Ch.1- Fracture

A Chapter by Amber Daniel

Bay’s life had become a routine. Wake up in the morning. Scrounge for food. Stay out of the way of the guards. Be inside by sundown.

A safe way to live.

Because the guards taught them that safe was good.

Safe meant you survive.

Bay pushed her way past the cluster of people that pressed against her as she made her way back home. It was midday, and everyone was heading back to their families from a day of back-breaking work. She knew it was a bad time to make a trip to the market, but she and her family were in desperate need of bread. She was able to snag the last loaf, but not without feeling slightly guilty. She knew all too well how hard it was to claim a simple loaf of bread. She also knew all too well how hard it was to go the night without food at all.

Clutching her meager prize between the crook of her arm, she quietly slipped through the crowd of people. Her long auburn hair fell into her blue eyes, annoying her. She gathered it up and tossed it over her shoulder, regretting not putting it up in a hair tie. Her small house wasn’t too far from the market, and it normally took her about ten minutes just to get there. Her glance slid to the side of the street, where the guards were stationed. They wore ash-grey uniforms with black combat boots. Each of them held a thin black club in one hand, a weapon they used if the citizens ever acted up. Bay despised them. They were sent by the government to keep the citizens inside the village, and they always made her feel uneasy.

A faint tug on her tattered coat made Bay stop in her tracks. She turned around to face a small boy who looked to be about four years old. His small fist was closed around her coat as he looked up at her. His eyes were big, a faint sparkle dancing within the irises. His round cheeks were smeared with dirt and his jet black hair was unkempt. His clothes were ragged and unwashed, baggily draped over his frail body. He looked starved.

Bay knelt down to the ground, smiling softly at the child. She hoped the little boy would smile back.

“What’s your name?” She asked kindly, tilting her head to the side.

“Max.” The little boy said, his big eyes sparkling.

“Are you hungry?”

Max nodded profusely, his black hair flapping over his forehead.

Bay smiled, tearing off a good portion of her bread. She extended it out to Max, who took it gratefully. The child had stuffed it into his mouth before he could say a word. She watched the boy as he devoured the small portion of bread, his tiny hands clutching his new found treasure.

“Thank you.” the boy mumbled, his mouth full.

Something about this boy reminded Bay of herself when she was that age. She wasn’t sure what it was. She rose, the boy watching her carefully.

Bay turned away, heading back to her home.

She walked a little faster when her inadequate home came into view. Pushing the door open, a wave of heat swept over her, and she knew her mother had lit the fire for dinner.

She presented her mother with her find, proudly setting the loaf of bread on the kitchen counter right under her nose.

She looked at her daughter, proud of her like always.

“This is perfect.” She didn’t even seem to notice a chunk of it was missing. She bent down, pressing a quick kiss on her forehead. Bay loved making her smile.

The citizens of Eden found it extremely hard to find a measly loaf of bread, or any kind of food for that matter.

Bay always smirked when she heard the word citizen. Bay felt more like a peasant. Peasants were poor. She knew this was harsh, but she felt like it was the truth.

Her village used to live up to its beautiful name. Before the war, it was indeed Eden. It was beautiful and lush and prosperous. There was plenty of food and everyone had a place to live. Everyone felt safe without being watched. The citizens could go wherever they pleased without having to fear the guards.

The day America fell was the day the beauty of Eden, along with all the other towns, no longer existed. They didn’t even used to call them villages. They were known as suburbs. People even used to live in giant clustered buildings that were called cities. Bay never knew such a place. The only place she ever knew, ever remembered, was her beautiful town of Eden. Poverty had now labeled it a village, no longer the garden of beauty.

No matter what tribulations this place went through, it was still her home.

Bay had never lived anywhere else but here. Even during the war, Eden stood untouched. It was only when their government fell when Eden was snuffed out like a flame.

Bay was only very small when America fell. Her father said that there used to be other countries south of theirs called Brazil, Columbia and Argentina. Now it was one country. A country that had crumbled. Now they were all one.

There was no name for her country. There was hardly anything left to claim. The war had left them all in ruins.

Bay was born into the war, growing up with violence and thinking it was normal. She thought safe meant being inside her home when the night guards started marching through the streets. Her father would tell her that in the old days, safety was much easier to come by. Safe meant not having to fear at all.

Bay was always fearful.

She became even more afraid when she found out what she could do.

Bay heard the door open, and she spun around to see her father enter the house. His ax was propped over his shoulder, the blade dull from a full day’s work.

Her father cut down trees for a living. Bay never really liked the idea of killing a living thing, but she supposed they didn’t have much of a choice. At least it put food on the table.

Her father was very tall, accompanied by a broad chest and strong shoulders. Bay wished she could be like her father, be strong like he was. But instead, she was small and frail, with weak shoulders and a small physique.

Her father propped the ax against the wall, then covered the length of the living room in two strides. He landed by his wife’s side, kissing her softly on the lips before turning to Bay.

“I got you something today.” She waited patiently as her father fished something from out of his coat pocket. He outstretched his arm, opening his hand. In his giant palm was a small treasure, wrapped in gold aluminum. It was a piece of chocolate.

With wide eyes, Bay reached out for the chocolate. She hadn’t had such a treat in years.

“How’d you find this?” She could only imagine what this had cost him.

Her father chuckled, watching his daughter. “You know I have my ways, baby.”

Bay couldn’t help but smile. She’d almost forgotten what chocolate tasted like.

“I’m going to save it.” She decided, closing her fingers around the tiny piece of chocolate.

~*~

The sun had made its way across the sky, settling on the horizon. It cast a golden shimmer across the sky, leaving just enough light so that Bay could see. She wanted to go to the woods again. It seemed to be the only place she could really think.

She settled in her usual spot, on the soft earth right underneath a tree. She was well hidden within the woodland, where no one could find her. She liked this spot.

Perfect place to practice.

Eyes falling on a perfectly sized rock, she outstretched her hand. Her palm held out towards the rock, she blocked out even the tiniest of distractions from her mind. Taking her lip between her teeth, she focused all of her attention on the object. The familiar tingling sensation buzzed through her fingertips.

The rock began to quiver.

As she concentrated, the small rock began to float. The familiar tingling sensation prickled at Bay’s fingertips, the stone now an inch off of the ground. The sensation in her fingertips grew to her fingers the higher the stone floated. That inch turned into a foot, and then it was eye level. It floated happily in the air, steadily rotating in front of her eyes.

Bay smiled.

Being seventeen was hard enough. The list could go on and on: not being taken seriously, adults not paying any attention, body going through awkward changes.

But in Bay’s case, a few more things had to be added to that list. She had to grow up in a world that had fallen under the grasp of poverty. Not only had America collapsed after the war ended, but a new kind of government rose to power. It was less like a government and more like a dictatorship. The citizens of America had become weak and helpless, unable to overthrow the new dictatorship. So this was the lifestyle Bay had to adapt to. But this wasn’t all she had to adapt to.

Bay was different than the rest. She’d figured this out when she was six years old. Bay wasn’t like the other children in Eden.

She had an ability.

She could lift things with her mind. With a single thought, she could make an object do whatever she willed it to.

She never told anyone, not even her parents. She didn’t know what that would lead to, but in no way could it lead to safety. No, she had to keep it a secret. For her parents’ sake. It was for the better.

She’d made it a habit to come to this particular spot in the woods whenever possible. She’d done this for years, practicing and experimenting with her gift.

A cruel voice in the back of her head always told her she was a freak. Bay only hoped this wasn’t true.

She let the rock fall to the ground, the sensation in her fingers fading away.

It was late enough, and she decided to go ahead and get inside before the night guards started marching. The sun was just peaking over the horizon, casting just enough rays so that she could find her way home. Pushing through the woods, she appeared out from behind the trees’ protection.

Entering her home, she found her mother and father sitting by the fire. Her mother was sitting in her rocking chair, slowly rocking back and forth. The chair was old, and it uttered creaking whispers with every rock.

Her father was sitting in his favorite chair, an old love chair that was worn to the bone. He had a pipe stuck between his lips, one of the few leisures they owned. If the guards found out her father owned such an item, terrible things could happen.

Bay floated up to her mother, placing herself behind her shoulder. She looked very tired, her blue eyes clouded with exhaustion. She looked over her shoulder at her daughter and smiled softly, asking her if she’d chopped some more fire wood earlier that day. She’d replied that she had.

“Bay.” her father beckoned, and she drifted to his side. “I need you to go to Mr. Johnson’s tomorrow and see if he has any leather left.” Various necessities that were once easy to find were no longer as conveniently available.

“Ok, daddy.” Bay hated how hard her father had to work, so she was glad to help whenever she could. When she was younger, she felt so helpless when she couldn’t help her father. She’d always ask him if she could help him chop wood or go hunting, but her father would never let her because she was too young. Bay nearly exploded with happiness the very first time her father invited her to go hunting with him. In Eden, it was a coming-of-age tradition for a child’s father to take him or her hunting for the first time. It was one of the most satisfying feelings in the world. It meant that the helpless little girl was now a strong woman.

Times were especially hard in Eden, but Bay was happy. She was used to working hard, so she didn’t think much of it.

Her world was just close of perfect, no matter how fractured it was.

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