Chapter one

I’ve always had strange dreams but I never knew they would play such an important role in my life, that they would represent who I was, an outcast, a piece of litter. If it wasn’t for those dreams, my name wouldn’t be Emberlyn, I wouldn’t have such a mysterious past, I would know all about myself. But I don’t.

 

It was when I was walking home from school that I realized there was something wrong. Everything was normal: Laura was chatting beside me; the traffic was zooming around and the rare trees were scattered with litter instead of leaves. This was where I belonged, where I knew everything was alright. We were walking gently along the path, grinning, blowing bubblegum and singing along to Laura’s iPod, when I heard a loud ‘woosh’ noise and bang, I was out cold.

 

When I came to, Laura was gone �" so was her iPod. I was sat in a hospital, whimpering and slithering further into the plastic seat, wanting to get away from the world. The next day, in the newspaper, the following headline blurted out at me from the front page: THE INSTITUE �" WIPING OUT OUR WORLD’S HUMAN LITTER. I knew what it was about. My mum had always warned me about The Institute, ever since I started having weird dreams; they would take away people who they thought ruined the world’s environment for others and stuff them in some Institution somewhere. I knew at once what had happened �" they had Laura.

 

I was crying for ages. I was in panic and I had endless fits. Mum thought there was something really wrong with me, but I know it was just fear at what had happened to my best friend. That night, I drifted into a dream, the sort people just don’t experience, the weird, abnormal, yet strangely realistic dreams.

 

In this dream, I was walking along the road, yet I was stood beside myself. I looked around and found that I was in Laura’s position. I was over the moon, I could see her again, even though it was in a dream. I heard a familiar ‘woosh’ and screamed, I knew what was coming. Running along the road, I tripped and felt rough, heavy hands grasp my shoulders and heard a voice say Well done lads, this one might be useful… very strong signals. I was freaking out then, but everything blurred out anyway, and I fell into another situation. I was sat at a desk being told about witches. Wait, witches? What on earth? And Laura was beside me. Looking down, I saw that it was me. I was there. But why?

 

That dream stayed with me for ages. One year later, I was walking along the street on my own. Lonely, sad, and generally miserable, the speedy traffic was at the back of my mind, at that moment I was thinking only of what I would do when I got home �" all my homework was done, and the only thing I could do was read books and make some dinner, maybe catch up with my Mum too. I never really saw her, she was worrying all the time and kept muttering to herself about candidates and nonsense. I got used to her after a while, but I did notice her advice about going out grew stronger, and she would panic every time I had a strange dream. I guess I got used to that as well.

 

When I eventually got home, my Mum was waiting at the door, looking nervous but attempting a smile. She pushed her blonde curls out of her eyes and bustled me inside. That was one thing I must have inherited from my Dad, my dark, heavily ringlet hair. I don’t know what happened to my Dad, I’ve never met him. My Mum snapped at me to get changed, and I ran upstairs and pulled on some baggy jeans and old top. For good measure, I brushed through my hair and dragged it into a rough ponytail. At least I looked fresher than I did in the morning. Rushing back downstairs, I wandered into the kitchen, the peeling green door swung back in my face, and I pulled myself together and walked through. My Mum was sat at the dinner table, her hands clutched around her mug of tea and her dressing gown draped over her jeans and top, similar to mine.

“Emberlyn darling. Come here.” I obeyed. “How was your day?”

“Umm… alright, you should have heard Mrs. Harding in Spanish! I could have killed her!”

“Did you get detention Emberlyn?”

“Nope. Chloe did though, poor girl.”

“Oh. Would you like some tea?”

“OK. How was your day Mum?”

“Like yours, alright.” There was an awkward silence, broken only by slurps of tea and then, “Emberlyn darling, did you have one of those dreams again yesterday? You know?”

“Yeah. Yeah I did.”

“What was it about?”

“Well, Laura was there, and so was this boy, and we were being talked to by this bloke. He looked like an army officer, but I don’t know.”

“Right. OK. Emberlyn, I need to tell you: You know all about The Institute don’t you.”

“Yeah, you’ve told me loads.”

“Well, they came here this afternoon, and they said, well they said,”

“What did they say to you Mum?” She told me. I burst into tears again.

 

I remember that night very clearly. I packed carefully, avoiding items that would attract attention, going for dark, shabby, grey clothing. The sort of stuff you become invisible in, where no-one sees you. My Mum had said that if I don’t get taken by The Institute, they’ll take away all her rights and the house. At first I resisted. But eventually I realized that they could. They could do it, and they would if I didn’t walk into their building in the morning and sign a single piece of paper. I would have to go to The Institution outside Dublin. All I know about the place is that it is modern, retro, funky, but mysterious. No-one comes out. No-one goes in apart from the milkman, and even he has to take a special route around the back so he sees nothing in the actual building. I didn’t even know why I was going, why they wanted me, not until I walked in.

 

It was about four o’clock in the morning when I dragged myself out of bed and pulled on some decently plain, simple clothes. I did the best I could with my hair, giving myself plaits and dark blue ribbons. I scrubbed my face, brushed my teeth twice, checked my bag and stood waiting at the door. Sure enough, the doorbell rang at five.

“Hello there.” It was a very big, very scary man. He took up the doorframe space with his broad shoulders.

“Hello.” It came out as a squeak, escaping from my lips as he took my suitcase.

“Name?”

“Emberlyn.”

“Emberlyn? Just Emberlyn?”

“Yeah. I mean no. Emberlyn Rose Flint.”

“Flint?” He looked generally shocked.
“Yeah.”

“Ah, can’t be. It’s not. You know why you goin’?”

“No.”

“What? You ain’ know why? You a new little candidate ain’ you!”

“Candidate?”

“Yeah, one of ‘em Clairvoyance Candidates. ‘Em ones with ‘em little grey uniforms and all the best nosh. You a lucky one ain’ you!” Suddenly, everything was clear. My dreams. Everything,

“You mean…”

“I know what I means love, and what I means is that you’re a little Clairvoyant girl ain’ you! You can tell the future can’t you! Hey, I know who’ll be happy to see you! There’s this gal we got, ‘bout a year back now, and she’s been a waiting for a gal the same age as her to come along for ages, and here you are! Little red-haired kid. Literally red. Laura I think her name is. Yeah. Laura. She’ll like you.”

“Laura.” My mind went blank, everything other than her name. I would see her again!

“Hey, you. You get in this van, yeah, in the back, with that little kid. Yeah right there. You’ll be there ‘bout half an hour, stay safe.” He slammed the van door in my face, and about a minute later the engine started. Down the road we went. Leaving my Mum for good.

 

“Hello.” This shy voice yanked me out of my daydream. It was the mousy boy in the corner, crumpled and sleepy.

“Hello. What’s your name?”

“Ryan.”

“Hello then Ryan. I’m Emberlyn. How long have you been here?”

“Emberlyn. ‘bout two hours. That man in front got a phone call and had to take a detour get you and Emleh.”

“Emleh?”

“There. She’s tiny. Don’t know why they got her.” I looked into the other corner of the van and there, curled tightly in a ball, was the prettiest girl I have ever seen. Proper, natural beauty. Her hair was in brown ringlets and gently rested against her pale skin. Her eyes were wide and perfect sea-blue. She was wearing similar clothes to me, and looked about ten years old.

“You can shut up Ryan. I know why they need me. You don’t. You. Do you know why they have us?”

“Yes.” My voice was a whisper.

“Tell me. I think I know, but I can’t be sure.” I told them what I knew about The Institute, and The Institution. Emleh’s eyes widened, and she carefully, slowly released herself and sat upright.

“Thought so. I’ve always had those dreams before. How did they get you? Did they knock you out or chase you or what?”

“They didn’t do anything. I handed myself over.”

“What?” Both Emleh and Ryan said simultaneously.

“Yes. I had to. They were going to take away my Mum, the house, her rights. Everything. I would die if I didn’t come. I had to.” Emleh was obviously a very curious person, as she continued to ask me questions about my life, what it had been like to not have a Dad, what it was like when Laura was taken. Laura, my best friend Laura, who I would see again that day, or most hopefully sometime this week at least. I was hysterical, bubbling and overly-excited, even though I knew I should be sad and scared, especially after what my Mum had told me. Emleh continued to question me, Ryan to sit and listen in awe. Then, when they both stopped talking for a minute, I held my hand up and said “Shush, let’s listen.” Pointing at the slight gap splitting the driver and his friend from us. They understood immediately and after some shuffling and groaning, we were all in a position where we could hear them:

“How old is they all? I ain’ good with maths.”

“Hm, that boy is about 12 ain’ he? And that little devil girl is ‘bout ten, she looked it alright. And the one what handed herself in, she’s fourteen. I know she is. Boss told me.”

“Really? I thought he didn’ talk. He’s like, silent ain’ he. Never no speeches to the little ones, only focuses on the older ones, the ones what is nearly ready for swap right?”

“Yeah, but if you ain’ noticed, I is the Boss of the removal course ain’ I. He ‘as to talk to me ‘bout the kids don’t he.”

“I guess. Anyway, what’ll happen to that older girl. Won’t she be put straight into changin’ class?”

“Yeah, probably. She’ll be with people of her age and she’ll get on real fast, you know what I mean like… real fast.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

“I is always right mate.”

“And what’s with the little gal? she’s like, a bit to young ain’ she?”

“She is as well. Wonder why Boss told us to get ‘er. She ain’ got much signal yet ‘as she?”

“No. Weird huh? I think she isn’ like them others.”

“What’s her name?”

“Emma it sounded like. I think so. I dunno. She’s a little devil in any case, ‘cause she was kicking and spitting and trying to get away, but the sleeping stuff didn’ work did it.”

“No. Weird.” There was silence for a while, and eventually we decided to discuss what we’d heard. It went on for a while about me and the changing class, and then went on to Emleh’s nearly-but-not-quite escape. Eventually, we realized it was going to take much more than an hour, and both Ryan and Emleh drifted off into sleep. After watching their peaceful, serene faces for a while, I decided myself that I could do with some rest, and curled up the best I could, hid in my hair and I too fell into the mist of a dream.

 

“Emberlyn!” I heard a horrible shriek of my name echo through a strong glass board. ”Emberlyn, Laura! No! Not them!” I felt strong hands grip my shoulders, shaking me, pushing me. I resisted, shoving, spitting, clawing at the people. I didn’t know where I was or what was happening. “Emberlyn!” That shriek came again, and somehow I knew it was a boy. I faded away.

 

When I woke, I was gasping, crying and sweating, scared for what had happened. The dream had been full of a thick, dusty mist, so I knew it was a Clairvoyant dream. It had always happened before. I then realized I had no idea where I was. I sat up, banging my head on the ceiling, and realized I was in a bunk-bed. Looking down from where I was, I could see rows and rows of beds, each with two occupants, all girls, all fast asleep. The sheets were plain, dull but well cared for. I knew immediately where I was. The Institution.

 

As I looked about more closely, I could make out the shapes of books, stacked clothes and little shoes through the dim light.

“Ahem.” A voice made me jump, and I looked down with a start. A woman of about 50, with curly, slightly graying hair and battered, worn, but very gentle complexion. She smiled at me kindly, and motioned for me to come down from my bed. I slipped down without a sound, she smiled slightly in admiration and whispered.

“Get dressed, then meet me at the door.” She handed me some clothes and pointed down the row of beds to a small black door. As I dragged the little dress and tights on, I noticed they were the same colour as the sheets. The shoes were similar, grey, buckled and dull. I clamped the beret onto my hair as best I could, the ringlets springing it back off my head. I resolved to clip on the beret with a couple of slides. I checked my reflection in the window and tiptoed down to the door.

“Your name is Emberlyn, am I correct?”

“Yes Miss.”

“I’m sure you’ll be a good student.”

“Thank you Miss.”

“You know why you’re here?”
“Yes Miss. I’m a Clairvoyant aren’t I?”

“Yes, a Clairvoyant Candidate. You’ll learn how to channel your dreams, as well as your normal maths, English, you understand?”

“Yes Miss.”
‘Well then, here is your timetable. I shall see you at breakfast in the Grand Hall.” She pointed to a large, carved door at the end of the wide corridor before swiftly turning and gliding away, her feet invisible under her long night-gown. I had no idea how I was used to this old-fashioned style when I was a city girl, born and bred. I glanced around and decided to explore, as long as I kept in sight of that door. I grinned and wandered off.