Unspoken

Chapter 2

His eyes fall on my uncovered mouth; a small smile finds his own. My lips must look like my mothers. I know it's what he's been hoping for. I'm almost a mirror image of my father, from my short, dark hair to my lengthy build. Only my ears and nose match what features she had; now my lips must as well. We can make a more detailed picture of her in our failing memories.

I nod. I cross back to my bed, where I sit on the edge and tap my bare feet on the smooth, pure white floor.

"Speak?"

His face drops as he looks into my hazel eyes that perfectly match his. He shakes his head as he realizes what I'm thinking. I can see the anger trying to race onto his face, equivalent to what it was when he discovered my secret hand gestures. The Transmitters keep him calm, though. Although he's happier than he's been in a long time that I've finally reached adult status, he's disappointed in me. No Transmitter dose can hide the emotion.

What he wants to say is clear in his eyes. Verbalizing it would cost too many words. He has sacrificed so much for me to be able to Speak. In a moment, I have betrayed him and all that effort.

The list goes on, but I look away before I can see the full extent of the thoughts in my own mind.

I've been like this my whole life. Did he really suspect something more to come from me? There's never been a moment where I've loved the Movement more than my own life, like most citizens. I've always pushed the boundaries. I've followed the rules where it mattered, but I've never been able to do what a Movement citizen should at all times. I love being me--the Movement doesn't want me to be that. I don't understand how everyone's been able to follow all the rules and regulations like puppets.

"Merda Hoffing is entering," an automated voice announces through the speaker in the ceiling. My train of thought is interrupted. The intense eye contact my father and I had been making is broken as I tear my eyes away.

I cross to the hand mirror lying on one of the counters as soon as the voice finishes the first word. My father scoffs in disbelief that this is something I've only done upon Merda's arrival.

Merda is a girl who will become Spoken in two months and four days, who I've been in school with most of my life. I would consider her my girlfriend, but in the Movement's standards we can't officially start a relationship until the both of us have had our surgery. My surgery will give Merda hope two months can pass quickly. Then, we can be together forever.

It's been Merda and I against the world for years. We'd had another friend--Jordan--but he'd left our city when we were thirteen. One night we waved goodbye to him, and the next he wasn't anywhere for a hello. The three of us had bonded over our hesitance of Movement standards where no one else questioned anything. With Jordan gone, Merda and I could only rely on each other. I'd always been closer with Jordan, but his disappearance made mine and Merda's bond stronger. I can't trust or love anyone the way I trust and love Merda.

We have our own secrets that I wouldn't be able to share with anyone else. We know the true parts of each other that nobody else in the Movement will ever see. On the outside, both of us are basically model citizens. On the inside, we're imperfect, just biding our time. But we'll bide that time together when we're both eighteen.

I don't know what we're biding our time until. I don't think either of us have the guts to retaliate against the worldwide Movement. Two people can't change a whole society, or even escape it. I think when we're together, it will be time when we don't have to conform to the Movement. We'll have our own life outside of it, even if that life is nestled in the heart of the society.

I can't wait to show her how things change. Before I can I want to show that to myself, so I can know what she feels when she looks at me for the first time.