Torn

Chapter 1

I neatly formed my letters the best I could, preparing for once again, another A. I took pride in my work. It was some of the best of my class. How could I not be proud?

"Turn your exams in now, class." announced my teacher, Mrs. Ricketts.

I finished up my last question, which was a risk since we are required to turn in our exams as soon as we are told, and stood up slowly, filing behind the rest of the students who immediately obeyed Mrs. Ricketts.

"Class is dismissed." She added.

I was secretly relieved, even though I'm supposed to love school. The government makes sure that every student is satisfied with school and our schoolwork. Anyone with a grade below B+ must be punished and have a meeting with the government officials over our studies to discuss why our grades are so low, and to immediately fix the problem. But they couldn't know what I was thinking. On the outside, I was the perfect student. Straight As, always polite, studies all the time. Nothing for them to be concerned with. On the inside, I couldn't wish more that I was away, not being forced to participate in such worrisome things. They aren't in my head. They don't know what I'm thinking. They can't fix that. Can they?

Inadequate thoughts, Avery. Stop now. I scolded myself, again, inside my head.

I scurried down the sidewalk, hoping not to be caught in the afternoon rush. I'd never be home by my set time, 3:15, if that happened. I can't be scolded again. One more mark and it's off to meet with government officials to discuss my tardiness.

When I stepped one foot inside the door of my home, my mother immediately started talking. She gently yanked me in and shut the door behind her.

"Avery, what have we discussed? It's 3:13. You were almost late." She sternly said.

"Yes, mother, I understand your concerns. I apologize for my actions. I will try to arrive home faster next time." I replied, obediently.

"Posthaste. Faster is not a word to be used. The government is requesting that it be removed from our vocabulary immediately." She corrected me.

"I will try to arrive home with posthaste, mother."

"Very well. Remember the consequences for your last mark, Avery."

"I do remember, mother. May I ask, why are we removing 'faster' from our vocabulary?" I questioned.

"That's none of your concern, child. The government does what's best." She snapped.

There it is. The famous answer to all my questions. "The government does what's best." is the reply I get each and every time I ask a question that seems to be unsuitable for me. Don't forget the use of "child". That's what we are to be called by our guardians in times of troubles.

"Yes, mother." I replied, head hung low. I wish I could know information that I wasn't taught in school.

"Full of questions, aren't you? A mighty horrible thing to be. Must I remind you again that you are not question things out of your range?"

We've always been taught to immediately dispose of any questions that pop into our heads. We're taught it's a horrible thing to be full of questions and curiosity, and that something is very wrong with you if you cannot stop these thoughts and you have them often. I wonder if something's wrong with me. Maybe I should request a doctor's visit. Of course, too many meetings with a doctor could result in getting relocated, but I've only had one my whole life. I'm sure another wouldn't hurt.

"Mother?"

"Yes, Avery?" My mother replied, paying no attention to me at the moment.

"I request a doctor's visit." I plainly said.