Outside the Lines

Chapter Two

“Forty-five.”  The instructor calls out the last name.

In unison, all of us begin to chant the complex’s mantra.

“We are the future of our country, Imperium. It is our duty to remain the same as our peers, and behave in our complex. It is our duty to become the same men and women of our ancestors. We must remain the same, and not act out. We deserve punishment for acting out. We must remain united. We are Imperium.”

Thirty shoots a quick glance at me and rolls his eyes. I try not to laugh as the instructor comes around inspecting our uniforms.  

“Fix your bun.” She snaps when inspecting me.

“Yes ma’am.” I say, reaching around to feel my soft, blonde hair. Apparently there’s a chunk of hair sticking out. Fixing the bun, I stand back at attention position and await further orders, already knowing what we will be doing for the day.

The instructor finishes and tells us our daily duties. Amusing myself, I make sure she isn’t looking, and mouth exactly what she will say to Thirty.

“Sit in your assigned seat when I am finished talking. We will be going more in depth today about the jobs you will be able to choose when you are of age. We will then be going to lunch.”

Of course we’ll be going more ‘In depth’. This is what our class does. Every. Single. Day.

I sit in my assigned seat, which is inconveniently not anywhere near Thirty.

“We have our main categories of career jobs which are Childcare, Healthcare, Business, Physical Duties, and Reject Duties. Within these categories are subcategories, which are the jobs you will be picked for. These jobs will, as you already know, be your jobs for the rest of your lives. Unless, of course you get picked to be in the Reject Duties.”  She purposely glances at Thirty.

“What, just because I like to talk means I’ll get placed into the Rejects?” Thirty asks, pretending to be innocent.

“Do not ask questions, young man.” Snaps the instructor.

Thirty and the rest of the class chuckles underneath their breath. I hear Twenty-two whispering to his friend about how Thirty is bound to get hauled to the warning room soon enough.

“QUIET!” The instructor booms.

“There will be no talking tolerated. If you continue to talk, there will be a larger chance of you being placed into Reject Duties.”

The classroom goes silent immediately. The Reject Duties, or as we like to call it, Rejects, are jobs that force you against your will to be tested on in government controlled experiments. There’s been speculation for as long as I can remember about people getting tortured, sentenced to hard labor, thrown into volcanos, and numerous other mortifying ways to die.

Zoning out into my own world again, I jump when Thirty shakes my arm, and points to the doorway where everyone is heading for lunch. We go to the very back of the single file line, and weave down a number of slate gray corridors.

Nodding to Thirty, as soon as the class starts to go around a corner we stay behind. Soon we are alone, with nobody to disturb us.

“Finally.” Thirty breathes out a heavy sigh of relief, pressing his back against the wall and sitting down.

“I agree. I can’t stand not talking for so long. How does everyone else do it?” I ask.

“Well it may be because they, unlike us, don’t believe in free thoughts or emotions.”

“I didn’t until I met you.” I proclaim mockingly back to him.

Thinking back to when I became friends with Thirty, I smile. About four years back, that would have made us eleven, I skipped lunch and was roaming around the corridors; hoping not to get caught. I was trying to find a way out of the complex and a way into the outside world. At the time I thought it was a good idea, now I realize how stupid it was. No eleven year old could pass for being twenty.

Anyways I was roaming around, not paying any attention to where I was going, and accidently bumped into Thirty. I thought it was going to be another instructor, and that I’d be sent to the warning room. It turns out it was a boy I had seen from roll calls numerous times, Thirty.

I talked to him that day until lunch was over, and we agreed to meet up on random days of the week so it wouldn’t arouse suspicion. From that day forward Thirty and I met up at certain agreed upon days of the week during lunch and just talked, about anything really.

“Hey. Earth to Nine.” He says, bringing me back to reality once again. I tend to zone out. A lot.

“Wha-sorry.” I say sighing.

“It’s alright. What were you thinking about? Me?” replies Thirty, smirking.

A bright red blush creeps across my face, and I nod my head, thinking fast.

“Yeah, you know, just thinking about how much of an idiot you are.”

He laughs and fakes being hurt before replying,

“Lunch is probabl-“ Suddenly Thirty is cut off by another voice. 

“Over by now.”

I hear the snappy voice of our instructor and whip my eyes over to the source.

Standing about six feet away from us with the rest of the class in a single file line, I wonder how we didn’t hear them before.

“Both of you. Stand up. Now.”

Both of us stand up and snap to attention position. I scan my eyes over the faces of our classmates, some look amused, others look frightened, but a majority of them just look plain bored.

“Nine. Get back in line right now.”

Wondering where this is heading and why Thirty isn’t coming with me, I nervously gulp and get in front of the line.

“Thirty. Follow me to the warning room.”

Astounded gasps fill the corridors and echo off the walls and I stand stock still, in shock.

This is not good.