The Numbered

Chapter Twelve

11 years ago

Lynne

Hannah was eating her breakfast as Lynne ironed their daughter's new school uniform.

"No second-hand school clothes for our little girl," Dan said proudly as he walked into the kitchen to eat breakfast. He ruffled Hannah's hair. Lynne and Hannah hadn't seen much of Dan over the last couple of weeks and she'd had to explain to Hannah, that he'd been busy doing overtime to pay for her new school uniform and supplies.

"You're not having anything?" Dan asked her, as she now set about polishing a small pair of black shoes.

"No, I can't stomach it," she replied. Lynne was sure she was more nervous than Hannah was. Having turned six the previous week, today was Hannah's first day at school. The education system for the Flawed ran from aged six to fourteen. From six and twelve, the students learned how to read and write and gained basic numeracy skills. Then between the ages of thirteen and fourteen, the students were given vocational training to prepare them for the world of work. Which was a joke really considering the level of unemployment in the Flawed sectors.

Educating the Flawed was an ongoing hot potato for the Top-5. On one side there were those who thought that educating the less fortunate and teaching them to read and do basic maths would benefit the more fortunate by providing them with better services and goods. The other side, the more popular, vocal side of the argument saw the education of the Flawed as a waste of money and resources. As a result of this fundamental disagreement, very little funding was available to the schools, teaching staff were poorly trained and the teaching facilities were inadequate. The curriculum was largely craft-based and all students were taught how to work with a range of material and carry out basic home and motor vehicle repairs. Lessons in cookery, repairing clothes and basic domestic care were also taught. Any trinkets and jewellery made were sold in the posh stores in the Top-5 sector for ridiculously large sums of money, incidentally none of which ever made its way back to the hard-working Flawed students.

"Hannah, come on sweetie, eat up," Lynne encouraged.

"Mummy, have you seen Mr Bear? I can't find him and he wants to go to school with me today," her daughter asked.

"No honey I haven't, but he can't be far. Finish your breakfast and we will have a look for him."

Lynne placed the shoes on the doormat and picked up the hairbrush off the table. "Which colour ribbon would you like today?" she asked her daughter.

"The yellow one please, Mummy."

Lynne began to brush Hannah's hair.

"Mummy, what if I get lost and nobody likes me," Hannah asked, her voice small and full of concern.

"Hannah, your teacher is going to show you where you need to go and the children will love you, I'm sure."

"But that lady in the shops the other day didn't like me did she. She kept staring at me mummy and she tried to touch my hair. She was scary," Hannah reminded her Mother.

"What, you never told me about that," Dan said.

"It was nothing." Lynne dismissed the topic with a wave of her hand. But deep down, she still felt very uncomfortable about the incident and it wasn't the first time it had happened either. Wherever they went, Hannah seemed to attract attention, especially her hair. It seemed to incite jealously in some mothers and many a time, she'd heard them whisper snide comments behind her back. Lynne tied a bow in the yellow ribbon and hoped she wouldn't have to deal with any of that nonsense today.

"Come on Hannah, put your coat and shoes on, we had better be leaving. Give your Papa a big hug."

"Bye, bye, Papa Bum-Bum," Hannah said, with a giggle.