The Audit

In this world, we breathe in sync. In this world, we don’t feel sad, or have bad days.

But in this world, I am drowning.

**

It’s 5:23 am, and my day is already starting off as well as it should. I woke up two minutes before my alarm went off, and got ready, practicing my fake smile in the mirror. In this world, we are measured during the Audit, which is conducted every night before you go to sleep. You can’t escape them.

My family is known for being the most successful during the Audit. I was raised to be happy, and I will continue being happy. Nobody knows what happens when you’re not happy.

I brewed my coffee as I usually do, smiling and humming a song while I did. A few shots of vanilla, and some Red Bull thrown in there so that I didn’t fall asleep at work.

Putting on my work badge, my picture effortless, I enter my name into the dashboard.

<<Hello, *PHOEBE*, thank you for entering your name into the dashboard! Have a happy day!>>

The automated voice rings in my ears as I drive down, turning on the radio. Only happy, love songs.

I glance at the sign that they place on our cars: Happiness is not a destination, it is a way of life.

We’ve all grown into this life, and we will have to stay in it.

But we are happy about it.

My phone dings with a notification, and I grab it, only to find out it’s from the New New York Times.

Breaking News: Polar Bear in Zoo Has Cubs!

Well, of course it did.

Suddenly, I turned into the parking lot that I had turned into thousands of times before. I rode up the elevator to the 9th floor, nicknamed ‘Cloud 9’.

I checked my phone again, wondering if I would get any notifications from a friend. Maybe a text or two. But hey, I like being alone and happy, right? So why am I checking my phone every single time I get the chance?

I didn’t let my smile falter, or else I would have to buy a new one, but God knows what happens when you buy a fake smile on the market.

“Hey, Phoebe! How’s the day been so far?” My boss, Mick, asks me, smiling the way that only Mick can smile. His family is second, I’m sure. All sunshine and rainbows for them.

“A happy one!” I said, smiling widely, sipping my coffee.

“As it always is!” he replied. We always spoke to each other in exclamation marks, which was completely normal for this world.

“You bet! Let’s keep at it!” I exclaimed, and he punched his fist in the air. That got a whoop from a couple of other colleagues, and laughs all around the floor.

My job is to count all the people taking the Audit at the time, and if any fail (happiness below 69%), to persecute them. I know, it’s harsh. But it’s the world we live in.

I sat down at my computer, a smile reflecting in the light as I entered my password, HappyGurl123.

I cracked my knuckles and wiggled my fingers around, ready to start another fun, happy day.

The first failure to pop up was my best friend.

My fingers froze, recognizing the name almost immediately.

“Isla? How…” I whispered, my face contorting into a frown. Suddenly, Mick came over to my cube.

“Phoebe, where is your smile?” he asked, eyes straining at me. I realized my mistake, immediately plastering on a smile.

“Right here where it always is, Mick!” I chirped.

“That’s what I thought, Phoebe! Let’s keep smiling!” he gushed, eye twitching ever so slightly.

“Yep!” I replied.

He walked away like a Ken doll, limbs moving in a way that seemed natural, but wasn’t.

I looked back at the computer screen, my eyes beginning to become drier, to the point where crying was the only option. I shut down my computer and then ran to the bathroom.

“Phoebe, where’s your smile?” Mick yelled after me. I could see his face twitching, his hands balling up like fists.

“Right where it always is!” I yelled back, my voice cracking. Suddenly, a big fat tear rolled down my cheek.

“No, no, no, no! No!” I cried, not knowing what I was becoming. I had never cried before. In this world, the babies are born giggling and squeaking.

I took my finger and placed it on the teardrop, which felt other-worldly.

I reached for a tissue, placing it on the drop. I stared at myself in the mirror, my face still stuck in a smile.

“Oh my god…” I murmured to myself, “I’m gonna have to buy a smile.”

I threw the tissue away and repeated affirmations in the mirror for a solid thirty seconds before going back out onto Cloud 9. Yeah, right.

I sat back down at my desk, smiling, but it was tighter this time. Strained happiness. Dropped you down by at least 10%. I winced as I glanced at Isla on the computer screen. Her name was printed in blue, her favorite color, and her picture was one she had taken at the beach this summer. I felt my throat tighten as I clicked on her name to file this in. She only had 68%. 68%, but there are no exceptions. She was a top-class CEO, but there are no exceptions. It doesn’t matter how much you are loved, or how much somebody will miss you. If you aren’t happy, you aren’t alive.

I pressed the button to send the NHET, No Happiness Execution Team. Sometimes, if you beg hard enough, you can join in on the torturing instead of being tortured, but only a select few can join. Maybe Isla has hope.

Mick came skipping - I kid you not, skipping - towards my cubicle, and told me with a smile that I was fired.

If you get fired in this world, you almost automatically fail the Audit, and so just hope for the worst at that point.

“Mick, what the hell?” I raged at him, my mouth still stuck in a tight smile.

“You were just… crying? Crying is something that nobody here does, Phoebe! Dare I say, crying automatically gets you into the cellar!” he said while laughing. He looked like he was masking something more, though. The others, watching with wide eyes and big grins, laughed along as well. "God, Phoebe, I expected better! Crying? Ha, what even is that?"

“I don’t know what it even is,” I exclaimed, “it just happened to me! Mick, if your best friend failed the Audit, wouldn’t you feel inclined to feel?”

“I don’t have a ‘best friend’, Phoebe,” he blatantly stated, his smile still strained and tight.

“That’s, like, insanely depressing.”

“That’s not what I meant-” he said, and then I cut him off.

“What did you mean? In order to be happy, you have to have a best friend,”

“Why, Phoebe, having friends drags productivity levels down by 20%! Now, let’s get back to smiling, huh?” he punched his fist in the air, and all the other workers laughed and cheered along.

I could feel my chest tightening, along with my throat. Is this what holding back tears feels like?

I took my phone, my purse, my dignity, and went down the stairs in spite of it all. Cloud 9 my ass.

Stepping into my car, my phone rang. I quickly got into the car and then picked it up. It was an unknown number.

“Hello?” I called into the void of my car, sliding the green button to answer the call.

“Phoebe, it’s Isla-” the voice said, hushed and scared.

“Isla! Are you okay, I saw what happened, Isla, talk to me-” I was cut off by the immediate static of the phone. Isla only got a few words out.

“Goodbye - Phoebe - my - moon - I - love - you,” she spoke in between the wretched static. I realized that I wasn’t smiling, and immediately fixed it. If any NHET workers are patrolling the streets, you can’t let them see you not being happy, smiling, or laughing.

I dug my key into the ignition, pressing down on the gas. I sped to my house, and then pulled out my phone as I made my way into my bedroom.

I held back my emotions as I opened the Fake Smiles Black Market (FSBM). The smiles stared up at me, the mask glitching on and off my face, testing itself out on my features. I took a deep breath and clicked purchase on one, moving on to Isla.

I typed ‘Isla Perkins’ into the search bar, and nothing but her Insta and her HV (Happiness Value) came up. I clicked on her Insta account, and those tears started sprouting in my eyes again.

“Isla… what happened?” I muttered to myself.

Suddenly, a bell rang in my ears, letting me know it was time for the Audit. I held my breath as it scanned me as I was used to this entire time. Numbers came flowing into my brain, and somehow, I got a hold of my family’s Audits from the day. My brother was 97%. My father was 82%. My sister was 79%, and my mother was 88%. We had done exceptionally well today. If I broke this, my life would be a living hell.

It went unspoken, what would happen to any of us if our percentages dipped, but we all had a vague idea.

NHET pounding on your door.

Sirens, screams.

The lowest my score has ever been was last month. 73%. My father yelled at me for three hours straight, all with a smile on his face. Yelling, it was, but not in the way you’d expect.

“Phoebe, child, be happier!” he had shouted in a gleeful tone. His Audit that day had been 93%, 20 whole points higher than mine. It was not acceptable, and he told me that if it happened again, I wouldn’t cease to tell the tale.

My heart started beating, and I checked my watch as my eyes started becoming heavier and heavier. My face struggled to keep even the tight-lipped smile I usually wore. I was so tired.

Thoughts and information continued to flood through my brain, seeping through every nook and cranny.

The Audit's lasers bared through my eyes, sending a shiver down my spine. I had done this before, but tonight, the process felt heightened. More real.

Then, the Audit was completed.

I stared at my percentage in disbelief. The aftershock of the Audit rummaged through my body, sending sparks through my arms and legs.

65% Happiness Value.

In a mere matter of seconds, NHET came knocking. I ignored it at first. It was a tap that I could live with.

Then, it got louder. More fierce. I placed in headphones to drown it out, but the banging only grew louder and louder.

“We’re coming in. Open the door now,” one of the officers shouted. The image of someone smiling while doing this echoed throughout all of my body. I became hyper aware of my surroundings, silently saying goodbye to all the house plants I could never water enough, and to all of the imperfectness of my home.

I walked sullenly towards the door, opening it, and gradually accepting my fate.

The officer took a step back, prowling her eyes across my body.

“Phoebe Knight? Are you serious?” she mumbled to her partner. The other officer, whose vest said MARTIN, looked at me as if I was a creature from another planet. But no, I was just another life they were ruining for fun.

They both had smiles. Slight ones, but still. I was not smiling anymore. I didn’t see the point.

“Well, uh, it’s such a shame,” Martin muttered, still looking at me with astonishment. I nodded solemnly and waited for my punishment.

I saw my father in the corner of my eye, waving happily as they grabbed me by the hands and took me away. I could just see the looks on their faces. My brother was boasting his 97%, and my mother was playing her signature tight-lipped smile. My sister was standing there, motionless. She was numb. I was, too.

I said nothing to my father. He didn't care. My sister was the one I kept an eye on. She had a stoic face, like she had seen things and never wanted to go back. She smiled at me, yet I couldn't return the favor.

They took me to the cellar where they keep the ones who didn’t dip quite enough to be killed, but still went below 69%. “Be grateful you didn’t go below fifty,” a man wearing a blue cap whispered to me in a raspy voice.

I shuddered in the cold and dark of the cellar. The NHET had bright smiles on their faces as they scanned all of us.

The cellar smelled like dying rats, and every day, packages came. The fake smiles, and the laughs. You could almost hear them echoing through the corridors, mocking all of us who couldn't laugh or smile.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a girl. Something in me recognized her too well for strangers.

“P… Phoebe?” she called out.

“Isla?”

I stared back at her, eyes glowing in the faintly lighted area.

She walked slowly up to me, eyes clouded and grey.

“Don’t let them take you from me ever again,” she whispered into my ear as we embraced.

“I won’t, Isla.”