Knock.
Knock and then there's a sudden bark. I wince as the sound rattles through the black space of my sleep and then I'm suddenly shaken.
'Cut it out,' I mumble.
'Bee,' a familiar voice hisses. It's my brother Damon I recognise as a bright blinding light filters into the darkness. My eyes flutter open to find myself lying against a rather hard bed, wondering why he's using my kid nickname. He only does that when he really means it.
'What?' I mumble after stifling a yawn as I gaze up at the cracked white ceiling. I hear rushed movement from across the room and then there's a thud. I twist my head around to witness a young man wearing faded pyjamas who's just sat down on the end of my bed. He has a mop of brown ruffled hair that trickles down to his neck and is looking rather alert with his gaze continuously flicking from the door and then back to me.
'Go back to bed,' I croak wearily, wondering why he's waking me up this early. I squint, glancing around the dark room, forcing my eyes to adjust, even though they sting, blinking fiercely at the light.
'Blaire,' he hisses as there's another knock at the door. I turn away so that I'm sprawled over my left side and then without warning I'm thrusted up into the air.
'Damon,' I snap. 'What the...' I begin but he covers his hand over my mouth. I splutter as he carries me out of the door and into a narrow hallway.
'Willowby,' a rough male voice shouts as he bangs on the front door. 'Open the door!'
'Coming,' my father calls nervously.
He's tall with a thin layer of wavy brown hair sprawled across his forehead. He wears his work uniform that consists of black dungarees with a crisp snow white polo shirt and trainers. He fidgets with an old looking watch on his left arm as we pass.
'Thank Nest', he whispers anxiously with one eye fixed on me and the other on the door. My brother continues to carry me through and into a small grey room which has a tiny blurred window it in. To the left of the room are a couple of cabinets that are dressed in the same bleary colour as the walls. Behind one, my mother is scrubbing a dish in a grey bowl. Like my father she is prepared for leaving too, but instead of his casual clothes, she wears a white blouse that is tucked into black trousers, traditional uniform for the Business Strata.
She still looks quite youthful with her dark hair tied back into a tight bun, though I can see the faint smudge of wrinkles, daring their very best to break through sometime soon. She gives a sigh of relief as Damon releases me and then he heads straight towards an old bookshelf that sits opposite the cabinets.
I watch as he presses down on grey book and then the bookshelf clicks out, revealing a small room while I pick up a piece of bacon from a cabinet.
'Bee,' he murmurs in a very soft voice as he gestures towards the gap.
'How long?' I ask desperately.
Previous times I've been kept in there for hours. Apparently it's a tradition as I often hid there for supposed fun when I was younger. And to keep that tradition living, I'm supposed to keep doing it now, when anyone strange turns up at our front door.
My mother gazes blankly around the room for a second before whispering, 'I don't know.' And with that I enter the room and sit down with my back placed firmly against the wall. I watch as Damon carefully closest the bookshelf on the room, before turning to chew on the one rash of bacon I managed to save.
The front door suddenly rattles open and then there's a sudden bark of a dog and heavy footsteps which distracts me from eating. I feel the rash drop to my lap and then the floor. I scowl as I run my hands across the ground, desperately trying to find it, but it's useless in the dark.
'What is the meaning of this?' My father demands at once, in an irked tone.
'Just a random check-up,' a harsh male voice says. I move backwards in my hidey-hole to press my finger up against the wall, to where I spot a hole of light. I press my eye up against it to see a large German shepherd dog on a lead strolling down my hallway with two men behind it. The men both wear almost blinding white suits built up with pads that have black writing on their shirts with one initial - a big red C, followed by their surname.
Controllers.
Known because they're supposed to keep in charge of the people, herd them like cattle, according to Damon. They're our guards, once only in control of keeping our leader President Nest safe, but since then they've expanded like bacteria and being drafted towards the people to make sure they keep the rules and follow them at all times.
'Is this going to be long?' My father asks tiredly. One of the men cocks an eyebrow as he removes his helmet. 'It's just that we're about to start breakfast,' my father explains. They shrug as they glance around the apartment.
'How many people live here again?' Asks one of the officers that has grey eyes as he begins to scribble on a clipboard that he's just pulled out from his suit.
'Three,' he says firmly, without flinching. 'Myself Eric Willowby, my wife Ana and my son Damon. That's all.' I frown, I've heard these lines every time someone turns up and asks that question, but I never understand why they never mention me.
'Right,' says the other man who is covered in a dash of freckles across his face as he emerges from my shared room. 'Care to explain why there are two beds in your spare room?' I feel a shiver as I watch my father's expression tighten in unease.
'Relatives,' my mother says quickly as she grabs onto him. 'One came at the weekend and chose to stay over.' I shake my head as they swallow up her lies. All my life I haven't even seen my relatives either.
'What do you do for a profession again?' Grey eyes asks as he turns the page on his clipboard.
'I work in the local sewers,' my father replies. At this, Grey eyes flinches in disgust.
'And me, as a secretary,' my mother says.
'You don't work then?' Freckles asks as his gaze lands on my brother.
Damon sighs, 'I've been looking.'
'Look harder,' Freckles barks as Grey Eyes adjust the lead.
Just then their dog suddenly barks. I stare back in horror as it nears the wall where the hole is. It's seen me, I feel my heart gasp as I narrow back against the wall.
'What's this Neal?' Freckles asks as he kneels against the dog. Grey eyes shrugs as the dog pants as its orange eyes gaze back at me. Stupid dog. I watch as Grey eyes purposely drops the lead and the dog begins to strut into the main room like a king. I twist round to stare through another tiny hole that's planted in the wall where the bookshelf is. In front of it, sits the dog, panting eagerly while drool runs down its chin. It gives a sudden bark as its owners enter.
'What's it, boy?' Freckles asks as he rubs the dog's fur and then he gives a quick glance at my father. 'No one else is living here, Willowby?' He asks as he turns to face him.
My father nods, 'No one at all.'
Freckles eyes him up and down through slits, 'Neal, only ever sits and barks like that when there's a new human present, Willowby.'
'Well I can assure you, there's only me, my wife and my son,' my father replies. Freckles sighs as he looks away, only for my mother to rush up with the plate of fresh bacon that she's just finished cooking.
'It's probably this,' she declares, thrusting it under his nose. I watch as Neal the dog turns his head and pants much softer as his eyes catch sight of the meat.
'It could be,' Grey Eyes considers as he watches the pupils grow in Neal's eyes. 'Tell you what,' he says, rather suddenly after a long pause.
'We'll leave and won't raise any suspicions about Neal's behaviour if you allow us to take this lovely meat.'
'Take it,' my father says quickly. I frown as I watch Freckles snatch it up with a delighted look on his face as if Christmas has come earlier. He beams as he thrusts it in a bag, before throwing a bit to the dog. I watch as Neal crunches it up eagerly as Grey eyes clicks back his lead and escorts him away. I twist back around to watch them leave the apartment.
'Oh thanks for the bacon, Willowby,' Freckles grins from where he stands on the doorway.
'Yeah,' Grey Eyes calls, holding tightly onto the dog. And with that they are gone.
Immediately the bookshelf is moved and Damon helps me out.
'They took our bacon,' I mumble sadly as I sit back down again at the table.
'We've still got the bread,' my father replies optimistically.
I shrug as I glance back at the bookshelf, thinking back to the half-eaten rash. I sigh as I make myself to the four seater table that is squashed against the wall, a short distance away from the cabinets.
'Do you know what day it is?' My father suddenly asks.
'My birthday,' I murmur. 'I'm finally sixteen.'
Damon smirks, 'About time! You've been moaning about it for the last week.' I scowl before I swiftly elbow him.
'You know what this means,' I exclaim. 'I can go out and see the world.' At this my parent's face crumble and tighten.
'What's wrong with just us buying you a new book?' my mother says in an anxious tone.
'I'm sure that Mr Keller can give me a discount,' murmurs my father thoughtfully as he thinks of the local bookshop owner.
'I thought we decided this,' I grumble. 'I want to go out and that's all I want for my birthday. I don't need any books or anything else,' I pester. 'I just want to go outside just once and I'll be content.'
'Just once?' My father asks.
'Yes,' I exclaim. 'I just want to see what's out there, breathe the air, touch the grass and just talk to people,' I lament as my mother returns to the dishes.
'Well the air stinks for one, full of ghastly pollution apparently,' Damon mutters sharply which makes me frown. 'The grass is rather limp and yellow at the moment. And the people don't like talking. The closest they get to it is a grunt or a daggered look. It depends what you ask them.'
'I'm serious,' I exclaim irked.
'So am I Bee,' he grins. I roll my eyes and then glance at my parents to see my father picking up a piece of bread to eat for his breakfast. 'What's so bad out there that you want to protect me from?'
At this they all stop and then my parents give Damon a rather nervous look. He bites his lip agitatedly for a moment as he glances at my father for help, but none is given, so instead Damon just wipes his forehead.
'Bad?' He questions, unusually calm.
'Well it has to be bad or why else would I be kept in here?'
'You'll see for yourself,' he replies as he thumps down in one of the armchairs in front of the table.
'So does that mean I can go?' I ask them.
'If Damon goes with you,' my father answers as he reaches forward and picks up yesterday's paper.
Damon rolls his eyes, 'I guess I'll better get ready then.' At this he scrambles and heads out the room. While he's gone, I attempt to stop the hissing coming from the yellow radio in the corner of the room. When he returns, he's wearing one of his classic grey shirts with a dark waistcoat and a pair of faded jeans. A common fashion in Agora from what I've seen in the newspaper Damon sometimes brings home.
'You can go and get changed now Bee,' he comments as he unconsciously swipes his hair to the side, something I'm sure that would make other girls faint from.
'And then we can go?' I exclaim. He nods, unsmilingly. At this I rush into the room and quickly put on a black vest top and a pair of tawny cargo pants. Today is the day that I can finally leave this dungeon, I can finally start living, I can... My thoughts float away as I pick up my comb and bring it through my rather straight blonde hair that creeps down just under my chest. I decide to tie it back in a ponytail before I twist the loose threads behind my ears.
'Do you want to go out then or not?' Damon calls suddenly.
'Of course I do, just putting on my shoes,' I remark back as I reach under the bed and pull out a pair of tatty hand-me-down sneakers of Dae's. I wrinkle up my nose as the stench hits me.
'Bee,' he moans.
'Just give me a minute,' I grunt as I awkwardly hop around the room, trying to put a shoe on.
'Alright I'm coming in,' he says crisply. At that I fall back on his bed as the door opens to reveal him standing in the doorway.
'Finally,' I exclaim as my foot slides down into the shoe and then I pull a revolted face as I retrieve the other and stick my foot into it. 'Did you ever consider using air freshener in these foul traps?'
'Those foul traps are the very things that will make sure your feet don't come home in blisters and sores all over,' he smirks. 'And I happen to like my scent, so why would I use air freshener in the first place?'
'It might be a good idea, if you ever want to get married or get a girl at least,' I reply with a small smile as I scramble up. He narrows his eyes and then shrugs as he exits the room. He then halts as he nears the door before giving me a concerned look.
'You're sure that you really want to see the city today?' At this his eyebrows rise nervously.
'How many times are people going to keep asking me that?'
'As many times as it takes for you to give up that idea,' he says emotionlessly as he moves to right in front of the door. I glare as I near him and then I glance at him rather solemnly.
'Well Damon Charles Willowby, you're going to have to try a lot harder, because I'm not going to give up ever!'
'Damn, you're stubborn,' he says, looking pensively. I glance back sharply at him and then fold my arms.
'Open the door, now,' I say in a low voice.
He takes a deep breath and then declares in a rather resigned tone. 'Fine, but just this once.' I watch as he unlocks the chain and then snaps the door open. I smile and then I follow him into the outside world and beyond.
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Author's Note :)
Hi
Thank you for reading Chapter one. Please comment and vote, I really appreciate it.
In terms of the following Chapters, they'll be going under a slight rework...
Drifty X