THE PIT

CHAPTER 4 - GOODBYE

Mother called up my father distraught, telling him elaborate tales of how I'd screwed up the interview and created some fictional academy for myself. She sat perched in front of me on the edge of the sofa wringing her fingers, convinced I was lying to her.

After making his enquiries Father finally called her back and explained to her that Invictus was in fact one of the new academies which was why he'd previously been unaware of its existence. His contacts through his workplace – the local Freemen Centre - had explained to him that Invictus was in fact the most exclusive academy and would take in only two hundred of the two thousand students who'd be piloting the boarding academies this year. Apparently only the most intelligent and loyal followers of Freeman were sent there.

May. I felt a pang of sadness realising that I'd be alone there. May wouldn't get into Invictus, not with her grades taken into account.
On the first day of nursery school I had climbed into the wooden den and huddled at the back for hours until one of the boys came and pushed me out. I fell from about four feet off the ground and landed painfully on my hands and knees.

May had seen my fall and had quickly climbed into the den. A moment later the boy who had pushed me came tumbling out, falling haphazardly next to me. He lay there sobbing like a baby until one of the teachers came and carried him away. Once they'd left May peeked over the edge of the den, grinning at me. I blinked back tears and smiled back at her. She motioned with her hand, indicating that I should climb up and join her. From that moment on we were inseparable; we spent the rest of the Nursery year hanging out in our den, playing imaginary games - usually pirate sword fighting with twigs from the old tree.

We had never had a need to make any other friends, not when we had each other. I wondered if I would be lonely at Invictus. May would no doubt make friends easily with her fierce loyalty and relaxed persona. And it didn't hurt that she had sky blue eyes and wavy white-blonde hair. She looked like the quintessential popular girl. The kind of girl everyone wanted to be friends with. My heart sank. I had no chance.

"I've got to call all my friends." Mother was practically skipping around the living room now. The news that I – her daughter – would be attending the top academy was apparently something that the entire town needed to be aware of. I smiled bitterly, recalling how just a few moments ago she was yelling at me.

"Mrs Deyahn is going to be livid when I tell her. She was always boasting about how her daughter was top of your class. I bet her daughter didn't get into Invictus." She smiled smugly, as she pulled on her boots with a sense of urgency.

"I'll stop by the store on my way home. We'll have berries for an after dinner treat to celebrate."

I nodded weakly, though I doubted I'd be able to stomach anything. The coaches would be collecting us and driving us to our designated academies tonight.In just a few hours I'd be on my way to an academy full of trained Domini and students who'd rat me out if they caught me so much as swearing. It was going to be a difficult two years.

***

"Eat." Father said, pointing at my unappetising looking plate of roast okra, when he arrived home later that evening.I obligingly placed a small piece in my mouth and gulped it down after a minimal amount of chewing.

I enjoyed most foods, but okra was one I could never stand. The texture was not dissimilar to that of a hairy caterpillar with the inside resembling phlegm. Unfortunately it was summer and that meant we'd been eating it every night for the past month. May always laughed at our okra plant – each time a pod was picked another would soon grow back in its place. She jokingly called it "the gift that keeps giving".

"I said eat." Father raised his voice, pointing his fork at me threateningly.I find myself unable to control the small sigh that escapes from my nose. Immediately I realise my error and dive backwards as he jumps towards me with his fist raised.
"How dare you sigh at me?" he bellows. He's flushing red in anger and there are beads of sweat forming on his upper lip. He lunges at me but I manage to dodge the blow and I circle the table so he can't catch me. We dance around the table, and he becomes increasingly agitated.

"Izra, I'm going to count to three. If you don't come over here and take your beating it's going to be a lot worse than it already is."
I ignore him. I'd fallen for that trick once when I was a child, I wasn't going to fall for it again.
Mother sat at the table her gaze transfixed on her plate , of course she never stood up for me when father flew into one of his rages. Heck, she couldn't stand up for herself, what hope did I have?

"One..." He raised a podgy finger, "Two..." and another - "Three."
He picked up the crockery bowl filled with okra from the middle of the table and flung it at me.
I cried out in pain, as it shattered against my side.

"Stupid bitch thinks she's better than us now that she's going off to Invictus." He snarled. He grabbed his coat from the rack and stormed out of the house, slamming the door shut loudly behind him.

Swearing was punishable with anything from a large fine upwards to ten lashes. Father swore at mother or me every other night but he'd never once been punished. I assumed the Domini looked the other way for certain members of society. I had seen a great many Inziran who were never labelled as such and shockingly they were mostly prominent members of the community.

"Izra..." my mother said looking up now that father had left. "I've told you countless times to show him the respect he deserves."
If I showed him the respect he deserves I would have to spit in his face and piss on his grave.
She looked at me disapprovingly, almost as if she could tell what I was thinking.

"Go and change quickly. You can't go in that dress now that you've stained it."
Yes, mother. That's what happened. I threw a frickin' china serving dish at myself. How inconsiderate of me.
Of course I didn't say that aloud. I'd formed a habit of saying what I wished I could say aloud in my head. It was stupid, I guess but it made me feel a little better.

I ran upstairs feeling a little happier, despite her remark. My side was sore and likely bruised but I was able to wear my own clothes! That was a silver lining if ever there was one. I stripped off the dress and tossed it on the floor, glad that I'd never have to see that again. All of my clothes had been stuffed into the wheelie case so just I grabbed what was at the top - a pair of faded black jeans and a plain long sleeved cotton top in khaki.

I'd just scraped my hair into a messy plait when I heard the alarm. That was my cue to leave. Side-stepping my mothers awkward attempt at a hug, I left the house, closing the door behind me.

Street lamps lit the road just enough so that I could make out the writing on the coach parked in front of our home. Freeman Academies - Making a better society. Making a better you.
My lips twitched a little, I chastised myself. Got to work on that Izra, the smallest sign of contempt could get you caught. 

The driver had stepped off the coach to help me. Without asking he grabbed my case and threw it in the under head storage compartment.
"Get on." He grunted, poking me in the back with two fingers.

I climbed abroad scanning the coach. There were two young boys occupying seats a few rows from each other, neither of whom I particularly wanted to sit by. I walked past the boy with snot dangling dangerously from his nose. He was choking back sobs and rubbing his eyes. I ignored him and kept walking. We're all in the same boat now, there's nothing I can do for him.
The other was a large surly faced skinhead whose death glare made it clear he wasn't in the mood for a friendly chat.

The driver poked me again, impatiently. "Get a move on girl, I've got another seventeen of you to deliver by noon tomorrow and hell if I'm missing out on my bonus."
I mumbled a quick apology and headed right to the back, hoping I wouldn't be bothered there.