chapter 3
the fourteenth of may, 2155
She stands there quietly, a tear induced with her black mascara rolling down her cheek. Her hair is messy, the majority of wild strands tucked behind her ears. The faded red lipstick is smeared down to her chin, and she's paler than usual. I take a small step towards her, wondering..
"What happened to you?"
She doesn't answer. She stands there completely still, like she can't even function.
"Nancy! What happened!" I shout in a whisper, so that no one upstairs hears it.
"I... He..." she limps, struggling to hold herself up. I get to her, putting her arm around my shoulder. I feel her get heavier, so I help her inside to keep her from falling onto the cold stone porch. I try to carry her to the living room, but her arm slips off my shoulder, and she crumples to the floor.
"Nancy! Tell me!" I demand. I get to the floor with her, the stone tiles pressing against my legs. She releases a sob, her head swaying as I touch her hands. They're ice cold.
"He-" She tries, but her head bows down before letting herself finish. I see her tears fall onto her dress, creating black spots on the otherwise white fabric. I stroke her back, pressing her head against my chest, letting her sob into it.
I'm about to ask her what happened once more, but she pulls herself up slightly, looking at me. She inhales heavily, wiping away some of the black around her sore eyes.
"I didn't want to," she shakes her head. I try to figure out which emotion is radiating out of her greying eyes, but I don't think there is any. They are completely empty.
"You didn't want to w-" I start, but I halt once I see the distinct red marks on her wrists, and around her neck. Daniel...
I close my eyes.
We don't talk about this. Nobody talks about this.
But it happens.
I find myself at a loss for words, and I can't think of anything to do but to hug her. I embrace her tightly, resting my chin on the top of her head, feeling her shiver violently. I try to calm her by rubbing her back, but her sobs become heavier against my neck.
"I'm here, you're safe," I whisper. I clench my hands lightly around the top of her arms, and they tense up.
"I told him to stop, I told him to stop, I told him to st-" she repeats rapidly. I stare at her bruised wrists. They make the shape of his hands in blue and yellow, and I cover them with my fingers so Nancy doesn't have to see them.
He did this to her.
"Nancy, we have to tell someone," I breathe, causing her to sit up straight within a second, staring into my eyes.
"No," she shakes her head, and she jerks her hands to herself, grabbing a hold of my shoulders.
"Don't tell anyone."
"You can't tell anyone! Promise me!" She urges, as a tear leaves her eyes along with any concern for justice. Her eyes turn wide, the blue in them fading away as her grip of my shoulders weaken.
"Nancy, we have to go to the police, the hospital, something!" I whisper sharply, slightly raising my voice. I hear an echo of myself from the walls of the large hallway, and I use the moment of silence to listen for any noise from upstairs. But there isn't any.
"Are you crazy! What good would that do, Lia?" she protests, wiping away her tears. She tucks a few more strands of hair behind her ear, taking a deep breath.
I consider it for a second, and I realize the sense in her question. More often than not, there is no justice for the women who fall victim to this.
There is no justice.
"Well..." I start as I get up from the cold stone floor, reaching my hand out to her.
"We can't stay here."
Another wave reaches the rocks, the cold air causing Nancy to tighten the blanket around her. The end of the ocean fades into the beginning of the sky, and the silence of our surroundings comforts the scream of our minds.
It's been well over ten minutes since either of us uttered a word. There is nothing I can say to make her feel better. Her dress peeks out of the blanket, the black spots drying into the fabric. She leans her head on my shoulder, sharing the view of the horizon, slowly coming alive.
I don't know what time it is exactly, but I assume it's well over three in the morning now. We'll have to get back soon. Since it's nighttime, walking in public by ourselves is less dangerous than normal. We couldn't stay at my house, so we came here. To the water.
"We don't have to talk, you know? We can be quiet." I say, finally breaking the silence.
"But you can talk to me, Nancy," I say. All of the gradients of the sky blends into one, as the edge of the sun ascends over the ocean. Nancy sniffs, the tip of her nose turning red from the gentle sting of the wind.
"Anytime, anywhere, about anything."
"I'll listen," I say. The weight of her head decreases on my shoulder as her chest rises, inhaling deeply. I don't know if anything I say right now means anything to her, but at least I know she hears me.
"Do you think it's better..." she starts, gazing intently at the horizon. She relaxes her shoulders, leaning forward.
"Out there?"
It takes a few seconds before I understand what she means. Across the water. Someplace else.
I have thought about it, but not much. We've always heard horror stories about how civilization outside the country disintegrated because of the progressive movement. There is no life waiting for us out there either.
"Do you think there may be a place out there, where we're..." she continues, breathing lightly. A look of wonderment spreads in her eyes, as she watches the sky turn blue.
"Equal?"
I join her view, turning towards the horizon. I join her misery, which for a long time I thought didn't exist. I join her thought, imagining a place where we can live our lives for ourselves, and not for somebody else.
"I don't know," I answer her. She turns to me, her grey eyes pointing right into my soul.
"Maybe," I encourage. After what Nancy's been through, I'll do anything to make her feel better. Even lie.
She turns away again, shivering lightly, as the wind grows strong. She looks down at the rocks clashing with the waves, interrupting the silence. We sit in silence for another hour or so, but as the sun approaches the horizon, we realize it's time for us to go back home again.
I take off my shoes before I open the gate, avoiding the noise they would make against the concrete. I said goodbye to Nancy a few minutes ago, and now I'm just hoping her parents didn't notice that she was gone. We don't live that far from each other. Our house is pretty secluded, with a two-minute walk to the next property.
I approach the entry barefoot, and I carefully open the door. I take off my jacket, placing my shoes neatly under the coat-hanger. I exhale deeply, relieved that no one was waiting for me behind the door. I walk further into the house, up the stairs, but I stop halfway when I see someone sitting at the top, staring right at me.
"Thomas," I gasp, freezing with my hand on the rail. His brows furrow as he stares, a look of doubt fogging his eyes.
"Where have you been?" He questions, raising his shoulders. I struggle to come up with something to say, terrified that he might have told Father.
"I... was out," I try. He squints slightly, standing up. He walks a few steps down, down to the one just above me. His dark blonde hair is messy, like he just has woken up.
"Where?" He asks, crossing his arms. I look at his dark brown eyes, searching for an excuse. But there isn't any.
"To the water, but we had to! Please don't tell Father," I beg. "Nancy came here, and she was crying a- and, Daniel hurt her, I had to do something, so we-" I start, blurting out word after word before he interrupts.
"Daniel, in your grade? What did he do?" he inquires, curiosity oozing out of him as he leans his neck forward.
"That's not for me to say, Thomas. Just please don't tell anyone," I plead again, and his shoulders lower, releasing a defeated exhale.
"Well... is she okay?" He sits down, putting us at the same height again. I take a second to consider it because I'm not sure what to say. Yes?
"I don't think so," I admit, looking down for a second, reminded of her empty grey eyes that were once hopeful. He slicks his hair back, taking a deep breath.
"I won't tell anyone," he says. I close my eyes for a second, letting the relief slow down my unsteady heartbeat. I mutter a thank you, and I walk up the rest of the stairs.
"But please Amelia, don't do it again, it's dangerous. Just imagine what Father would have done if he found out," he reminds me, and I nod cautiously. I walk to my bedroom door.
"Amelia," Thomas calls. I turn to him, and I see his troubled eyes fill with what seems like... compassion.
"I hope she feels better."
"Turn your page to chapter thirteen!" Mr. Whicker instructs, standing at the head of the class. It's a warm, damp Friday morning. Birds chipper in the distance, and I wonder how they can be so happy in this miserable heat. Fridays usually make me happy, but I haven't seen Nancy since Wednesday night. It worries me.
"Last class, we discussed the totalitarian, anarchist ideology that is Feminism," he reminds us. I reach the page, and I'm taken aback by the multiple pictures, displaying the lifeless bodies of hundreds of men and females scattered around what seems to be battlefields.
"Today, to summarize the curriculum for your exams, we are going to briefly repeat the subject of the civil war that started in twenty fifty-six," he says, and I bite my tongue not to sigh. The number of times we've gone over this subject in the last year is ridiculous. But as he says, it's for the exams. We'll have to have this stuff memorized.
"As you probably know, this civil war was the deadliest in history. Millions of people perished in this battle, examples of how pictured on the top left corner," he informs.
"It lasted for three years, and the pro-patriarchy party won in 2058, finally ensuring a natural and correct government."
My mind trails off to think about how life would be like for me before the civil war. I'm reminded of what I said to Nancy last night, about how there may be a place out there where we're equal. I said it to comfort her, but I don't really believe it. However, I believe there once was.
Every pair of eyes in the class immediately flick to the door, as someone swings it open. She enters the room, wearing a pair of loose gray pants, and a wrinkly blue shirt. Her eyes have turned droopy, with smudged mascara still around her eyes. The neck scarf covers the bruises I saw last night.
"Nancy?" Mr. Whicker gasps slightly, glaring at her from head to toe.
"Yeah, hey I'm sorry I'm late Mr. Whicker," she breathes, her dry lips moving slowly. Her eyes scatter across the whole class, before locking them into someone at the front row.
Daniel.
"Nancy, take a seat," Mr. Whicker says, his annoyed eyes following her as she walks past him. She cringes, moving inches away from Daniel, and she closes her eyes until she's safely a few feet away. He seems surprised, shocked even. I recognize the same stare in the other students, probably visible on my face too.
She walks heavily to the seat next to mine, dropping her purse onto the floor next to her desk. She sits down, slouching over the table, putting her chin in her hands, resting her elbows on the surface.
My lips part, bewildered as she tiredly raises her eyebrow, finding the page Mr. Whicker wrote on the board. She exhales heavily, ignoring the frowns all directed at her.
A few seconds of silence pass, before the teacher says; "Let's continue." Nancy glances over at me, and I offer a smile. I figured that she wasn't coming to school. Maybe that would've been best.
"Brave men helped rebuild the country, and the Patriarchy has been the reigning social system ever since."
I'm not able to pay attention. My sight lingers on her face, the greasy hair, the pale lips, the baggy clothes, the blank expression on her face... I've never seen her like this before.
"Our government has evolved over the years while encountering several threats since its implementation." His voice whisks in the background, and I see Nancy's eyes glaring at Daniel, sitting in the first row, not even bothering to look back at her. I move over a little, nudging Nancy on the side of her arm. She turns to me, her face blank.
"Are you okay?" I mouth, careful not to make any noise. She nods carefully, and I regard her nervous tampering of the pen she holds in her hand. The bruises on her wrists are still visible.
"I'm great," she breathes sharply, clenching her hand, nearly breaking the plastic pen in half. Her eyes flinch when Daniel shifts in his seat, glancing over at her. He smirks wickedly, winking at her as if nothing has happened.
"The latest threat, being the uprising in 2136," Mr. Whicker eyes shift between the history book in his hand and Nancy, just like every other set of eyes in the room. I want to reach over and hug her, comfort her, just... something.
"It was started by a twenty-four-year-old woman, named Adira Knight," he pesters on while keeping an eye on Nancy.
"She gathered thousands of deplorable, nasty rebels, most of them being unclaimed females, and attacked our government. These people truly believed that they were equal to men and that entitled to every opportunity that men had," He says, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"If you take a look at the bottom right corner, you'll see a picture of the rebels. At the front, you'll see the infamous leader of their movement," he says, making me dart my eyes towards the picture. It shows a female, holding a flag in front of a crowd. A female symbol is plastered widely on the black fabric, circling a clenched fist. The woman holding it has thick, curly hair, and she wears a light blue shirt.
"With the help of our fierce military power, they were soon defeated in 2137."
"The government executed Adira Knight, along with the captured members of their band," He summarizes. I trace my eyes up to hers in the picture, feeling like she's looking right at me through the paper.
I jerk from my thoughts when I hear the slam of Nancy shutting her book, right next to me. She pushes the book away from her, almost falling off her desk. She leans over in her chair, and a silence emits through the entire room.
"Nancy?" Mr. Whicker takes a step in her direction.
"Yes?" she responds weakly.
"Are you feeling ok?"
"Can I be excused? I'm about to hurl," she says, and a trail of gasps ensues across the room. My jaw lowers, making my lips part as I try to catch her eyes for a second.
"Excuse me!" he reacts, his eyes widening as he approaches her desk.
"I'm nauseous," she breathes frantically. She keeps glancing over at Daniel's face, as he glares at her with a blank expression. She shakes her head, and I'm about to lean over to try and calm her down, but she gets off her chair and heads for the door before I get the chance to.
She runs out of the room, wiping the sweat from her forehead with her bruised wrist. The door closes after a few seconds, and the silence lingers in the air for a couple more seconds before a baffled Mr. Whicker walks back behind his teacher's desk.
"Despicable," he mumbles.
"To the females in the room; that kind of behavior is unacceptable. No discretion, no decency, no respect. Absolutely despicable," he speaks as he points towards the door where Nancy just escaped.
"I feel the need to remind you that manners are necessary for a female, and that they'll be tested on your exams," he warns us, and I notice Daniel's shoulders lowering.
This kind of reaction wouldn't be provoked if it was me who ran out. It's different because it's Nancy, the golden girl, the example in our grade. It's unheard of that she would act like this. But obviously, no one knows what has happened to her.
"As you know, the lower your score, the lower the chance of being claimed," he continues.
"Since some of you clearly don't recognize the severity of the ceremony, I'll remind you what happens to females who aren't claimed," he rants. I see the empty seat beside me, and I can't shake the feeling that the Nancy that was... Isn't anymore.
"Females who are not claimed during their ceremony..." he jeers, causing me to take a deep breath. All of the other students turn towards the head of the class again, and I prepare myself to be reminded of the consequence of not being good enough.
"Will have their each and every human right taken away from them."
author's note
Boom! Could you imagine if we lived like this? :(
Did you like this chapter? Hope you did!
Here's some Amelia character inspiration/aesthetic:
See you in the next one. All love, -Thea.