City Limits

By Tessa Young

The last individual watches from a rooftop and dreams of a different world, a world not confined to four walls, not dictated by technology and uniformity.

She comes to him and offers a deal he can't refuse: write to set the city free.

Sal soon finds himself in an underground headquarters of a group of "individuals" working to dismantle the system and reestablish the power of the people.

Or so he thinks.

As tensions begin to rise, Sal quickly realizes that he has put his life on the line and begins to slip slowly into neurosis. In an effort to win the metaphoric game of chess, he blindly accepts to play. Sal tries to keep his sanity in check while working as hard as he can to find a way to end the madness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887638904

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

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City Limits

Tessa Young

Copyright © 2023 Tessa Young

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2023

ISBN 979-8-88763-889-8 (Paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88763-890-4 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

To the people who encourage and inspire me to move forward with my head high,

and the people who remind me of the importance of the present moment

Prologue

Three thirty in the morning was my time of day. The city was always still at this time—as if all life had stopped. The silence of the early morning hours—when everyone was asleep in bed—provided for clarity, which led to utter inspiration. I could breathe for once; I could sit in stillness with no distractions, without the fear of being reprimanded, although the fear of being watched was always there, omnipresent.

But nothing deterred me from sitting on the rooftop of my apartment building—not even the idea of death. Being able to watch the city as birds do and ponder the purpose of life, feeling as if I had the whole world to myself, was worth it. I'd sit until daybreak with my notebook in hand, writing all that came to mind—all my thoughts, dreams, fantasies—for it was a stale world we lived in, and to feel at least an ounce alive, it was necessary to be a dreamer. At least, in order for me to want to continue my existence, I needed to use the power of words to feel as if there was more to the world than what was inside the walls that kept us all in here.

What was the point of these walls? What was being hidden from the population that carried out their everyday lives trapped like zoo animals, and why? I've asked around before, and it seems that nobody even really cared. They would dodge the question or just laugh in my face and say, "Why are you so concerned? This life is great!" People were happy with living this way, for what reason, I was relieved to admit, I could never understand, for to me, the world of endless possibilities that was once written about in old literature was nowhere to be seen, as we were caged within these walls. There was no sense of wonderment, curiosity, imagination, or value. One could even begin to argue that perhaps that was the point. Keep everyone in bounds, keep them in check, and for God's sake don't let them be free. Don't let them think. Don't let them be. Would I ever learn the secrets of this manipulation? Would I ever see the true light of day?

It was a lost art to be anything other than ordinary. The individual had successfully been killed or forced into hiding behind masks that didn't fit quite right. Everywhere you looked were copied and pasted versions of the same person; there was no sense in trying to find differences.

Meeting people had become a waste of time; no one wanted to dive into the depths of existence, so I stood alone.

Walking the streets was a peculiar, surreal thing when you're an outsider, when you're free from the mental constraints that had been installed into the minds of what seemed like almost the entire population. I'd look around and see the big screens on the sides of the high-rise buildings flashing images of the famed, of the trends. Follow that screen down to the city streets below, and the people…oh, the people! It was as if the people were taken directly from these advertisements. Their only concerns: following the trends, following the herd.

I was lost in this world I was supposed to be a part of; I was on the outside looking in. Every last fiber of my entire being wanted nothing to do with what I saw around me, but I was at a total loss of how to remedy the problem and how to be myself in a world of inauthenticity. I felt alone. Completely and totally alone. Not once in my life had I ever met anybody who shared the same views as me. There wasn't an ounce of passion left. Humanity was as shallow as a pond in the dog days of summer.

Since I was a child, I always wanted to be a writer. I wanted to share my words with the people. I wanted to inspire others; I wanted to create worlds to escape into. But as my childhood ended and I grew to the age where one starts their career, books had almost entirely been forgotten. No one read anymore, no one cared for the arts; they had been manipulated to fit an agenda. Art, the ultimate media of truth and self-expression, was taken away; all that mattered were screens and technology, so my dreams were demolished alongside the libraries and the art museums that got torn down to build new high-rise buildings dedicated to technological advancement. But through seeing the destruction of art, I promised myself I'd never stop writing, for if I stopped, not only would I die, but the simplicity of stringing words together in a simple way to reach the hearts of people would die as well.

The dreamer side of me that I nurtured and kept alive through art believed that perhaps something could be done to break free from the walls that surrounded and caged me. Something, or someone, could tear down the walls and let the people free.

Every night I could, I would look up at the few dim stars that could be seen through the light pollution, and I would pray. I would pray for a change in the weather, for a remedy to this madness, to be let out of this cage! And then finally, one night, my prayers were answered. (Or so I thought. If only I hadn't been so naïve.)

Chapter 1

She was gracefully feline in appearance; she had a slender frame and eyes painted in Egyptian style. She trod lightly, but with a prowess that could only be compared to a lioness. Dressed tightly in all black, Her golden mane whipped in the drafty winds created by the hallways of the city. I looked at Her with a slight smile on my lips and a curious wonderment in my eyes. How I ever got to share a moment in time with a creature as spectacular as this was beyond me.

How long till sunrise? Her voice was smooth and wispy. She brought words to life just by speaking. She spoke wistfully in a singsong way, shadowed by undertones of an almost whisper. It was hard to hear in the winds, but I was able to tune into Her voice effortlessly and couldn't help but watch the way Her rosy lips formed each word.

About half an hour is my guess. It was as if I offered this information to Her on a silver platter. Her eyes lit like lanterns, and a slight smile bloomed on her face. Why? I asked, matching my smile with hers.

Follow me! She quickly turned away and giggled. Her laughter was that of a fairy, beckoning for a child to pursue them deep into the forest.

I was following someone I didn't know for reasons I could not understand except that She seemed different; She seemed interesting and full of life. We climbed off the roof using a series of fire escape ladders (that I wasn't aware of) and landed on the city streets. She quickly ran through the alleyways as if dancing through a series of booby traps.

In the same way that Adam was tempted by Eve, I found myself tempted by this mysterious girl. Following alongside Her gave me a rush that could only be comparable to a drug. I clenched and unclenched my fists; my heart was fluttering like the wings of a baby bird. As we got nearer, my stomach started to turn. The reality of where we were headed to was sinking in.

I snuck a glance at this girl—I didn't even know Her name—and She showed no fear. If anything, She had a completely relaxed and somewhat hardened look on her face, like She had done this a million times before. And She probably had. I had only known Her for a few minutes. She had found me on the roof of my apartment building, but just by seeing Her walk up to me, I knew She was an outlier when it came to the people of the city. She stuck out like a sore thumb. Like me.

We were hidden in the shadow of a dumpster. I stared up at the wall that kept us all in here and away from out there. I had never been this close before, and it almost didn't look real. In a way, it had the appearance of a piece of paper standing up on its side, as if the simplest breeze could knock it over. The walls also had a subtle glow to them and almost seemed to be humming. I wanted to reach out to touch it but feared what might happen.

She was scanning the expanse of the wall for the guards. I did a quick scan myself and saw that it looked as if we were alone.

No one in sight. Come on! She grabbed my hand, and the next thing I knew, we were running. Running right toward the wall! Don't stop, just keep moving! she whispered to me in a hurry. My heart was going double-time now, palms sweaty. I closed my eyes.

What I felt could only be comparable to what you would assume being born feels like. For a split second (or was it hours?) I was surrounded by warmth. I was in a sort of embrace. Through my closed eyes I could see a soft pink light. I was being washed down a river of becoming, soothed by the sound and motion of calm water, and in this sort of baptism, I found myself smiling. I was giggling. I could see clearly; it was easier to breathe. For once, living felt real.

I opened my eyes. I was being shaken awake. I startled and gasped as if I hadn't taken a breath in a lifetime. As if I was spitting out a lungful of water, I felt like I was drowning, and She had pulled me back into reality, out of the strange microcosm that I almost lost myself in.

I gathered my bearings, shivered at the thought of what had occurred, and pinched myself for good measure.

This wasn't a dream.

But it was.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing was real. I turned and looked at my companion. She was pulling out a cigarette. She noticed my eyes on Her and offered me one. I nodded my thanks.

She lit her cigarette with a match and turned to me, motioning for me to light mine on Hers. As I got closer to Her face, I couldn't help but notice Her deep blue eyes in the brightening light of this new day.

They were riddled with speckles of green, Her iris highlighted by a ring of ice blue. She met my gaze, and I had to quickly look away. The soul that lived behind those eyes was too powerful for me. I could feel in the brief second our eyes locked that She had some magic (be it good or evil, only time would tell) about Her that I would need to take time getting used to, supposing this new friendship would last.

I quickly lit my cigarette on Hers and took a deep draw. Exhaling, I blew the cloud of smoke straight up into the air. Finally gathering my bearings, I looked out over the horizon.

The sun was beginning to rise now. It was coming up over distant mountains, highlighting the low-lying clouds with streaks of vibrant pink. As the sun continued its migration, sun streaks burst forth from behind the clouds, and the surrounding sky molted into an orange hue reminiscent of tangerines. It was a breathtaking sight. I had never seen the sunrise in such a pure setting; the city was all I knew. And out here—out here was a completely different world. We were truly in the middle of nowhere. It was miles of nature ahead of us and to the sides of us.

Green rolling hills with grass swaying in the light wind, wildflowers speckled throughout, and trees! Whole forests, seas of dark emerald-green—it was a sight that I had only ever seen in paintings or on the television. It was a sight that had been ripped away from humanity within the city limits.

Suddenly, a wave of anger washed