His Moon

Chapter 1

"Number 1479?" The woman behind the counter calls out.

I pull all my papers out of the pocket of my torn jacket and place them on the counter. There are dozens of documents signed by my parents and the Human Advisor of my Location Center. So many papers that took so much time.

The woman stares at me with dull, brown eyes. On the inside of her wrist are the numbers 1232 permanently printed into her skin. There are purple bruises on her arms, most likely from disagreements with the Disfigureds.

"Proof of identification?" she asks. The woman refuses to look at me, keeping her eyes down at the table.

I pull back my sleeve to reveal the numbers 1479 on my wrist. She glances at the numbers for a moment then turns her eyes to the documents. The woman shuffles through them, occasionally making grunts. I am not sure whether it's a good or bad sign. Her eyebrows raise at a couple of the signatures.

She nods. "Everything is in order." The woman stacks the papers into a neat pile.

I break out in a grin. "Great! When will I get my passport?"

The woman thinks for several moments. "In about five years, at least. Could be longer."

My jaw falls slack and my heart falls. "Five years? Are you sure?"

For the first time since I walked in, she looks up at me. Her old eyes are full of pity. She places a hand over mine. "I'm sorry, 1479. There are many people wishing to get a passport. It's a long list. Everything has to be processed. To me, it doesn't seem worth the wait."

"Please, 1232. I even have a letter of recommendation from the Supervisor of the Disfigureds!" I tell her desperately. I pull back the papers to show the letter. Getting that is an experience I never want to go through again. It ended with a fractured wrist and a swollen cheek. "There has to be a way to make the wait shorter."

She sighs. 1232 glances over her shoulder. "I'll tell you a secret." The woman pulls her face close. "Everything out there looks the same for us."

My eyes rove over her face, searching for the answers she isn't telling me. "What do you mean?" I ask.

1232 shakes her head with clear hate. "Humans have no chance. All the rumors are a lie. The fairies aren't setting up a sanctuary. There aren't cities made of gold where everyone is dressed in silk and jewels. And there most definitely aren't any human sympathizers. Stay in Center 422. Marry a strong man. Have many children. Live an honest life. You're safer here than out there."

Suddenly my mouth feels dry. "But—"

"No," she interrupts. Her eyes show a broken soul of someone who has been beat down her entire life. It's a look that is common here. "You're a beautiful girl. Don't throw your life away because you want a little adventure. Go home while you still can," 1232 begs.

Her words carry the weight of years of wisdom, but I can't find it in myself to heed her advice. There is no way that I'm going back now. Once I start, I can't stop.

Her words bounce around in my head. But what if she's right? What if there is nothing out there for humans? It's hard to imagine anything past the abuse we endure every day. Our houses are crumbling. The children are starving.

I'm always afraid.

What if it's like that everywhere?

I mentally shake my head of those thoughts. No. Even if everything is as bad as here, I have to see it for myself. I have to see that there is no hope. There is no way that I will be able to live my life in this prison without finding out if this is the best it gets.