This chapter is dedicated to Poolparty34. She's an amazing writer, check out her story "Take That Mr. Player"! Thank you for reading and please comment and vote!!!! I want to know what people think!!!!
Thanks again and enjoy!!!!
Rain falls outside the barred window that blocks me from the field between us and the City. With one finger, I reach up and trace the drops. I sigh, no reason to imagine myself anywhere but here, where I've always been. I glance up at the clock: 7:30 am. The Ringer is going to ring soon. I jump down from the window ledge, my bare feet slapping down on the rough concrete. I look around and spot my friend Keara sleeping among all the other woman, most with bloated bellies. Then the shrill sound, telling us to get up and the schedule pops up on the screen on the left wall. I bite my lip, a habit of mine since I was little. I rush over to Keara among the waking women and girls. She always sleeps through the Ringer, a deep sleeper. I, on the other hand, could never sleep. I just can't stop thinking. I kneel down next to her lovely sleeping figure, and gently shake her awake.
"You have to get up, Keara," I whisper in her ear.
Her eyes flutter open, one a chocolate brown and the other a sharp green, both filled with warmth. Yawning she sits up on her sleeping mat and looks at me fearfully.
"Today is the day, isn't it?" Keara's voice quivers.
I nod at the younger girl. Unlike her I've already had the Scar, named for the permenant marks it leaves on us, it's just been unsuccessful the times I've done it. All the other fourteen year old girls are already in the Ward. She begins to shake uncontrollably, scared. We've all heard the stories, of the girls on whom the Scar never worked. The Disposed. To be honest, I'm terrified too, but I've always been one to keep my feelings inside. I have the scars to prove why.
"Listen to me," I tell her firmly, grasping her by the shoulders, "You have to be strong. Everything will be fine, you'll see. I promise you."
We both know that that's a promise I can never keep. I can't control what is decided. We both know that in our lives, nothing will ever be fine. We're girls, female. Things can only be better or worse than what else could happen. But saying it helps make it feel like there's at least some truth in the words, and it helps calm her down. We both know that if anyone's in danger of being Disposed, it's me, but neither of us say it. I let go of her shoulders and take Keara by the hand, leading her to the schedule where all the girls twelve and up are crowded like I've done for so many years alone. At least now I have Keara, though whether that's a good thing or not I cannot say. I look back out the window for a moment, back out at the pouring rain.
"Protect us, Mamma." I ask quietly, imagining her glowing smile, despite the way we've been treated.
She'd died giving me that smile six years ago, while she held me in her arms. Turning away from the window, I shove my way to the front, dragging my twelve year old friend behind me. She lost her mom too, except, unlike mine, her mom died giving birth to her. With no siblings to care for her, my mom had taken baby Keara in when I was two years old. When she'd died, I'd been left to care for Keara, and I'd resented the younger girl for it for a long time too. Now I know better. It doesn't take long for me to find our names on the schedule. I smile. They put us together, thankfully. After a more careful inspection, my smile melts away and I begin to chew at my lip again.
She doesn't respond. I had thought we would have at least some time to prepare ourselves mentally before they came to prepare us physically for the Scar, but we only have time to change out of our sleeping clothes and into our day outfit. I let go of her hand and let mine droop to my side.
"Well," She says at last, "we better change before they come."
I nod and we go our separate ways to our mats. Kneeling down, I rummage through the pocket on the wall until I find the white hoodie, skirt and tank-top that make our day outfit. Squishing myself in a corner in a weak attempt to hide my naked body from the other people in the room, I quickly change into my clothes and try to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach. I gather my sleeping clothes and shove them into the wall pocket for later, then try to still my trembling while hurriedly walking to meet Keara by the locked, steel door. I step beside her and she grasps my hand, I squeeze it and give her a comforting smile. Together, the two of us face the door as the lock turns and it squeaks open, shedding light into the always dark cell.