"We have confirmed that the terrorist has been captured. This is a joyous day not only for the country of Kitan, but also for the world. In two days time there will be a public hanging in the capital, and will be viewed in every home."
She sat on her couch, listening to the horrifying message on the radio. She didn't cry. She couldn't cry. She'd prepared herself for this to happen. She'd prepared herself for this day to come. But it was too soon. He would soon be gone, and they had barely done anything.
"For those affected by the terrorist, this day will truly be one to aveng-" The voice clicked off and she broke from her trance.
Looking up, she saw Louis, with his slowly aging face twisted with anger and sadness. "We should stop listening to this," he said softly. "We're already going to have to go see."
"Why'd you do that?" She asked as if she didn't hear him. "I was listening to that. Turn it back on."
"Cla-"
"Turn it back on!" She shouted, standing up. It offended her that she couldn't hear what was happening. She could hear what was happening to him. "I need to know what they're doing to him!" Louis just stood there, not saying anything in particular, just standing and letting her vent to him. "I need to know what they're doing to him. They could kill him! And I wouldn't know what they were doing!"
"Hush. The Listeners will hear you."
"I don't care!" She shrieked. "They already took him from me. They might as well take my life along with his." Not knowing what else to do, Louis pulled her into his arms, and held her tightly, just like how he did when they were younger.
She screamed and wailed into his chest, letting tears of pain spill from her eyes. Like a child, she gripping the back of his shirt to make sure he wouldn't leave. There's no helping this world, she thought. They just weren't ready.
20 years earlier
She was excited for her new job as a Conceptionist. She believed that she had the most important job in her country. No the world. She would be in charge of creating new life. She would be the one that would decide whether the new embryo would be fit to live in society. The one who could create and destroy life.
The nineteen year old had been assigned the job no more than three months earlier during the Calling, and had been jumping out of her skin ever since. From that day to this, she had gotten a flat not too far from her parents' home, and her own television. She'd never had her own, and was excited to watch the Mr. Bradley's twenty-three hundred broadcast by herself.
She also had to read up on her new job as a Conceptionist in a folder of rules and regulations given to her during the Calling. Thinking back on that day, she remembered the hundreds of people clapping and cheering for her as she was assigned to her new career.
They were always told not to boast, not to make themselves stand out, but on that day, she could help but turn to the crowd and wave at every single person while waving her freshly made badge and folder over her head.
Of course both her parents and the Committee of Elders chastised her later, but in her mind, it was worth it.
She eagerly bounced into the conception lab, her freshly washed lab coat hugging her body and dark framed glasses placed firmly on her nose. Not many people wore glasses, but the ones who did were deemed "lesser than" or "not as fit" as the rest of society, and were often excused from many sight related things.
That's why it was such a surprise when the career that required the most watchful eye was given to someone with glasses. But she didn't care. Not one bit. She was glad to prove herself worthy of the job.
Looking around, she could tell this was the job for her. The Council knew it, and she knew it. There were other Conceptionists, in their designated areas, either matching up a new pair of people for a new embryo, or checking the embryos for any deformities or mutations in the DNA before implanting it in the host mother.
With the exception of a few people calling over the Manager, it was relatively quiet. Everyone was so absorbed in their work to have a light conversation. But this not dim the amazement in her eyes.
A few other new employees had already gotten in their spots and were shadowing the others. She checked her folder and saw that she would be shadowing someone by the name of Louis Fredrickson.
She had remembered the name from last year's Calling, and knew he would only be a year older than her. Why would they assign me to shadow someone so young, she thought.
"At any rate," she huffed. "I have to find him." And her method was to ask the first person she saw who and where Louis was. She walked up to a man tall strong man, who looked to be fifty, and tapped his shoulder. He turned around and she immediately regretted it. This was the Manager. "Good morning Mr. Richards," she said politely. "My name is Clarissa Thompson, and I'm one of the new Conceptionist here-"
"Ah Clarissa!" He said, with a faux show of joy on his face. "Yes I remember you from the Calling last season. Great. Do you know who you are shadowing?"
"Yes actually. His name is Louis Fredrickson, and the Council did not provide me with a picture so I do not know what he looks like." She couldn't let him see how intimidated she really was. She needed to show him how normal she was.
"Louis...Louis. Where would he be?" Mr. Richards smiled at her and shook his head. "You see I don't know him that well yet. He just started working last year, and I haven't gotten a chance to really have a decent conversation with him."
You weren't supposed to mention your faults. It was one of the rules, and he just broke it. The Listeners were everywhere, and they would chatise him for this. She was sure of it.
"Oh," said Mr. Richards. "There he is." He pointed to a tall dark haired boy in the back of the lab. His back was turned, but Clara could still see that he was furiously working on something. "Good luck to you and welcome to the first day of the rest of your life."
"Thank you sir." Clara took a deep breath and let it out, trying to conseal her smile of excitement.
She tapped Louis on his shoulder, and he spun around with a look in his eyes she couldn't make out. "Yes?" he asked, a bit annoyed. "Can I help you?"
At least he's not ugly. And she was right. The young man had rosy pink lips, and light, very bright blue eyes. He had a strong jawline, which matched his muscular but still lean body. His black hair was tousled a lot, probably from running his fingers through it. She'd only seen one person before him who ran their finger through their hair, and was a strange and archaic habit to have. But it looked good on him.
"May I help you?" He asked again.
She blinked, being pulled back into reality. "Oh yes. I'm Clarissa Thompson, and I've been assigned to shadow you for the next year-"
"Oh that's right." He turned back to his area and went back to working. "I don't know how you can watch this process, but here I am choosing the best egg and sperm to use for the next offspring. Come on. Maybe if I get another microscope you can do it along with me."
She gasped and scrambled to his side. "How do you know which one to use?" she asked him.
He looked at her and motioned for her to come closer. This really wasn't normal behavior. Whatever you had to say, you said it. No whispers. No secrets. But if she was to shadow him, then she had to do whatever directions he had for her. And if that was hearing a secret, then so be it.
He leaned in and whispered, "I don't. I just play with them for three hours and pick the one I had the most fun with." He stood up straight and smiled sarcasticly. "They really choose the right job for me, huh?"
She stared at him, shocked to no end. You weren't supposed to play on your job. You wren't supposed to play at all. Playtime was meant for children, not for adults.
She stared at the man, who stiffled a laugh and moved the tiny sperm around. "This is a mistake," she whispered.
"I know right? I was shocked when they told me I had a shadower for the next year. You might not learn much. You can go with somebody else if you want. It wouldn't hurt my feelings."
I got stuck with a child, she told herself. A child in an adult's body.
"But," said Louis. "If you really want to enjoy this job then stay with me. It's your choice. And living here, I'd say you want to take whatever choice you can get."
A choice. She had gotten choies before, it wasn't like she had never made a choice for herself. She had made some. She grumbled and poked his arm.
He looked over, waiting for an answer. "I'll stay. But only if you teach me somethign real. Not just play."
~
It was nearing Curfew, and she still hadn't gotten this week's rations of food. She checked the time. "Twenty-one thirty. That's just great. Thirty minutes left." She'd either have to deal with the chastisement of the Watchmen or go hungry until lunch time tomorrow.
She decided to go to her new home, and not deal with the government for today.
Her flat was just like any other. Two rooms, one bathroom, one kitchen, one television room for watching Father and Mr. Bradley's speeches, and a walkway. Since there was no room for her to put her father's old collection of books made centuries ago, she kept them safe in her room.
Most of the books had been destroyed during the Purge of 2035, and Father didn't allow them. However her father was in the Free Market, and often came home with these paper books.
He would tell her she couldn't tell anyone he had these, and it was secret between them. That was one secret she was willing to keep. Just that one. And the fact that for five months she had watched a grown man play with sperm for hours on end.
But that's besides the point. She loved the books and her father too much to give them away. She liked feeling the dry paper on her fingers. The weight of the book in her hands, the sound of pages turning, and the choppy feel of blocks of pages against the pad of her thumb as she played the book while she read. It all just intruged her. And after a long day of blinding light and technology, it felt great to just unplug from it all and read without the blinding backlight.
That's why she kept the ten, five foot stacks of books in her room. That's why she risked being caught. Such a simple and idiotic reason, but a reason none the less.
After taking a shower, she looked at herself in the mirror. It was hard without he glasses, but she could see herself clearly through memories. The first thing she saw was her brown skin. It was light, caramel brown skin, but still brown under the eyes of the Elders.
Three things that set her back: Her womanhood; her brown skin; her glasses. When she put on her glasses, her dark brown eyes made her look bug-eyed in a way that was almost cartoonish, however that was set off by her full face and curvy body.
She sighed and walked to her room, getting dressed in her set of pajamas and ready to watch Mr. Bradley on the television.
"Today marks a day that went down in history as the start of World War Three," Mr. Bradley spoke into the camera set in front of him. A man short in stature, with a gotee and a full head of black hair, he was said to be the face of Kitan, and the voice of the world.
He always started off with a history of how this world came to be, and how they over came the hardships of their time. "It started when a man by the name of Ghandi, ferociously fought and kicked a race of people known as the British out of his country formerly referred to as India. His victory lasted not to long, as he was shot and killed. This started the wars between the Hindus and the Muslims."
She laughed at how stupid humans were. They fought over useless things such as land. There was no use for it if you kept it all to yourself. Land is meant to be shared, not taken for one set of people. She knew the story. She knew what Mr. Bradley would say.
"The Muslims were granted a new country," she spoke along with him. "A country called Pakistan. They thought they would live in peace. How wrong they were." She even shook her head in the disappointed way Mr. Bradley did every night. "The wars still continued, while a new issue arose. A new country by the name of Israel was taken from the Palestinians for the Jews. With nowhere to go, the Palestinians were left with one option: fight for the land they once had."
"Along with many other conflicts, there was no telling when a total war would break out. Then. On July 14, 2019, Pakistan bombed all of the major cities in India with nuclear weapons, killing millions of lives. This is the start of The Great War.
"Throughout the course of ten years, billions of lives were lost, and in the end, no one was victorious. In the end, all of the countries involved signed a treaty, The Treaty of Peace, declaring that all of the countries in the world would be lead under one government. Our leader thought up this plan. Our Father saved us from total destruction, created the world we live in today, and saved us."
"There would be no freedom without our Father," she said. "There would be no life without our Father! This is why we must obey him. He has given us the gift of living another day. Another year! We are at peace with him guiding us. We are his lambs, and he is our Sheppard. He must guide us in the right direction."
"All hail Father!"
"All hail Father!"
"Any who break the laws will be subject to questioning by the Head Council. Any who see law breaking must report it to the nearest watchman. Any who hides a criminal will be subjected to the same punishment as said criminal. Any who are not in their homes by Curfew will be subject to questioning. Any who is seen outside of their workplace during working hours will be subject to questioning. Now recite the rules with me comrades: One-"
"I shall not steal. Two: I shall not beg. Three: I shall not boast. Four: I shall not condescend my comrades. Five: I shall be polite at all times. Six: I shall not admit my faults. Seven: I shall not show aggression towards others. Eight: I shall work in a pace that is not stopping my comrades. Nine: I shall not think or say lustful thoughts towards my work comrades. Ten: I shall not break any of these rules."
"All hail Father!"
"All hail Father!"
Mr. Bradley stared into the camera for a second, then broke out in a smile. She sighed, startiang to feel guilty of soemthing she hadn't even taken part in. The "talk" of darker skin people.
"Now let's talk. Because Kitan is doing so well, there are other countries who are envious of our prosperity. These are the Suspicious. You can find them by searching for someone who looks like this." The pictures of an Arabian and Indian man and woman showed up on the screen.
She knew why. Their ancestors were the ones who started The Great War. And because of that when Kitan was formed, they were banished to the outskirts. They made their own countries, though many felt that they were cheated out of a good life because of something they weren't even apart of.
"If you see one, notify the Watchmen and they will be out of your hair and our country soon enough."
This effected Clara in many ways. She looked Indian, espically when she got her hair straightened. Her skin was dark enough to live peacefully, but thene could be light enough to be suspicious. And because of that, she often heard whispers around her, and many people asked where she was from.
This was the life she lived. A life made for peace had her constantly living in fear.
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Hello guys! Okay so I believe this would qualify as "dystopian" or something like that...? I don't know but please please please tell me what you think so far. I know there isn't a thing that has to do with "the boy" and the next few chapters won't (Sorry I'm trying to establish somethings before I bring him in) so stick around until then!
Oh and I'm not being racist (or at least not trying to be) but Im trying to use like current events and issues in the world for the start of The Great War (World War III basically). So I there's like this conflict with Pakistan and India over this little peice of land, and they both have nuclear weapons/capabilities and so I decided to use that. And then everybody knows about the war in Israle so I used a lot of Middle East stuff but I took a Middle East History class last year so I really know nothing else aobut the world haha.
But anyway I'm really sorry if you don't want to read because you think I'm being racist. :'( Just know I'm trying not to be. :'D