The screen flickers and the hologram reloads my Teaching material. I force myself to begin typing my spelling words again, to avoid the suspicion of the Officials.
Now that the daring moment is over, I begin to second guess my actions. What if an Official traces the messages? Why didn’t I just ignore it, like any other logical girl would have done?
Did my curiosity just seal my fate?
I spend the rest of Spelling Teaching worrying over my future while absentmindedly typing in the words, getting almost every single one of them wrong.
˚˚°˚˚
Lillie glances at me during Free Hour, a stand of her plain brown hair falling out of her braid and slipping in front of her eyes, “Are you okay, Claire?”
She worriedly asks me while tucking the strand behind her ear, revealing her dull, blue eyes.
I smile brightly at her, “Oh yeah, I’m fine. I’m just wondering how the Heads could be so gracious to us.”
Lillie nods, falling silent in her own thoughts. We don’t have too much conversation between the two of us. Ever since our third roommate was taken away by the Officials and hauled to the Unknown, we’ve both formed a wall of hesitation and unfamiliarity between the two of us. Our forth roommate was taken away when we were only six years.
My thoughts shift back to my third roommate. She was taken a year and a half ago, without any warning. She had, in the middle of Inspection, started singing a tune from Music Hour. It was supposed to be a song exalting the Heads, but she switched every positive word to a negative one.
She screamed it at the top of her lungs.
She was quickly silenced by an Official and dragged quickly away. I’ve never seen or heard from her again.
Lillie breaks the silence, “Are you sure you’re okay? You look more anxious than normal.”
I quickly wipe my face of any emotion. If Lillie is noticing differences about me, are the Officials?
I repaint the smile on my face, making sure it stays there this time, “Of course, I was just thinking about the professions that we are going to be getting soon.”
Lillie’s eyes widen, “Oh, I can understand why you’re anxious then. Next year, right? Our Graduation Day is just in a couple weeks, and then we’ll be testing for our professions. I have no idea what kind of Official I want to train to be for my future.”
I nod, glad she’s accepted my lie. “I have no idea what it’s going to be like.”
“Yeah,” Lillie agrees.
Our conversation once again quiets.
I survey the room around me, remembering what Marie said about ‘noticing the small things’. My eyes slide past the dull, curving steel walls, forcing us to walk around in a big circle for Free Hour.
Free Hour is another lovely activity that the Heads force us to do. I guess we need exercise to keep our bodies healthy and this is the easiest way for the Heads to do it. They even let us talk to our roommates, as long as our voices are at a nice, soft, controlled volume. Of course, we can’t talk about anything we want to. We have to discuss any topic from the small range that they give us. It’s what you’d expect: what we learn in Teachings, honor to the Heads, and that’s pretty much it. If you are caught discussing something else, it’s the Unknown for you.
Lillie and I discuss the same, dull topics every day. By now, we’ve discuss anything that could be said about the topics, causing the lull in conversations.
The Teaching Bell rings after Free Hour is over, echoing through the room. We file on to escalators that slowly descend back to the main floors. We navigate through the same halls we’ve lived our whole lives, back to the Sleeping Rooms I’ve stayed in ever since I can remember.
I slip inside a small room, two bunks pressed against opposite walls. A dresser is pressed to the far back wall. I stride to the dresser, quickly grab my night clothes, and change. After only five minutes, the door clangs shut. I hear the click of the lock sliding in place. I stumble to my bunk, sidestepping Lillie.
I lie down on my thin mattress, pulling the scratchy sheet up to my chin. Lillie does the same on the opposite side. Three minutes after the door slammed shut the lights shut off, plunging us into stifling darkness.
I force myself to take deep, calming breaths and to clear my mind. I slowly drift off to sleep.
˚˚°˚˚
I groan inwardly as the Waking Bell buzzes from the walls. I sit up immediately even though my eyes beg to be reclosed. I wearily stagger to the dresser, grab my day clothes, and slip out of the door to my room. The hallway is filled with tired stumbling girls. We’re all headed to our Renewals.
Renewals are supposed to make us all look equal to each other. You can’t have harmonious similarity without surface equality. But, the truth is, we don’t look equal. Even though they drench us in soaking water, powder us with makeup, tightly braid back our hair, and paint our lips with gloss, we don’t look equal. Not really.
But we pretend that we do because they tell us to.
I’ve always hated my Renewal Official. Her dark brown eyes are always full of disapproval and she clucks her tongue critically while doing my make-up. As if I’m not good enough. As if it’s my fault for how I look.
When my Renewal is done, I march to the Eating Hall to get my tasteless oatmeal. My braid is always too tight, like my skin is being stretched across my skull.
I punch my finger to the scanner, watching the green bar go smoothly up and down. An Official brings me my food only seconds later. I balance my tray in my hands, and walk, attempting to seem unsuspicious to my table, taking a slight detour.
I pass the stool where 242 should be sitting. 241 is empty, but 242 is taken. The girl disdainfully flips her midnight black braid over her shoulder, eyeing me with her startling, piercing cloudy grey eyes.
I make sure that I continue striding forward, even though I want to stop and ask her millions of questions. This must be Marie.
Her eyes scan over my face before the side of her mouth twitches slightly up in a crooked smile. It disappears the second it emerges, her face turning back into the perfect mask.
I slip past, my eyes returning to straight ahead. I plop down on my seat, Lillie already seated. I distractedly spoon my oatmeal into my mouth, my head pounding.
From the position of my seat, I’m facing her three tables away. She’s several seats down on my left side, but far away enough that I can watch her without turning my head.
She looks and acts just like everyone else. Her actions calm, her expression blank. I wouldn’t be able to tell whether she’s loyal or not just by watching her.
How could she tell that I wasn’t loyal just by watching me?
When I’m scraping the last few bits of my oatmeal out of my bowl, Marie abruptly stands up. Everyone’s heads snap to look at her, even though she hasn’t said a single word yet. The sudden movement foreign in the calm environment.
Marie scales her stool and hopes on to the table. She shouts, “I would like everyone’s attention.”
She already has it and seems to realize it. Officials are already hurriedly striding her way.
Why is she doing this? She wanted to be remembered. Does she understand that people probably won’t remember her? They’ll most likely forget her face along with all the other foolish rebels who fearlessly throw themselves against the Officials.
Marie sees the oncoming Officials, “My name is Marie. I want you to know that we don’t have to put up with this. We can fight back. These people have no right to be forcing us to be all identical.”
The Officials reach her, grasping at her arms. Marie ducks out of the way, running wildly on top of the table. Her arms straight out for balance, she begins kicking the bowls of oatmeal off the table as she sprints along. The bowls scatter. They plop into girls’ laps or shatter to pieces on the floor. The oatmeal sticks to every surface.
I can’t help but let a small smile tip up the corners of my mouth. I have no worry of getting caught. Every single Official here has their attention focused on capturing Marie.
Marie lets out a wild laugh, “Try and control me now. You too can fight back. It’s just this simple.”
What these bold, reckless girls don’t understand is that they are approaching it the wrong way. They can’t openly disobey, screaming and yelling at the Officials. They only are taken away, quickly slipping from our minds.
Two Officials climb on to the table, chasing after her. Another two Officials wait at the end, ready to trap her.
Marie realizes her problem and takes a wild jump off the table, clearing the frightened girl’s head that sits below. She doesn’t make it far before the nearest Official tackles her. Marie’s chin slams to the ground first, the rest of her body following her.
Marie shouts out, “That’s right. Silence those who speak the truth.”
The Officials have it easy. Whoever disagrees with them, they can simply get rid of. They have no type of threatening competition whatsoever.
The Official clamps her hand over Marie’s mouth, making Marie even more outraged. I watch Marie sink her teeth into the Official’s hand. The Official doesn’t react, instead she pulls a thin shot out of her pocket. It glistens a dark green as it catches the light.
The pointed needle is jabbed into Marie’s arm. Marie falls immediately still. The Officials drag her slowly away.
We all dutifully go back to eating our oatmeal as though nothing has happened. Thinking back on Marie’s moment of excitement, I struggle to keep a grin off my face.
My eyes absentmindedly scan the people in front of me. I freeze, my mouth slackening.
An Official stares directly and undoubtedly at me.