Meldor: Four Districts

Chapter 1

The day begins with gray sunlight peering through thin curtains and into my eyelids. I try to ignore it, but it gets brighter and brighter, and I have to accept that day is upon me.

I yawn and slowly sit up in my bed, which creaks under me. The bed frame holds my weight, but if I weighed any more it might collapse underneath me. As it is, it only bends.

As I yawn for the second time, my eyes crack open and scan the room. All of the beds are empty, sheets thrown this way and that. We're supposed to make our beds in the morning, but nobody really does unless we're threatened. When I stand up, blue nightgown reaching just below my knees, I make a half-hearted attempt at straightening my blankets. It's not that I care; it's that the rest of the room looks sorry enough, with its disheveled beds and threadbare curtains barely covering the windows.

I make my way to the bathroom and do my business before heading out of the dormitory. The stairs leading down to the main level are creaky, and I cringe each time a step groans under my foot. The spiral staircase has windows on the walls near it too, and from there you can see the wall in the distance, shrouded by gray fog. I stand by a window a moment, watching it. After a few minutes the fog clears, and the wall can be easily seen. It's made of gray-red stone that doesn't reflect the sunlight, and it's easily twenty feet tall. In school, they tell us no one has ever made it over that wall, and no one ever will.

I stumble down the last few steps and walk into the dining hall, which still has a few people in it. Most have already left to make the most of their off day, I presume. Those who are here are bleary-eyed or being picky with their food. Rubbing my eyes, I walk across the room until I hit the food line. No one's there, so I quickly take whatever's left and take a seat.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see people giving me looks. When I turn to them, they look down or away. I say nothing and just eat my muffin. I've learned a long time ago to not engage with the others.

Breakfast takes ten minutes. Changing and getting ready for the day takes fifteen. I stand in front of the mirror for a long time, not really looking at my reflection. Some people have called me weird for just staring into the mirror's reflective surface. I find it therapeutic. I can think about nothing and just let the glass fill my vision. It's like I'm floating.

Eventually I turn away from the surface of the mirror and walk downstairs, past the dining hall and through the back doors of the dormitory. The courtyard is usually full of dull-eyed kids rushing to their next class, but today it's full of life. At least ten kids are playing a game with a ball, kicking it to each other and running as fast as they can. A crowd has gathered around them, and I can hear whoops and cheers. There are plenty of groups of friends, talking and laughing around the trunks of trees. I think some of the younger ones are playing tag in the distance, their shoes almost tripping over the browning grass. The air, usually filled with hushed voices and mist, is now filled with voices laughing and yelling, together shouting Today is a day for us.

I take a solitary seat on a tree root and watch the ball game, a few feet from the main crowd. Two boys are passing the ball together like they're two cogs in the same machine; even though they don't look up, it's like they can see where the other person is. When a girl from the other team (I suspect) comes running towards them, the boys pass it around her like she's not there. Soon they are past another player, and another. The crowd cheers, and I swallow the urge to cheer with them.

Finally, the two boys are in front of what looks to be a goal: two sticks lodged in the ground and a guy in between them, ready to block any attempts at scoring. The smaller boy of the duo, someone with brown hair and freckles, goes in for the shot. The goalie dives, arms outstretched—and finds nothing in his hands. The ball's been passed to the freckled boy's partner instead, a taller guy with a lean build. With a smirk on his face, the tall boy kicks the ball into the opposite side of the goal.

The crowd erupts in celebration. The two boys perform some sort of handshake before the rest of their team engulfs them in a victory hug. With all the commotion, more people rush over to check out the situation, and the crowd thickens enough that the playing ground disappears from my sight. I stand, trying to find a better view, but it's completely obscured by kids' bodies.

Sighing, I sit back down on the tree root. The laughter and life continues on around me, but as I close my eyes it begins to fade from my mind. Soon it's like the world is quiet and it's just me, floating in space among the stars.

This inner place has always been my escape. When school classes have become boring, when I hear insults or intercept dirty looks, when the world rejects me, I can just come here. It's like sitting in front of the mirror in my dormitory, but it's anywhere. I endlessly float, away from the robotic caretakers and teachers, away from my classmates and other kids. Peaceful. Secluded.

I come here too often.

But soon, I won't have to. Soon, me and the rest of the kids my age will be claimed by one of the four Districts. Soon, I will leave this realm of the Unclaimed behind.

Soon, I will finally have a place to belong.

And I won't have to escape to my inner place again.

Something grasps a lock of my hair and pulls. I snap out of my zone and open my eyes. I hear a snicker to my right and I swivel towards it, but I don't see who made the sound. People are starting to go inside, and there are too many people passing by to see who laughed. My scalp smarts from my hair being pulled, and I rub it. It only makes it hurt worse.

I hunch over my tree root and just watch the ground and more and more people go inside. Soon, only a hand full of young kids are left playing and talking.

A clap of thunder echoes through the air. Instantly a door in a nearby building rolls opens, and a robot warden races out of the opening to herd the remaining kids inside. I stay on my tree root, huddled in a ball. Maybe the robots don't see me, or maybe they just don't care if I'm left outside.

The building door closes when the last kid is inside. I am the last person in the courtyard. A bolt of lightning streaks to earth in the misty sky; it is soon followed by another boom of thunder. Slowly, I stand up. Through the leaves above me, a raindrop falls on my nose.

Suddenly it's pouring, like the sky decided to fall all at once. The tree I'm standing under doesn't do much to protect me from the onslaught, and I feel raindrops soak through my clothes, my shoes, my beanie. The brown grass is pummeled, the dry dirt underneath it quickly turning to mud. Another crack of thunder splinters the air and I nearly jump at its force. The rain drenches the ground and batters the leaves above me, hurling itself at everything around it.

And yet, as I look around at this force of nature, I'm at ease. The rain drowns out every other sound and obscures my surroundings, so much that I can barely see the boundary wall anymore. It's strangely comforting. Slowly a smile comes across my face, and I embrace the rain, letting it slide over my skin and drench every inch of me.

Except for my hair. The roots of my hair are covered by my beanie, and while that is thoroughly soaked, the hair underneath it is just dampened. My scalp yearns for the cool rain.

My hand reaches for the beanie—and hesitates. Just for a second. Thoughts race through my mind, a river of swirling doubts—what are you doing you'll be seen they'll hate you they already hate you don't make it worse you idiot—before I push them away. I take a deep breath and clutch the soaked fabric, pulling it off my head in one swift motion.

Raindrops alight onto my hair, soaking them through. A shiver runs up my spine from the cold, but I welcome it. A clap of thunder echoes in the distance and I close my eyes. Rain pours around me, on me, into me. I am naked, alive, free. Nothing to hide.

Nothing to run from.