The Truly Divine

Chapter 1: No More Tradition

Too loud, my breathing was too loud and whoever had broken into my room was sure to hear me. I wiped furiously at the tears streaming silently down my face, praying the perpetrator wouldn't hear me. Unfortunately praying doesn't work for me because they pried open the doors to my closet to reveal a frightened young women who again, unfortunately was me.

* * *
It is the afternoon before the big city festival parade celebrating the 36th Annual Renewed Society. However I wouldn't consider it renewed, the government basically just slaughtered half the country for trying to start a revolution, so my parents told me. When they were young they said that they were on the fence about the revolution because, although they believed the government held too much power, apparently rape and murder was a common occurrence.

However now them and everyone else seems to be scared away from the thought of rebellion, no one dares to speak about the before. I can't say I blame them; in all honesty I appreciate the government curfews and separation of class. All through my school years I've been taught that the poor are more likely to result to violence because they believe they receive cruel treatment, I mean I've never even seen the word be thought in the safe gated communities of Golden Grove.

I snap out of my thoughts and step into the steaming shower with the hopes of clearing the thoughts that threaten me every time during this year, but I can't seem to shake off what my parents call my "rebellious" side. I can't help it when I know what I've been taught in school is a lie.

When I was about 14 years old I became best friends with a girl named Kate, who lived in the lower city Balmer. I would always leave home to explore and even though I was slightly afraid of the lower class, my curiosity got the best of me. We'd sneak to meet each other everyday during one summer and it wasn't until Golden Grove soldiers infiltrated the city that our friendship ended. I've never seen her since, due to the fact my parents won't let me leave the gates anymore even though I'm 18, but in all honesty I'm scared to leave now. Some of the things I saw were terrifying; I can't comprehend having to live that way.

"Ms. Harold, your parents would like me to remind you to be downstairs by this evening for the banquet. They plead for you not to be late this time."

The Automated House Program pulls me from my mind as I step out to say, "Thank you House, I will be down shortly."

I sigh as I prepare to spend the day with stuffy rich people until the festival parade begins. I watch my blonde hair flow elegantly down my back as I zip up my coral colored gown and head downstairs.

"Oh Eliza you look gorgeous! Sweetheart look how beautiful our daughter looks!" My mother gushes as she looks me over. I watch as maids run frantic to finish setting the table and decorations while my mother and father obsess over my appearance. I couldn't care less although I feel terribly bad for the maids, they spend all day in a luxurious house like this only to be sent back to the middle class city; I take this all for granted far too often.

I take a seat in the cushioned chair and admire the decor before our, oh so lovely, company arrives. The walls are a dark crimson with golden borders matching the table cloth with real gold embroidery draped over the glass table. Fine China and wine glasses lay neatly on the cloth spaced apart with white roses as the centerpiece. The minutes tick by aimlessly and before I know it the room is filled with finely clothed neighbors talking of nothing important but business and gossip.

"That poor little Balmer town had to have our soldiers come in yet again," a women wearing a white parka sighs as if she is genuinely concerned.

"Oh for God's sake, what reason this time? They're upset because they don't have enough bread?" A man replies with a snort.

The way they speak about those people is disgusting; they act as if it's those people's fault they have to live in Balmer, that couldn't be farther from the truth.

"I heard there's talk of revolution in the town of Arroya," another woman chimes in holding a cigar.

"That's not possible, Middle class would know better than that. I bet you it's Balmer, if you ask me all of those executions are more than justified." The man smirks.

I abruptly stand up from the table, unnoticed, and walk upstairs. I can't stand to hear another word from their mouths, and honestly I'm afraid to hear more. The comfort of my bedroom is overwhelming as I lean out the window and take a deep breath. I smile at the familiar music of the festival as it moves closer, easing it's way through the streets pleasing the hundreds of cheering people.

Dozens of lights illuminate the buildings, signaling that someone in each of those, penthouse mansion looking apartments we all live in, is living their own tale. I've always found that so extraordinary, especially what life is like in other cities. The music comes blasting around the corner as the parade comes down my street shattering my thoughts. I look down at the floors below me and watch as other kids and families walk out onto their balconies or lean out their windows to get a glimpse of the beautiful sight below.

A thud from the ceiling alarms me. No one should be above us; we live on the top floor. I try to push away the paranoid feeling with the assumption that it's an animal but, when the rapid steps of feet make it's way across my roof, I am immediately aware that it is definitely not that. I back away from my window as a pair of feet come swinging into my room attached to a tall figure. I stumble over my bed and fall to the floor cursing the parade for drowning out my screams. Before my brain can think I am running down the hall of my bedroom and into the massive closet praying they weren't close behind.

It isn't before long that the intruder pries open my closet door and I scream for what seems like the millionth time. My sobs are muffled by their hand and I can tell from how close I am to them that he is male. Panic surges through my body at a rapid pace, this could end much worse than a burglary.

We're back in my bedroom where the moon is pouring through my window and the once calm scene now looks desolate. He places me on the bed and slowly removes his hand while the other is pressed against his lips. I don't bother to struggle anymore, he obviously had no problem dragging me out my closet and down the hall regardless of my thrashing. I sit in silence as he stands to speaks and I finally see his face in the light and gasp.

"Please, I need your help."

(I'm really sorry if this chapter is short. I've worked on itforawhileandIdidn'twanttostopandanawkwardspotbutIdidn'twanttomakeittoolong. If you like it please comment, vote and all that good stuff. I can't guarantee when the next chapter will be up, but if I get any response I'll know someone is reading and waiting so it hopefully won't be too long. I really hope you like it, I'm still new so give me a bit of slack. Thanks!)