No matter what you did, you could never escape it. It was similar to Jaws, the feeling of intense, unavoidable danger around every corner, choking you until you fell into a deep sleep, one you would never wake up from.
Except that the Judgement wasn't a movie that you could turn off when it became too frightening. It was a terrifying truth that every female living within the walls of The Inner Division.
Some prayed that they would be killed that day, and be spared a tragic life as a slave.
There were three things that could happen to a young woman when they were judged. They would be killed, sold to one of the outer divisions, or forced to work in a menial job within The Inner Division until the day they die.
The day had finally arrived when Arabelle Steam would be forced to climb the steps of the capital and learn her fate. Although many wished to avoid the life of a slave, she hoped that she would be sent away to an Outer Division.
She had never known her family. All she knew of her mother was that she had been assigned to a job in one of the many security buildings in the Inner Division, but she would never learn her name or if she had even loved Arabelle- even if they had only been together for three days.
The only family member she truly knew was her brother. She had been granted the great privilege of being allowed to live with him until the day of her Judgement.
Joseph had the advantage of being an Outer Division representative, and on frequent occasions, he had assisted with Judgements.
"The worst thing you can possibly do is allow them to know you are afraid," he'd told her over and over again. "I'll be assisting again this year, and although I'm not allowed to speak to you, just know that I'll be right there every step of the way."
He seemed to hug her more often as the days of her Judgement drew closer. She knew he was terrified of losing her. He knew of their parents, but was prohibited from telling her anything. Had anyone found out that he had been telling a woman about her family, he could be imprisoned for life.
Arabelle woke up on the day of her judging and propped herself up onto her elbows. For a while, she simply stared at the faded floral wallpaper, coming to the full realization that she may never see it again.
Gradually, she forced herself to stand and stagger towards the wall, gently splaying her hand across a torn rose. Citizens were forced to wear uniforms whenever outside their homes, and ordered to wear assigned clothing indoors and when visiting neighbors on holidays.
But when it came to the designs inside of a house, be it the furniture, pictures, or paintings, they were given slightly more freedom.
However, their last spark of self expression was dying out, as meetings were being held amongst officials to force citizens to live in houses that were decorated by government appointed designers.
Unable to stare at the wall any longer, she padded towards her dusty oak dresser. She pulled on her required outdoor uniform and then joined her brother and his family downstairs for breakfast.
The table seemed to be frozen with silence as she descended the stairs. Wendy, Joseph's wife, gave her a sad glance as she plated her son's meal.
"Good morning Auntie Belle," David greeted her, unaware of what day it was. "And a very good morning to you too," she smiled at him and ruffled his dirty blonde hair.
Feeling the tension in the room break, Wendy opened her arms and hugged Arabelle tightly. "I know it's scary," she whispered, "But Joseph is doing everything he can to assure your safety tonight."
Arabelle was immensely grateful for Wendy, who had told her about the process of being judged many times.
Wendy shook violently as she was led down a dark path. Two bulky men pushed her forward by her shoulders. Every time she attempted to steal a peek behind her at one of the other girls, they forcefully pushed her head forward, growling low warnings at her to keep her eyes straight.
After what felt like eternity of walking down the same hallway, they finally turned off into a nearly blinding white room. Another group of girls had already arrived, and were seated on the scattered pieces of furniture.
Outside, the rain belted down on the window. One of the girls stood nervously, hoping to close the curtains to try and block some of the noise. Before she could even take two steps forward, she was grabbed by the back of her blouse and yanked back down into her spot by a handler.
"The Judgement will begin in three minutes," a man's voice said calmly over the speaker, as though the rumors that many of them would be killed had simply been false and no one was in any actual danger.
The seconds ticked by at an agonizing pace. As each one passed, young Wendy found herself getting more and more agitated. She continuously smoothed the skirt of her turquoise dress. For the only day a girl was allowed to wear anything besides her standard uniforms was her Judgement day and her wedding day.
If she even lived long enough to be married.
Finally, two men in smooth, expensive looking suits waltzed into the room.
"There are some good choices today, aren't there Will?" One asked the other.
"Yes," he said back. "Better than last years, if I do say so myself."
Two by two, they led girls out of the white room, showing them to a separate room where the president of the Inner Division gave them final judgement.
Wendy was in the last pair to leave the room. As they walked towards the office of the man that would decide if she kept her life, she closed her eyes and prayed silently.
"Open your eyes," the one in the blue suit whispered to her.
"That's right," the one in black continued. "The president will think you're disrespectful."
She took a deep breath and forced herself to open her eyes. There were only a few scattered lights in the hallway, and it was hard for her to make out anything in the darkness.
"We're here," the man in navy said softly, his voice much darker and deeper than when he had whispered his helpful warning to her.
He extended his arm out past Wendy's ear and gave the door three quick knocks.
Tap tap tap
As if by some paranormal force, the door gracefully opened, and then shut behind them once they had entered.
Before them sat the president, the man whose great grandfather began the tradition of the Judgement after the last nuclear war.
He had turned away from them, so that all they could see was the large, plush, rectangular backing of his office chair.
Wendy was worried that he had forgotten about the final pair of girls, and that he would simply sentence them both to death out of boredom.
Just as she was ready to give up all hope of making it out of the capital alive, the chair spun, and she saw the president.
His features weren't harsh like many of the other politicians who worked in the capital. Rather, his sapphire eyes and mahogany brown hair gave him the look of a rather gentle man. His chin was not sharp or angular, but instead, his jawline was soft, and covered with a thin layer of stubble.
No one could deny that he was a handsome man. It was apparent that he worked a great deal to keep himself in top physical form, for his figure was tight and strong, even for someone who spent most of his time sitting behind a desk.
"Aren't you two lovely?" He noted without looking at them. His eyes were continuously drawn to the report in front of him. "Alexandra Lasen and Wendy Truman," their handlers announced.
Two more marks went into the report.
The president chuckled to himself and finally peered up at them. "It has been a long day," he told them. "I am about to mark down how you will be judged, but since you are the final pair for the day, I want to ask you a question?"
Sweat coated Wendy's palms as she awaited his inquiry. No matter what you did, you never interrupted the president, and you never made him feel as though you were rushing him.
After what felt like a few years, he spoke.
"If you could choose where you would go, where would you choose? Alexandra may answer first."
It took Wendy's partner a moment to realize that she had been given the freedom to speak. With the terror of being judged, she fell to her knees and begged for him to allow her to return to her home in the Inner Division and work in one of the bakeries or factories.
The handlers behind them grabbed her by the underarms and forced her up. As she sniffled and regained her composure, the president directed his attention to Wendy.
"Your turn."
Wendy gathered all of the courage her body had left, straightened her back, and looked him square in the eye as she answered his question.
"Sir, I don't care where I go. I simply do not want to die."
She had never considered herself a bold person, and Wendy even shocked herself with her statement. The air around them grew still as the president stared at her.
Seconds later, he shook his head and glanced away. "Lasen, you're being put to death. And Truman....you're being sold to the Third Division."
Alexandra sobbed as she was dragged from the room by one of the handlers. The other turned Wendy around and led her through the cherrywood door of the office.
"Oh, and one more thing," the president remarked as her handler began to close the door behind them.
"Happy Judgement Day."
"I have never been able to forgive what he did to that poor girl," Wendy explained to Arabelle. "It was malicious to dangle the possibility of life in her face and then take it away from her."
Having finished their breakfast, David hurried away to play with his friends on his weekly day off.
"Well," Wendy sighed after her son had left the house. "Let's go pick up your dress. You want to look your best for the president."
Rather than follow in Wendy's footsteps, Arabelle had chosen to wear fire engine red that showed off her copper red hair.
Once back at the house, Arabelle brought out the only brush and hair pins they possessed. "I'll do what I can with these," Wendy told her. "If we have to, we may be able to sneak one or two more from the neighbors."
But Arabelle knew that they wouldn't be able to. Her best friend lived just next door, and she too would be getting ready to be judged.
As Wendy brushed and twisted and braided, Arabelle replayed the story of Wendy's judging in her mind. Arabelle had spent many nights dreaming about the tale of her Judgement, and she wondered what, if anything, would be different from her own.
"Done!" Wendy announced and she pinned the last braid into place.
Not long after that, a pristine black car arrived to transport Arabelle and Victoria to their judging.
Several other girls were already in the car when Arabelle boarded. As she stared at each of them, she saw the same mixture of fear and terror.
For all of them, it would be one of their last days of luxury. For some, it would be their last day.
Each one had on a different dress, some in colors that Arabelle had never seen before. She passed time on the long ride by trying to give each one a unique name.
The capital was at least an hour away from her home. No one spoke, and instead they all listened to the sound of the tires rolling over the smoothly paved street.
As they entered the capital city, they were briefly struck by the majesty of the many pristine marble buildings that had been spared the nuclear wars.
The dome resting atop the main capital building glinted off the sun, sending blinding rays of light into their eyes.
Trams passed this way and that, carrying people to places of leisure. Each week, they were allowed one day off of their normal work schedule, and many citizens used that day to interact with neighbors or hang out with friends at recreation centers.
There were similar trams in Arabelle's hometown, but none as sleek and as kept as the ones in the capital city.
Everyone seemed to be hurrying somewhere, even though it was an off day and no one needed to rush. Arabelle was in awe at how those who lived in the main city seemed more lifelike, and less like monotonous robots, although they were still required to wear the same outdoor clothing as everyone else.
The car rolled up and down perfectly paved, nearly black streets until it stopped in front of the capital building with its imposing dome and the frightening pillars standing guard out front.
Victoria grasped Arabelle's hand. "I hope we both live," was all she said as their handlers appeared and guided them up the stairs and through the darkly painted double doors.