My eyes fly quickly away, back to straight ahead. I force my face blank as I slowly sip my water.
Did she see my smiling as Marie ran along the tables?
I force myself to take slow breaths through my nose. It’s most likely just my imagination. The Official was probably looking at someone behind me, or looking at no one at all. Maybe she wasn’t even paying attention to what she was looking at, lost in her own thoughts.
I dismiss my previous idea almost immediately. Officials are always paying attention to what they are doing. They are never unaware or caught off guard.
Morning Meal ends with the Teaching Bell ringing from the walls. I obediently carry my tray over to the conveyor belt that takes away our dishes. I place it on there and follow the flow of the crowd to my first Teaching, History Lecture.
I slip into the correct row and sit on the chair with my number printed across it. My eyes land on a sit several rows in front of me, the only seat that isn’t filled. Seat 242. Marie’s.
Tomorrow we’ll all be shifted over one seat, completely covering up the fact that Marie ever existed. Her number will disappear from every surface it was ever on.
There’s a huge stage directly in front of us, but most of the time a giant screen dominates the room. We normally watch an informative video on what the old world was like, before the gracious Windsors saved us.
It’s always the same story. The world was already going downhill. Humans put too much dependence on things they couldn’t control, oil specifically. Eventually, the Disease came along, slowly killing everyone.
The Heads built this Complex to keep us safe from the Disease, taking thousands of uninfected kids in to save. The Heads, singlehandedly, saved the human race.
I don’t know if I really believe it. The Heads seem too strict and cruel to selflessly use their precious money to save us all. They probably only do it for the power or the joy of terrifying us all.
My heart starts beating faster after I spot the same Official who was staring at me earlier today, directly to the left of the screen.
She’s staring at me again. Our eyes meet, my muscles tensing up. She shows no emotion, her eyes drilling into me. Then, she looks away first, her eyes traveling down the rows of seats.
The whole scene only lasts a couple seconds. Why did she look away first? That’s a sign of weakness and surrender, something Officials never show.
I spend the rest of the day, worry and fear eating away at my stomach. The Official seems to be in every Teaching, always making eye contact with me at least once.
I walk slowly back from Free Hour, trying to figure out whether I should be worried or not. Will I be dragged away tonight to the Unknown?
I change into my night clothes as the door slams shut. With shaking hands I crawl into bed and await sleep.
It doesn’t come.
My heart beats too fast, my pulse pounding through my ears. I fidget, my hands folding and unfolding themselves.
I freeze as the door slides open. I close my eyes, pretending to be asleep, but not before I catch a glimpse of a silhouette of an Official standing in the doorway.
I hear the door close again. Did the Official leave?
A footstep echoes inside my room.
A flashlight blinks on and shines brightly against my eyelids, turning them a bright red. I struggle to keep them closed. I pretend to sleepily roll over on to my side, away from the light.
The footsteps move to the other side of the room, the light beam moving with it. Judging from the noise, the Official is standing by Lillie’s bed.
I hear a muffled groan from Lillie. Then a startled, “What’s going on?”
The Official soothingly answers, “Shhh…it’s okay. You won’t remember any of this anyway. Just close your eyes. You’ll feel a slight pinch on the inside of the elbow.”
Lilia sleepily answers, her voice becoming more tired and weary with every word, “Ow…I don’t want to go to sleep. Why are you here? Maybe I do want to sleep, I’m…suddenly…really…tired…maybe….I’ll…”
The Official’s footsteps once again come closer.
I continue the fake sleeping, even though my heart is pounding out of my chest. What’s happening?
The Official’s voice rings out in the silence, “I know you’re not sleeping.”
I keep my eyes closed, my back still facing the Official. I take slow, steady deep breaths.
The Official just sounds irritated, “Seriously? You’re horrible at fake sleeping. You obviously need some lessons.”
My eyes flicker open at her comments, but she can’t see from her position. This isn’t the way Officials talk.
The Official groans, “Just give me your arm, or I’m going to have to take it by force. Believe me, you don’t want me to do that.”
I stubbornly stay completely still.
The Official counts, “Five…four…three…”
I roll on to my back and hold out my arm, my eyes still closed. I’m dreading the thought that the Official might be the same Official that was watching me today. I’m terrified that I might be right. I’d rather not know.
“I’m going to give you this shot, I suppose you’ve gotten it before?”
I open my eyes to slits, glancing at the vial of liquid clutched between her fingers. It’s a bright red, I’ve seen it before. I’m not exactly sure what it does, but it has been injected in me before.
“Well?” She asks.
I hesitantly nod. Doesn’t she know whether I got the shot before? Why does she care? Why can’t she just put the shot in my arm so we can get this over with?
The crook of my elbow chills. I remember from a time back that she must be wiping it off with a cotton cloth. She’s probably now preparing the needle.
After a couple seconds, I feel a sharp pinch on the inside of my elbow. I still force my face to remain emotionless, my eyes closed.
“Open your eyes.”
I don’t respond, keeping them shut tight.
“Come on, don’t be stubborn.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
I roll my eyes beneath my eyelids before opening them. I figure it’s the best choice to obey an Official.
My heart sinks, while picking up the pace even faster. It’s the same Official who was watching me today.
My eyes slip to the empty shot vial that’s gripped in her hand. She watches me intently. Was the shot supposed to do something? They never seem to have any effect, at least not one that I’ve noticed. They must be some type of vaccination against something.
After a minute or so has past of the uncomfortable staring, the Official grins.
She asks, “Do you remember that girl today who ran from Officials?”
I know we aren’t supposed to talk about people who get sent to the Unknown. If I mention that I do remember her, is that the wrong answer? I simply meet the Official’s question with silence. I don’t want to give the wrong answer, so I give no answer at all.
The Official tilts her head, earnestly asking, “No, seriously, do you remember her?”
I shrug, “I guess. It only happened today at Mid-day Meal, why would I forget?”
The Official’s smile gets even wider, “And what happened?”
I slowly answer her question, “She ran along on the tables and kicked off girl’s bowls of oatmeal…”
She quickly changes topic, “Are you feeling tired at all? Exhausted? Faint? Dizzy?”
I hesitantly shake my head, “Uh, no, I guess not. I’m a little tired, but it’s kind-of late at night.”
The Official backs away from my bed, “It was lovely meeting you, Claire, I’ll be seeing you again.”
What does she mean by ‘seeing me again’? Is she taking me away?
I find it unsettling how she uses my personal name, not my Complex number.
The Official moves towards the door, the mysterious smile still plastered across her face.
Lillie’s reaction to the shot was a lot different than mine. She fell asleep almost immediately, mid-sentence. I don’t feel the slightest bit tired. Maybe it’s just because she was still half-asleep when she got the shot.
The Official shines the light beam in my face once more, causing me to squint at her. I want to close my eyes against the harsh brightness, but don’t want to seem weak.
I stare brazenly back at her.
She clicks off the light, darkness encompassing the entire room. I can see nothing in the sudden light change.
She whispers into the dark, “When we meet up again, which we will, you should know that my name is Bridget.”