The Key

Keys are given to perfect children, locks are given to the imperfection. The second you are born you are either to carry a lock or a key and you are to find the one that completes you.
Hazel was given a lock, and after given up hope on finding her key... She finds that even perfect systems have flaws...
Like one having 2 keys.


1. Key Or Lock

The Key

Chapter One-- Lock or Key

Everyone is the same. We are born and given either a lock or a key.

Keys are given to the special children. The ones with perfect weights and when they scan to see mental illness it makes it certain you won't have depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, nor any suicidal thoughts. Also the ones that get their face scanned to see what they'll look like when they're 18. If they're beautiful and don't have mental illness you're basically for sure getting a key.

Fact: People with keys think they're better than everyone with a lock.

Fact: People with keys can refuse to try to see if it fits your lock if they don't like you.

And fact: I was born with a lock...


I'm a 17 year old lock holder.

My mom has a key and my father has a lock. My mom said that she didn't like my father when she first met him, but then he asked to see if her key fit. Back then if someone asked to see if you two were matched then you had to try...

The lock is a basically like a collar, and the key unlocking it is supposed to show you that the person with the right key, could free you from your troubles like they freed you from the collar, and until the day of your guy's last breaths.

My mom doesn't understand my mental issues... She's a key.

I have depression. I cut on a daily basis.

My father understands though. He's always telling me "Find your key it'll be better." but can one key really lift all my life struggles.

My friend recently found her key, she was surprised to see that it was a girl. It's considered a huge screw up in the "Locks System" but they find it as true love.

And the locks are different colors. Mine is red, to show I'd be a cutter (how could a evaluation when you were only an hour old be so dang spot on)

My mom informed me that because I'm 17 and still haven't found my key I may not even have one... Some people are born without their other match and are to be alone forever. This part of the system is what they do when they feel your family line has gotten too long and they want to end it.

You can't die, trust me I've tried.

Putting a knife in your gut, putting a bullet in your temple (this one won't work well because simply we do not have guns) , filling your stomach with pills, dangling yourself from the ceiling with a rope, pouring all your blood from your wrist, none of it will kill you. They second you feel pain a reacter goes off and the key with holders in your home (My mom, my two sisters, and my brother) rush to help with medical supply. All are trained to do medical things to help locks.

The one good thing about being a lock child... You get any career choice you want. Unlike keys.

I walk in school, all the beautiful pretty girls have their keys dangling as jewelry, some have it as an earring (which is the most popular one by far) and some have bracelets. But no one has it as a necklace due to us locks. They don't want to look like us locks in any way.

The keys are designed as their career will be. Some have paint brushes drawn to be an artist. Others have music notes for a musical artist. Also a few have numbers to show they'll get to do anything mathematical related. Even some have more keys on them, those are the ones who choose whether someone is bound to be a key or a lock.

A girl yanks on my collar,

"Wow, look at Hazel." I hear a girl whisper.

"Will she ever find her key?" Another mumbles.

"I bet you she's one of those lonely locks!" I girl giggles.

I close my eyes tight while I'm walking to hold in the tears that have formed.

I bump into a guy.

I look to at him.

He has a key around his wrist.

"So sorry." He said.

"It's okay..." I mumble.

He soon takes notice of my lock.

"Wow, you're a lock child?" He asks.

I nod.

"Um yeah." I say tucking my hair behind me ear.

I braced myself for hate.

"Wow, I've never seen a lock holder actually not look like crap." He says.

Didn't expect that one.

I look up.

"Can I see your key?" I ask.

He chuckles. I notice his key has a scratch.

When you find your lock... Your key scratches...

"Oh... I'm sorry.." I mumble.

"It's perfectly okay." He says.

He walks away.

I want to bash my head into a wall I'm such an idiot.

I then walk home.

Another horrible day at school.

And another day... Of not finding my key.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...