the happy juice, warding away any shadowy thoughts or memory shards.

However, the backup system always turns on a few seconds later. Everyone is always happy. The lights turned on, and the city pulsed with blue light. My shoulders relaxed, and I sipped the juice again, feeling the sweetness on my tongue. The cuff was silent.

I was a happy and productive adult.