Violet tossed an apple into the nets below and wiped beading sweat from her forehead. She gazed across the Farm, allowing herself to catch a breath and take in the unhindered view of the orchard.
Identically dressed kids of all ages traversed endless rows of Trees, the tall metal spikes covered in vegetation grew the Farm's produce. After the Trees was a barn in disrepair where the produce was taken. Beyond that sat a decaying mansion where everyone but her lived. She stood on the tips of her toes to find a tiny shed, her home, tucked away beside the patch of woods in the distance.
She turned in a circle, searching for a hazy outline of the wall separating the Farm from anywhere else. The Farm was the only place she had known and the thought of staying there for the rest of her years suddenly made her want to scream. Is this it? Is there truly nowhere else for me?
She bit her lip and raised her head to the sky. The sun beat down on her upturned face and she smiled at the warmth. Please let there be a way out of this. She had this thought so frequently, it was almost her life motto. Violet had endured the Farm for almost sixteen years.
A blaring alarm announced the end of a work day echoed through the crudely built town. Violet scaled the series of ladders and grated metal walkways to swing off the first story of the structure into a graceful roll.
Violet popped back up unscathed, straightening her drab beige uniform before she grabbed a full basket and headed to the rusty red barn at the bottom of the hill. Crowds of youths leaving the orchard dodged her when she came close. Attempting to hide from prying eyes, she tugged her ridiculous sun hat lower on her head and quickened her pace.
Violet's hair had always been a cause for alarm on the Farm, no matter how much time her peers had to get used to it. She could see in her mind's eye the deep purple strands of hair snaking out of her hat. Smooth and unique, her haircut was short at the nape of her neck and tumbled down past her collarbones in long layered wisps. Violet had almost shaved her head once to look more normal, but Zia never let her go through with it.
As she signed herself out for the workday inside the barn, the sweet scent of the fruit around her reminded her of the lunch she never stood a chance to enjoy and her stomach gurgled a complaint. Next to her name she saw a note, "Go see the Director when finished."
She puzzled over this as she hurried down the gravel path towards the House. Why does he need to see me? I can't remember doing anything wrong...
Groups of younger children played games on the lawn, screeching as they ran, trying to get a ball through a gap between two poles. This was one of the only sources of entertainment on the Farm, besides reading. Not many children took the time to learn the skill, though.
Violet caught her breath in front of the doors to the House.
The House was an enormous building that might have been gorgeous at one time. Now, vines twisted around moldy bricks and slid under cracked windows. Trees long dead marred the path leading to the entrance. Upon approaching the front door, the scent of wet wood and smoke was subtle, a remnant of fires fought long ago.
Violet snaked her way up the staircases trying to be invisible while kids streamed in from their various workplaces. Inside, shoes were required for safe passage because the chipped wood flooring was bare and patchy. Her compact stature allowed her to slip in and out of the foot traffic to avoid being more late.
At the top of the stairs was the Director's Office, Violet sighed and tried to flatten her clothes to appear more presentable by combing her fingers through her hair. Holding her sun hat under one arm, she strode down the hallway to the Director's door and raised a hand to knock on the glass. Violet glimpsed a shadow in the door and a second later it swung open.
A tall old man stood beaming and gesturing for Violet to come inside. Mr. Hubert was the Director of The Farm. He looked like a grasshopper and spoke at a rapid pace. He was dressed in a grass green suit and wore a top hat with green and white stripes. Compared to the ratty clothes the youth wore, he dressed like a king.
"Ah, Miss Violet Hyde, you know why I called you in here, right?" Not waiting for an answer, his eyes darted around the hall outside and found an old digital clock. He clapped and gestured to the wooden chairs opposite his desk. "Have a seat, any seat, just not my seat." He laughed to himself, closed the door, and returned to his chair with his legs crossed neatly.
Violet studied him from her chair, trying to guess just how old he was. Lines crumpled his face, but such youth showed in his eyes. She didn't speak with him often. Mr. Hubert was a busy man who rarely took time for interactions with his wards. He took a special interest in Violet due to their shared past and her odd appearance.
Leaning forward, he tapped his whiskery chin and set his gaze on Violet, then, with a sparkle in his eyes he began, "When I first met you, you were thin and crying. Now you're strong and courageous." His mouth trembled at the corners for what seemed like an eternity.
"Um, thank you, sir. I do try... " She wasn't expecting him to say that. Her honey brown eyes grew larger as her grape colored eyebrows rose in discomfort. Violet picked at her cuticle with determination.
After a few moment's silence, he spoke again."Right, sorry, you're no longer that little girl and I reminisce too often. You are about to turn sixteen which gives you two choices. Your first option is to stay here and become an Overseer. I understand you have a talent for library work. Your second and unwise option is leaving the Farm and trying to make it alone out there with no one to help you at all. There's nothing but thick dreadful forest for miles." He said the last choice in haste before returning to his large goofy grin.
What do I say? This is the chance I've been waiting for, working towards, living for! How did my birthday creep up on me like that? But Zia... what will Zia have to say about this?
"I, I... when do you need my answer?" Violet gripped the ledge of Mr. Hubert's desk as she leaned in to ask.
"You have until the newest youths arrive to decide, but remember how valuable you are to all of us here! Also, remember the fact that if you leave we cannot allow you to return. I took it upon myself to keep you as safe as I could until you became of age to choose the Farm or beyond the wall. You must decide where you go." His tone was serious.
"Thank you for this opportunity. I'll think hard about it. Is there anything else?"
Mr. Hubert handed Violet a package with light blue paper. "Do not open this until you are alone and calm. I think it will help you make your decision. Please remember once you accept this gift, this present is yours to do with what you will. With that in mind, come see me at the end of the week with your answer, Buh-Bye." As Mr. Hubert stood he looked over his shoulders, then shook Violet's hand vigorously. He pushed her gently towards his door, patting her head as she walked out. The door slammed as soon as she cleared it.
Violet stood in the hall in astonishment as she tried to process his words.
He never let me respond. What is in this box that he doesn't want to talk about?
She thought of Zia, the only person she trusted and Overseer of the Library. She ran downstairs and down more stairs to the basement. Once inside, she found the door leading towards the Library. She opened the iron and stained glass door with a grunt, pulling it open wide enough to slide through before it closed with a deep thump.
Zia's young assistant Frida was standing in the doorway when Violet rounded the corner to Zia's office. The little girl ran to Violet and wrapped her arms around her for a hug. She stared up at Violet with large green eyes. Frida's hair was the same color as her skin, sandy beige, but her eyes begged for attention.
"Zia left a note for you and asked me to stay here until you came back from talking with Mr. Hubert. I was wondering if I can read her letter to you." Frida hummed as she found the letter on Zia's messy excuse for a desk.
"Sure! I'll be truly impressed if you can read her handwriting." Violet smiled and leaned against the cool etched glass door while she waited for the girl to sound out Zia's.
"Dearest Violet, I hear someone was called to the... Director's... office..." Frida fumbled over the words but understood enough to make Violet nervous.
She took the letter out of Frida's hands and read it herself. Zia had written that they should meet in Violet's shed at dark to talk about apples and offices.
"Thank you Frida, you're becoming a such an excellent reader faster than I ever thought possible. What are you reading now?" Violet asked with sincerity, hoping to encourage the girl out of shyness.
"Oh, I've been reading these blue and yellow books about a girl who solves mysteries with her friend," Frida said, proud of herself. Her eyes remained glued to Violet's hair as she shifted from foot to foot.
"I read those a couple years ago. I loved them all, nice choice. Um..." Violet looked down and brushed a long strand of hair behind her ear. My hair, she is staring at my hair again. Might as well get this out of the way. "Frida, do you want to ask me something?"
Frida chewed on her lip then let out a sigh before looking Violet straight in the eyes. She said," I'm being rude, but I really want to know why your hair is purple. Does it grow like that? Was there some accident? Do you even like it?" She stopped talking and just stood there staring, twisting on her sleeves, and concentrating on her battered brown shoes.
"My hair has always and forever been this color, it grows like this. I used to hate it, but I like it now. I guess I didn't have a choice!" Violet smiled as she took her hat off shook her hair out, bending down so the little girl could see the deep purple color up close.
"Oh, okay," Frida smiled up at Violet after inspecting a lock between her fingers. " I know Zia likes it, I asked her about your hair once and she said it was beautiful and that's all that mattered."
Violet gave the girl another quick hug and said, "Frida, I'll see you tomorrow. Please lock up when you're done. Never be afraid to ask me questions and keep working on your reading with Zia. Good bye, little one."
Once out of the House, she trudged across the grass towards her shed. Her thoughts turned to Frida. She is so sweet. I wish everyone else could be so understanding.
*Hi, if you enjoyed reading this chapter let me know by voting. Be sure to read the next chapter for a huge surprise! If you want to say something, please do so in the comments. I can't wait to hear from you!*