What do you think of this prologue to my sci-fi/fantasy book?

TroyYeah

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Prologue

It was about 14 years ago, the day everything started to go wrong. It was supposed to be perfect, but perfection isn’t everything, at least according to me. My parents think otherwise, though. But enough of that.
It would’ve been in July. So let’s imagine that the suns shining down on the roofs of all the hover cars, the Lesser children are out on the playground, the Uppers at the arcade. All in all its just a perfect day. Especially for my parents. It was time for my Mapping.
So now let’s say my parents are in Doctor Sulfur’s office. (Keep in mind that this is just how I imagine things are happening. I wasn’t even born yet.) My mom, Surina, has her hand on her stomach, where I am inside developing. She’s laying out on a bed, My dad, Onyx, keeps glancing at his watch, he always has a meeting to go to.
“Ok, are we all ready then?” The doctor asks. He’s sitting in front of his computer, typing the keys rapidly. The information he types in goes through wires and into my mom, who has electrodes hooked up to her.
“Yes, yes. Now can we hurry this up, I have a meeting to go to,” dad says, tapping his watch. You think he would care a bit more about the Mapping of his child. After all, it is the most important part of anyone’s life.
“Yes, sir,” Sulfur says. “Do you want to know the sex of the baby?”
“Yes, of course!” my dad says. He’d already had six sons: the twins, Jaron and Chanceton, Kyper, Zayden, Blythe, and Bender. I know he was hoping for another boy. Everyone wants a son nowadays. Boys are seen as better here; stronger, bigger, more powerful. A man with a lot of sons is seen as better than a man with a lot of daughters.
“It’s a boy,” Dr. Sulfur says. “Wow, that’s seven boys in a row, Onyx. What’s your secret?”
“No secret here!” says dad, obviously jubilated. He’s happy to have another son. That’s one problem with the Mapping, you can’t decide the sex of the baby. Though in time I’m sure that will all be fixed.
“I assume you want the normal blond hair, then?” Dr. Sulfur asks. Blond hair, that’s what everyone has nowadays. It’s customary to give your child blond hair, but sometimes people decide not to.
“Yes of-” my dad starts to say, but gets cut off by my mom.
“No, no. I want him to have brown hair. Dark, chestnut brown,” my mom says. My dad gives her a look that tells her to be quiet right this instance. My mom looks down toward the metal floor below, like a dog who chewed up his owners shoes and feels guilty afterwords.
 
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