I wrote this for the NaNoWriMo, and it actually didn't turn out half bad for a novella written in only a month. I promise everyone that it gets better after this, but here's just the beginning. Plus, I love reviews!

Seven Cards

a novel by dresdendevotchka

♠ ♦ ♣ ♥

If you're reading this, you're probably from the early millennium. You know, the 2000's. Maybe the 2010's, I don't know. But I know that you're from the past.

The reason you're reading this is because we have past capsules. I've been told that it was an old custom back then, in the turn of the millennium, on New Year's Eve, to put little keepsakes and notes and resolutions in a time capsule, and recover them in the future a year from then to help you remember the past year. Now don't ask how, because I wouldn't be able to explain, but we have capsules that we can do that for but transport them into the past instead. Scientists mostly use them for experiments, but so far, we haven't gotten a response from you guys, the past. But we're waiting.

So if you're reading this right now, send us a response. Please.

And if you really are reading this, then I might as well tell you what the future is like.

It's dark. That's about it. It's not all chrome and shiny metal, flying hovercrafts and food that pops up from thin air when you jab a button on the kitchen counter. It's not like the perception of the future that a lot of you have. It's just mostly a lot darker.

We do have some new, better gadgets, though. We have devices called techters that you wear around your wrist that look like watches but then also double as a cell phone and an mp3 player and a calculator, just by pressing a little button on the side. We also have machines that are both a computer and a television screen, called screenvisions, but that's probably expected. As you can tell, we mostly have gadgets that double as other gadgets.

But that's not the weird, unexpected part. The weird, unexpected parts are what you all knew would happen but don't want to think about.

For example, all the great rock stars from the sixties and seventies are dead. Paul McCartney's long dead; he died of a stroke when I was too young to even know who he was. Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel, Roger Waters and David Gilmour. They're all six feet under now.

The ironic thing is that Ringo Starr is the only one that's somehow still alive.

Which brings me to my next point: the one thing that you did predict and knew would happen for sure is that people still listen to the Beatles. Even long after their time is over, even after all but one of them who can't even pick up his drum sticks anymore are dead, people still listen to their music. And it'll always be that way, even for the future to come.

Also, we now have school in the evening instead of in the morning – but nobody really knows why or how that happened. It was probably petitioned by some random mom with a kid bitching about how he hated getting up so early. You know, something like that.

But what you people from the future probably didn't expect to happen even more is that kids have more power than you would have ever imagined.

The old Republican and Democrat assholes that used to take over the government were deemed unfit to run the country by the public, and younger and younger candidates have been showing up and even winning. The youngest president that we elected was only twenty-six, and he did a damn fine job with the little peace that we could establish between us and the countries that hated us. Iraq still pretty much detests us, but at least the war is long over. Now, I wasn't even born yet when Bush's presidential run was finally over and we elected someone new, but I know that whoever came next finally ended the war. I bet I was only a thought in my mother's mind, not even dividing egg-and-sperm cells, when all this was happening. Everything that I'm talking about, that you might have experienced or will experience in a short amount of time, was before my own time.

And, well, if I spoiled something for you that hasn't happened in the past yet, then I'm sorry. You can just pretend to predict what will happen, and tell everyone "I told you so" when it does happen. You're welcome.

Anyway, more about the future. There's nothing really that much to say otherwise. Christianity is still the number one religion in the world, women are still prostitutes when they don't have enough money, and food still gets moldy or stale when you leave it out for too long. Nothing that's been around since the dawn of time or ancient B.C. has changed for the better or worse. Some people consider that normal and fine, while others are outraged that we haven't advanced further.

But like I said, the one most important thing that you should know is the kind of power that younger people have now. That's the most important part of this story. You see, while twenty-something-year-olds are running for congress, teenagers are doing the best they can in the meantime. We drop out of school more often to get jobs or even get married and have kids, just like old times, hundreds of years before the millennium. And while some teenagers are being adults, others are being radical adults.

Some start riots in the streets, and others commit murders and get put in jail; not even juvee hall anymore. Because of the growing power of the youth, the age limit has been lowered for everything – drinking is now legal at eighteen while voting is legal at sixteen, and teens start driver's ed at fourteen. The age limit for statutory rape is now seventeen instead of eighteen, and while many people fought against this, the law was still passed. And with all these new age limits, new drugs have been developed by experimental teenagers. We still have pot like always, but the crystal meth rush of the millennium is over and now it's all about new drugs called eyelacers.

So, teenagers, if you're reading this… you have a lot to look forward to.

The reason I'm writing this is to warn you people from the past what's coming in the future. What I've been through is different than but the same as what you would think. I've been a part of futuristic events that may seem wildly unusual, but really, they're just as normal and mundane as what may have happened in the past. Sex, riots, drugs, gangs, everything – seems pretty millenniumite, right?

But what I've been on is a strange, strange journey, and I need to share it with someone who'll listen. I know that someone from the past would like to know about the future, and so I'm here to share it. You wouldn't think that so much would change in only twenty to thirty years, but it has.

So, to use a saying from your time, whoever you may be that's reading this – sit back, relax, and enjoy the show, because I've really got a lot to show you.

♠ ♠ ♠

An aluminum can hit my window one night, waking me from my dreamless sleep. Confused, I craned my neck behind the blinds and looked down. After looking down once, I gasped and drew back quickly, pressing the blinds flat against the window in fear.

It was a group of kids only a little older than me, mostly boys probably ranging in age from what I guessed to be seventeen to nineteen, and I couldn't believe what I saw them doing. Some were leering up at me in my window, cigarettes and joints hanging out of their mouths, while others threw more metal things at my window; the one thing that shocked me was seeing a boy and a girl copulating right in my yard, the boy grinning up at me as I took the quickest glance I could. All the boys were dressed in what seemed to be frilled white shirts and elaborate brocade jackets, while the few girls were in tattered tiered gowns. It was one of those past-based riots that I had only heard about and never actually seen before until now. Hell, it was Marie Antoinette and the British punk scene all rolled into one.

I had always secretly wanted to be in one of those riots. Just to feel myself loosening in the company of other young idiots like myself… I would give anything for that. Just once, that's all I ask of the angstries.

That's what all the older people called us teenagers: the new clan of angstries. I don't know how it originated, but I heard that it was a cross between "angry" and "angst", in plural dirty-teenager form. But the reason I wanted to be an angstry wasn't to ruin my life or impress anyone – I just wanted to give myself a name. You see, those good teens that get married and have jobs and shit like that, there's no term for them. But to be young and furious and carefree and psycho, that was what being an angstry was all about.

Everyone wants to be an angstry now, to have the most appealing classification; except for those no-name teens that actually do something with their life, they don't want anything to do with us.

And as of right now, I'm neither a no-name or an angstry – I'm only a fifteen-year-old girl. But maybe I don't have plenty of time to think about it until then. Maybe I should make a decision now.

So as I leaned against my wall, shocked at the act of the angstries, I secretly grinned to myself.

That could be me one day.

♦ ♦ ♦

My name is Candace, but I'm really Candy. Have a mom and dad, have one sister, but they don't really do much for me.

When I look in the mirror, I see something new every day.

Some days I'm sexy and some days I'm ugly. Some days I'm caked with makeup and some days I'm natural as the sea. But every single day I have dark brown hair in loose curls and layers, hazel eyes that can be green or brown or grey or anything, lips a little on the large side, and freckles dappling my nose and cheeks. Naturally short in height, naturally long lashes, naturally big breasts.

Despite all of this blessed naturalness, I don't have boyfriends often.

I'm a smartass and I can be a real bitch to people, but that doesn't mean that I can't be caring and loving, too. Sometimes. Mostly the smartass bitch side shows, though.

People don't dress much differently in the future. We mostly wear the same things, tee-shirts and jeans, though some very strange fads have come and passed. Strange like large metal hair clips that you put above your ear, framing your face in a fresh young astronaut way; strange like jeans that have rips in the knees only to have bright fabric underneath, which defeats the purpose of the rips. Not too strange, but just strange enough to earn the title of strange.

But you don't get to see what all the teenagers wear, usually, because a good amount of them don't even go to school anymore. Education has lost its important in a lot of angstries' lives; not mine, but then again, I'm not an angstry… yet.

But to be an angstry isn't that easy. You have to be in a gang and play a role in that gang, so that everyone depends on you for that one thing you're responsible for. You also have to be sure not to piss the gang leader off, or you'll be kicked out or beaten up or killed or something. And that's why I'm also a little bit afraid to become an angstry.

It's hard and brutal, but I'd be willing to do it.

"Candy," my mom would say during dinner, clutching the bowl of green beans in her hands, "I hope you never get into one of those angstry gangs. They're a terrible influence, you know."

"I know," I'd say, sucking on the metallic tines of my fork. "But that's why people like them. They're a terrible, interesting influence."

And then she would spoon some beans onto her plate, sighing when they hit the napkin that was perpetually in her lap. She'd pick them up one by one with her manicured fingers, placing them back onto her plate and wiping her index finger and thumb with the other side of that same napkin.

And it was the same routine every single night.

♣ ♣ ♣

One night after school, when I was waiting to get picked up after taking a late quiz in trigonometry, I decided to take a walk around the back of the school toward the other side.

And this was how close I had ever been to the angstries out of school.

As I rounded the brick-bend of the building, my book bag slung over my shoulder in a heavy disaster waiting to drop, I looked up and stopped short.

There was a gang of angstries, this time not Classical-dressed like I had seen last time but just grungy with dull ripped clothes, and they were harassing someone curled up on the ground. Turning back around but still watching from the corner of the school, I realized that it was a boy that was the one on the ground. He was on his knees, bending forward with his hands folded on the back of his neck, as the boys in the gang circled around him while the girls stood back and watched, grinning.

"What are we gonna do with him, boys?" a lean daunting angstry asked, looking around at all the boys as a smile played across his lips.

A large one looked back and said, "You're the boss, Hef. Whatever you want."

"Well, he failed to get us our eyelacers," Hef, the leader, said loudly. "So I think we should rough him up a bit. You know, teach him a lesson about proper drug dealing."

All the guys agreed with nods and grunts; I could see the hungry look in their eyes even from the corner of the building. I tried to but couldn't look away as they all took their turns pounding the boy into a pulp. Blood shone in the moonlight.

When the boy moaned quietly for them to stop as he laid on his stomach, the gang stepped away, gazing at him as if they were surveying splashes of red paint on a piece of artwork they just created. The leader gave him one last stomp on the back, pushing him back down into the pavement, as they began marching away, the girls cackling along. It took me a moment to realize that they were marching my way.

I automatically turned around and started walking as fast as I could, trying to make sure that they didn't see me see them. But when they all turned the corner that I was hiding behind, I recognized the leader's voice as the one that shouted "hey" at me and stopped me in my tracks.

I turned around slowly, petrified.

Hef grinned and said, "You were watching us. I saw you."

I swallowed but didn't say anything. "Umm…"

"It's all right." He leered at me in the dark, his face a silhouetted terror. "It seems like you want to be an angstry."

Again, I was silent.

"I'm sure you could be one. But you have to work at it."

And with that, they walked around me, parting in the middle and then joining up again to leave me standing there, sweat trickling down the side of my temple. I would have helped the boy they had beaten up, if only I wasn't so scared and exhilarated at the moment. So instead of going to help him, I ran in a different direction to be picked up.

I wouldn't say a word to anyone.

♥ ♥ ♥

Now, don't get a different perception of me all ready. I'm not who or what you might think.

From what happened with that situation, you'd think I was just a flighty teenage girl; you know, the ones who giggle at everything and squeal whenever they see a cute boy walk by. But I am completely the opposite of that.

You see, I actually care about my mind and I try to prevent its decay in this new age when so many minds like mine are becoming useless. I've been told that it was like that in the millennium sometimes, what with all the rap music and anorexia swarming around. I don't know if that's what's happening where you are in time right now, but if it is, then I feel sorry for you.

See, we don't really have any of that anymore. Rap has been practically abolished; come to think of it, not many people even make music nowadays. You wouldn't think that could happen, but it has. But not to say that there aren't any bands or singers around – there are always those few people that still have hope for the world. But nobody really listens to those few. Literally.

And anorexia and body image… Well, we just learned that it was huge in the millennium to be as skinny as you could be. It isn't really like that now, either. People aren't too concerned with how their bodies look, as far as being thin goes. And that's good, but the one thing I'm worried about for this future is the complete lack of energy and thoughts that I'm talking about.

We're not really doing anything anymore – nobody is making music, writing books, winning medals, running marathons, or being successful. And I feel like there's something very wrong in this way of life.

That's what the angstries are really here for. We stand up for the right to do something with our lives, instead of just waiting around to die like everyone else. People take us the completely wrong way; they think we're just in it for destruction. But what we're really in it for is rebirth.

So call us the leaders of the new Renaissance – all we're trying to do is make people realize that they could have it so much better, when all they're doing in the meantime is sitting on their fat asses and waiting until something exciting happens. You see, without us as the barrier, nothing exciting would happen. We're the providers. We're the leaders. We're the ones that hold all the cards in our humble little hands.

We're the angstries.

♠ ♠ ♠

But you see, at the time, I wasn't an angstry yet.

I was still shaken from my little run-in after school that night, the one I didn't tell anyone about. Well, anyone but you, of course. But what can you do? You're in the future. You have no control over what happens here.

Anyway, there was one person besides you that I did tell it to. And that was my sister in college, Ariel.

"Candy!" she said when she answered her techter.

I smiled. "Ariel!"

"What's up?"

"Nothing really, I miss you." I twisted the techter around my wrist, unsure of how to tell her my plan.

"Me too." There was a pause on the other line. "Did you call just to say hi?"

"Well…" I made sure my parents couldn't hear by closing my door. Now I began talking lower. "I wanted to say hi, but I also wanted to say something else."

"Well, say it, because I'm going to a party soon," Ariel said; I could hear the smile in her voice.

"All right, uhh…" I sighed. "Have you ever thought of becoming an angstry?"

She laughed, her snicker resounding in my ear from the receiver. "An angstry? Are you serious?"

"No, I'm not serious, but I'm just wondering. Have you ever thought about it?"

"Of course, everyone thinks about it," she said matter-of-factly, as if everybody should know simple things like this. "But only the crazy people really become them. I thought you were smart and had a future."

"I do," I countered, suddenly starting to get annoyed with her. "Like I said, I'm just wondering. Do you have any angstry friends?"

"No." And that was that.

"Okay, fine. You don't have to be so rude about it."

"Well, you don't have to be such a bitch!"

It was just like old times, when she was still at home. You never realize how much you miss someone until they actually leave. A hackneyed saying, but still true.

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

"How's college?"

"It's fine," she said, the warmth returning to her voice from the other end. "Like I said, I'm going to a party in literally two seconds. I'll call you later."

"I love you. 'Bye," we both said in unison before I heard a small click, and then the fuzzy silence of a dead techter line.

So maybe Ariel wasn't the best person to talk to about my deepest, darkest secrets and most baffling, confusing problems.

Actually, that was a lie. Ariel was always the best person to talk to, because she's as honest as a sister can be. I just hate that honesty, no matter how much I need it.

She was right about everything. Only the crazy people become the angstries, but maybe I was just as crazy as all of them. I didn't know why, but there was just a certain intrigue about the gangs that drew me in. Maybe it was the freedom; maybe it was my age; maybe it was my mind. I really don't know what exactly it was, but I wanted to be an angstry just as much as my sister didn't want me to.

It was rebellion in a new age of techters and lowered statutory rape age. It was anarchy but not disorder; it was the riot of a lifetime.

♦ ♦ ♦

Like I said, it gets a lot better after this. Reviews, please?