Mark was ugly.

He knew that and so did the people around him. He’d been called other worse things as well, but once it was boiled down, there was nothing else to be said. That was the plain truth in its simplest, cruelest, and most unadulterated form. Ugly was not a matter of opinion in his world; it was a fact. The number on his arm was proof of that.

In the world Mark lived in, everyone had a Numera. A Numera was a number every baby was born with on their left wrist. It represented just how 'beautiful' the individual was. A person's Numera ranged from one to a hundred; the higher the number you had, the more beautiful you were.

Because of how the system worked, the birth of a child was often very anticipated. It was the time when a parent would finally know whether their child was beautiful, or worthy, to society, and that was more important than anything in their reality. Mark was no exception of course. An ultrasound had predicted that Mark was a twin, one half of a set of two boys. His parents reacted well to the news because both of them were considered exceptionally beautiful, having Numeras of 92 and 91 respectively. Everyone thought that the two twin boys would be just as good-looking too since it was only logical. If the boys were anything like their parents, their family would be even more respected and revered by the people around them. That was how powerful and influential the Numera was.

Shrieks of pain that were nearly inhumane broke out in the hospital room as Mark’s mother gave birth. It was the day. Many hours of agonizing pain had yielded two, healthy and hopefully beautiful boys for her. Everyone was joyous, completely elated, but no one could deny the underlying feeling of nervous butterflies that flittered about in their stomach. As the doctors took the two boys away to be looked at, the whole family waited anxiously in the waiting room with only their thoughts to comfort their worrying minds. Minutes felt like years and years felt like an eternity.

The door opened, and the doctor gave the news. Happiness suddenly erupted in the room- he had gotten a Numera of 94, higher than both of his parents. To his mother and father, there was no greater pride or joy than getting such a high number. The doctors then announced that he and his brother were fraternal twins. However, Mark’s parents were at ease. If one child had gotten a 94, then the other should get just as high as a Numera as well, right?

Wrong.

The mood suddenly dropped, dead silence blanketing the entire room that previously was bursting with laughter and happiness. Ice suddenly seemed to coat the walls.

“Excuse me, I must’ve heard that wrong,” my father asked seriously to the doctor who was holding his newborn babe in his gentle hands. The room held its breath, a silence so loud, it was deafening. My father’s heart dropped when he saw the doctor shake his head, empathy on his face.

“It is my regret to tell you that your son’s Numera is 49.” Mark’s mother had begun to wail, tears spilling endlessly down her pale cheeks. She couldn’t believe that this was what she was given after nine months enduring the pain of carrying babies in her stomach and fourteen hours of an excruciating birth. Friends and family gave their condolences and left hastily, not wanting to be associated with someone with such a low number. Mark, who was wrapped in a soft blanket, slept soundly, unaware of the disgusted look that his father was giving him.

This was the society in which Mark lived in. It was one based off of looks alone. It didn't matter how smart, funny, or genuine you were. As long as you were beautiful and had a high enough Numera, you were accepted and deemed a worthy citizen. Those unfortunate with disabilities and deformations are deemed worthless to society so they were discarded, put away to never to be seen again. Popularity, social standings, and how people thought of you were all dictated by the black digits on your arm. Nothing mattered besides your Numera because it defined your entire worth. Mark had learned that the hard way.

***

Twelve years ago

***

It was a cold, cold day but nothing could seem to make the little boy any less excited, including the harsh, snowy weather. The young child, only five years old, giggled as he made his way down the stairs in awkward, wobbly steps. He was groggy and still very sleepy, as he had not gotten any sleep last night because of his pure anticipation, but he was determined to see the presents under the green, spiky tree that his family would put up every year.

It was tall and majestic, far taller than the boy could imagine. On the first day they had gotten the tree, all he could do was stare at it in amazement, wondering if he perhaps could one day grow to that immense height. He would soon learn later that his height wasn’t one of his strong points. Green leaves which smelled pleasantly of pine outreached far into the leaving room so if one wasn’t careful enough, they could get a scratch. He had learned that the hard way, unfortunately. However, that didn’t stop the little boy anyways for he had bolted straight to the tree, past the sweet-smelling candles and festive red ribbons that adorned the house and slid right beside the presents which were all covered in an assortment of beautiful wrapping paper. A huge smile was plastered on the boy’s face, his eyes twinkling and mouth nearly drooling. His fingers itched so painfully to open all the presents, whether or not they were his, but he knew that he shouldn’t. Otherwise, his papa would get very mad at him. He kept his fingers to himself and sighed.

Minutes passed by which soon turned to nearly two hours. His older brother joined him in the wait about an hour after he had first sat down. His older brother picked at the presents and shook them, at times accidentally ripping the paper. The little boy, however, was patient and waited. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, his parents finally joined the two children downstairs who were nearly bursting in excitement. The boy quickly stood up straight and stared at his papa nervously.

His papa was stern with him and if he wasn’t careful, he’d get into big trouble. He noticed that with his older brother, his papa was very nice