------- ELAIA -------
It's Saturday, and that means I have to spend six hours at the camp today. Every girl should always put others before herself, so we're all required to volunteer once a week. At least, until we're married.
I don't mind volunteering. Partly because it means that I'll spend the day out of the house, and I'll get to see my friends. And I might even get to see Kreston today.
I take my time getting ready, making sure there isn't a wrinkle in my skirt, and that every blond curl is perfectly in place. I'm wearing a pale yellow dress since I know yellow is Kreston's favorite color. I paint my lips with pale pink and add a little bit of blush to my cheeks. Mother always says to keep my makeup simple and feminine.
Once I've inspected my appearance for the umpteenth time I turn and head downstairs to help Mother prepare breakfast.
"Good morning, my dear Elaia," she greets, looking as elegant as always in a pale blue gown with her soft blond curls pinned back.
"Good morning, Mother," I reply as I begin to cut the fruit and cook the oatmeal that she and I will be eating, while Mother cooks the eggs and sausage for Father and my brothers. And the pancakes. Mother and I are only allowed sweets on special occasions. It's important for us girls to watch what we eat, since it's easier for us to gain weight.
"Did you sleep well?" Mother asks.
I nod. "I did. I'm looking forward to volunteering today," I tell her.
She smiles softly. "That's good, dear. I think I hear the boys in the dining room," she says, as she finishes making up their plates of food. She sets them on a big serving platter.
"Bring the coffee," Mother instructs as she hoists the tray and I do as I'm told, following her into the dining room where my father is seated at the head of the table, and my four brothers seated next to him, two on either side of him. Mother sets Father's plate down first, giving him a kiss on the cheek as she does.
"Good morning, my dear," Father greets her with a smile as he sets his tablet off to the side. Once mother has set each of my brother's plates down, I pour the coffee, serving Father first.
"Good morning, Elaia," he greets, nodding thanks as I finish pouring his coffee.
"Good morning, Father," I reply, giving him a soft smile. I pour the coffee for my brothers and return to the kitchen, where Mother has already made up our bowls of oatmeal and fruit, and a cup of tea for each of us. We join the rest of the family at the dining table. Mother and I eat in silence while listening as Father talks about the news with my brothers. I love listening to their conversations, even if I don't understand most of what they talk about.
But sometimes I imagine that I do understand, and that I'm able to talk with them about things like business and politics. Sometimes they talk about the camps, and since I volunteer there, I do understand those conversations. But interrupting the men would be improper and disrespectful. Father mentions my volunteer work and Talin sneers.
"I can't imagine having to speak to those disgusting queers," he says, taking a bite of his pancakes. Disgusting. They might be misguided, but the people at the camps are my friends. They're not disgusting.
Anger bubbles up inside of me and I fight it back. I don't have any real reason to be angry. That's what Mother always says. But somewhere deep inside of me, I know that's not true. What is happening to me?
"Your sister does good work," Father says calmly, sipping at his coffee. "Those people are broken, and she helps them," he says. I sigh with relief. At least Father understands.
"Yeah, but they're freaks," Laurent chimes in with a laugh. They're not freaks.
"Freaks that choose to ignore the natural order of all life," Greyson adds. He laughs too. No. They aren't freaks.
Talin joins in laughing with the others, and shortly after that Arthur starts laughing with them. And then, my father joins in. Something dark and angry builds inside of me, getting stronger with each laugh, until I can't take it anymore.
"They're not freaks!" My words shock me just as much as they shock the rest of my family. Father stares at me from across the table, and I can see the disapproval in his eyes. My brothers all grow quiet. Minutes tick by in tense silence. Nobody knows what to do. I've never corrected them before. I've never spoken out of turn.
"Elaia," Mother begins gently. "Apologize to your father and brothers." I meet her gaze, seeing the urgency in her blue eyes. She's stricken with shock and shame.
I know that I should apologize. I was in the wrong. I interrupted their conversation, and I've never done anything like this in my life. I owe my family an apology. But a small voice in the back of my mind is telling me not to. That I don't owe them anything. They insulted my friends.
"Elaia," Mother calls again, urgency lacing her words.
Finally, I cast my gaze to my half-eaten breakfast. "I should not have spoken out of turn and I shouldn't have corrected you. It is not my place, and I am deeply sorry for behaving in such an ill manner. Please forgive me."
"You are forgiven," Father replies gently. Things seem to go back to normal, but I catch the concerned look that flashes across my father's features. And I know that I've broken his trust, if even just a little. What have I done? Rebellious girls don't end up happy. They don't get married. They get sent in for re-education. And if they can't be cured? Nobody really knows what happens to them.
When breakfast is over Mother retreats to the kitchen to clean the dishes, and my father and brothers all get up from their seats, but I stay seated in the dining room for a long time, wondering what just happened. I know I shouldn't have spoken up, but I can't fight the feeling inside of me that I did the right thing. And all I can do is wonder what's wrong with me.
-------
When I arrive at the camp, security checks my badge and ushers me through the gates, past the tall concrete walls that surround the parameter of the camp. Ahead, there is an enormous concrete building with great big windows and a domed roof. This building looks nothing like the rest of the structures in the city. Those buildings are tall, with pristine white exteriors and shimmering windows. This building is discolored and grimy, and it looks like it's been left over from another period in time. There are big grey clouds overhead, which only make the camp look even more gloomy.
Inside, the Director of the camp smiles wide when he sees me. "Good morning, Elaia!" he greets cheerfully.
"Good morning, Director," I return, curstying to him.
"I'm glad you're here today," he says as he starts down the hall, gesturing for me to follow. I do, keep exactly three feet behind him. "We have a new arrival," the Director explains as we walk. "He's been quite difficult, but I have no doubt that you'll be able to bring him around," he says, smiling down at me.
"Thank you. I'll do my best," I tell him as we turn down a long corridor, lined with steel doors. There's a small window set in each, and the occasional guard passes by. We exit the corridor through the door on the other side and into another corridor that leads to a series of visitation rooms. The Director punches in a code, opening the door to one of the rooms.
"I'll be back in one hour," he tells me and I nod thanks to him before stepping into the room. The Director shuts the door behind me and I take in my surroundings. The walls are all concrete, less dingy than the ones outside, but still dingy. There are big lights set in the ceiling and a glass partition, dividing the room. There is a counter and a chair on either side of the glass wall, but there isn't anyone sitting in the chair on the other side. I frown, scanning the room until my eyes fall on a young man huddled in the corner, dressed in grey scrubs. He's probably around my age with dark, wild hair and tan skin that's littered with freckles.
"Good morning," I greet cheerfully, taking the seat on my side of the glass.
"Go away," the boy replies, his voice raspy and nasaline.
"I'm afraid I won't be leaving for an hour," I tell him, clasping my hands in my lap as I wait for him.
"Then leave me alone," he spits, and it's like he's trying to huddle further into the corner.
"Please come talk to me. I'm only here to help you," I tell him gently.
"No, you're here to brainwash me and 'convert' me," he mocks, his tone dripping with venom.
I decide to try a different approach. "My name is Elaia, what is yours?" I ask him, waiting patiently.
He lets out a strained laugh. "As if I'd tell you."
"Please, I'm only here to help you," I say. "If you don't get better you'll never get out," I try to reason. I'm about to say something more but he whirls on me, his brown eyes bloodshot and filled with rage. "I'm not sick. Don't you dare tell me I'm sick!" He says through gritted teeth. He's so close now, with only the glass to separate us.
I shrink away from him, terrified. "That's not what I was going to say," I tell him, my words barely a whisper.
He stops, noticing that he's frightened me and he sighs. "I'm sorry," he says quietly, falling into the chair on his side of the glass. We stare at each other for a long time. He's got a big nose, thick black lashes, bushy eyebrows and full lips. His dark curls spring out in every direction. There's a kind quality in his eyes that draws me to him. Finally, he speaks.
"I'm Valas."
"Elaia," I reply with a smile. "It's nice to meet you."
"Same," he replies. "So, they sent you here to talk to me, huh?" He asks. "Do you work here?"
"Actually, I volunteer here every Saturday," I tell him, a bit of pride slipping into my tone.
Valas lets out a cynical laugh. "Ah, you're one of those," he says, cruelly.
I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. "I don't know what you mean," I say, suddenly feeling foolish.
"You're doing your good deed for the day. You think I'm sick, and that you can cure me," he snaps, throwing his hands out. "And you come here and volunteer to help purge the land of the 'great, dark evil' that is homosexuality."
"Every girl is supposed to volunteer," I reply quietly, trying to fight back my tears. No man has ever been this cruel to me before.
Valas furrows his brow. "Wait. They make you come here?" He asks, leaning forward in his chair.
I wipe at a stray tear, nodding. "Yes, they do," I reply.
"They force girls to do their dirty work," Valas says in realization.
"Oh, but I don't mind," I add quickly. "It's the only way I get to speak with others, outside of my family and a few friends."
"Those fucking bastards," he whispers, slamming his fist against the counter. "First they put me in a room with a girl, and now they're sending a girl to talk to me," he goes on, not really talking to me. "This is fucking bullshit!" He spits, the rage returning to his eyes.
"Please don't use those harsh words in front of me," I ask calmly.
"You don't swear?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow at me. I stare at him like he's crazy.
"Girls aren't allowed to swear," I reply, as if he should have known that. Valas' eyes grow wide, like everything suddenly makes sense to him.
"Shit. Sorry," he immediately apologizes. "It's a nasty habbit. I'll try not to swear in front of you," he says.
I nod. "Thank you," I tell him.
"We're in the city, aren't we?" Valas asks. I nod, surprised that he didn't know that already. My eyes fall to the small inverted triangle tattooed on his left forearm in white ink. Triangles are illegal. Then it hits me, and everything he's said makes sense.
"You're not from the city, are you?" I ask. He shakes his head. "I'm not. My sister and I were raised in a small refugee town hundreds of miles from the city," he says. As he talks he seems to get further away from me, like he's reliving a vivid memory. "A few days ago, hunters came and raided our city. We ran as fast as we could," he continues, tears welling up in his eyes. This confuses me because men don't cry. It must be part of his illness.
"The last thing I remember, I felt a sharp prick in my neck and then everything went dark. When I came to I was strapped to a table and different people came to talk to me as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I remember a doctor hovering over me, giving me several shots and then I fell into the darkness again. When I woke up, a different man was standing over me, telling me that I was sick and that they were going to make me better, and the next time I woke I was in a small cell, with a female roommate who refused to talk to me," he says, wiping the tears from his eyes.
I've never spoken to anyone from outside the city before. I don't know how to react. So I just smile at him. "Everything is going to be alright," I assure him.
Valas shakes his head, anger ridden across his features. "No. It won't be okay. They're going to keep me locked up inside this concrete box until I decide that I actually do like women," he mocks, staring at me with so much intensity that I can't help but back away.
"And my sister?" Valas says, saliva dripping from his lips. "She's probably stuck in a similar concrete box, being brainwashed into thinking the only thing she's good for is pleasing a man!" He snaps, flying into a mad rage. He gets up from his chair, knocking it to the ground. He lets out a deep, guttural cry, so wild and crazed that it's almost not human. He throws himself at the glass and I back away, falling from my seat to the floor. Security guards come rushing into both sides of the room. They struggle Valas to the ground as he screams and thrashes violently, cursing at them and calling them awful names and things I've never heard before. The guards sedate him while one of the guards on my side of the room helps me up. I thank him absently, watching as they carry him out of the room.
"Are you alright, Elaia?" The Director asks me, entering the room. He stops in front of me, staring down at me, his green eyes filled with concern.
I turn to him, nodding. "Yes, I'll be okay," I tell him, but I can't stop replaying visions of Valas' crazed outbursts in my head. I've never met someone so violent before. He said he wasn't sick, but I've always been told the people at the camp are ill and we help them get better. And I've always believed it.
But after the incident at breakfast this morning, and after meeting Valas, I'm beginning to wonder if that's true.
------- Author's Note -------
Hello there, my dear readers! I hope you're still enjoying We Are Wildflowers! What do you think is going to happen next? Let me know in the comments below! I'd love to here your thoughts! If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider clicking that little star button! Thanks for reading, Loves!
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M I R A N D A