Chapter One

The beginning of a story set in the future after a frightful religion takes over.

"Two girds please," the fruit dealer says, looking at me with tired green eyes. His head rests on a hairy, wiry hand that connects at a thin wrist to a scrawny arms. The hum of noise is slightly muffled by the bodies milling in the street and the piece of fabric overhead. I frown at the fruit I've put in my satchel. Two girds is a lot to ask for two apples and a bunch of tiny bananas. I glance once more at his eyes and see years of repetitive days in them. He sighs heavily as he waits for my response. I pity him, but not enough to pay two girds for what I'm buying.

"How does one gird and five rupes sound?" I ask, trying to put on a gruff voice.

The fruit dealer inhaled heavily, widening his eyes a little as if he would be able to find a better price that way. "One gird and eight rupes."

"Make it one gird and six rupes and it's a deal," I say. I almost want to give him the price he's asking for, but I can't afford it. I've only got two girds left.

"Look, kid," the fruit dealer says exasperatedly, "I've got a family to feed."

"Hell, me too," I say, leaning in closer to him. It's a slight lie. I don't exactly get this extra food for Father. The stink of the fruit dealer's cream tunic wafts into my nostrils. My heart catches a bit at the smell. Damn that thing. "You know my price is more than fair. The fruit I've got here isn't really quality fruit." To the left of me two women begin to closely examine the fruit in their hands a bit more carefully than before.

The fruit dealer gives a short laugh of disbelief. "What exactly are you trying to do, kid?" he whispers dangerously as he leans in closer to me. A glimmer of anger passes through his eyes. He thinks he has me beat, but it's too bad I know how to play this game and win. He's small so he won't fight and he's got no one to back him up. It's a game of intimidation.

"You've got a family to feed," I reply at a volume similar to his. "Take my offer or I'll chase away your customers."

The fruit dealer's nose and eyes scrunch up, his cheek twitches angrily. I smile at him briefly, narrowing my eyes. He's at a loss. He can't afford to not take my offer. Every customer he can get is important in this type of economy. "Fine," he agrees. I shuffle through my leather bag for my coin pouch. My fingers pick out the proper amount of money from the small amount I had managed to acquire. Now I'd only have four rupes left. Clinking as they make their descent, the coins land in the sun-browned hand of the fruit dealer.

"Have a nice day," I say as I walk out from the shade of the dealer's stand. My hands pull down my hat to cover my face more. It isn't good for me to be recognized. I cause too much trouble to be in good terms with the Officers both during the day and the night.

"Sure," the dealer says before calling out, "And get a haircut, kid!"

I smile to myself and don't respond. My ponytail gently taps the middle of my back as I swiftly walk away from the stall. I squint my eyes at the gleam of the sun coming off of the skyscrapers that surround me, hovercrafts whizzing 100 feet over my head. I nearly felt bad for swindling that man out of the money he needs, but Father had been buying more alcohol than food recently and Ellaby and I need nutrition. Smoke rolls out of a cooking stall, going into my lungs and clogging up my heart slightly. I silently curse the damn thing, asking it why it couldn't just take some smoke for once. It does fine while running and jumping and all those normal activities, although personally it could be better, but give it some smoke and oh, no, it'll start to sputter and have a tantrum.

The  smoke clears and I spot my favorite Officer: Officer Grey. S**t. And by the way he's gesturing come here with his white gloved index finger in my general direction, I can safely guess he sees me too. Nonetheless, I put on a stupid face, look around in the crowd for who he could possibly be looking for, then look at him and point to myself. Me? I mouth. His head lowers and his finger pulls in toward him like a snake twice more. I really did not want to see him today. Frowning, I push my way past people to get to him.

"May I ask you what you are wearing, Ms. Jones?" he asks, peering at me with black eyes that hide underneath a white hat to match his white everything.

"Well," I begin, pulling out my trousers that bunch at the knee. "Today I am sporting brown trousers in the new style and a white tunic. Both items allow for lots of maneuverability and are available at Madame Pont's tailor shop not too far from here."

"What gender would you say your clothes are for, Ms. Jones?" Grey folds his arms.

"I'd say that these clothes are for boys," I answer matter-of-factually. "Definitely for the people of the male sex."

"Quite right. Now you do know that you are of the female sex-"

"I am!?" I exclaim, putting a hand to my mouth.

"And that females are not allowed to wear men's clothing-"

"No! I never knew! How was I supposed to know if I thought I was a boy?"

"Your sarcasm is not appreciated, Ms. Jones. I would watch that tongue of yours if-"

"Okay, stop." I take a step closer to Grey. "We've been here before. I'm seventeen. You can't throw me in jail or Purge me until I'm eighteen. So you can save your speech and kiss my a*s until then." I pat his chest. Grey's face wrinkles in anger, turning a violent shade of red.

Just when I turn around he states, "Girda can make exceptions."

I turn to face him. "You know as well as I do that 'our' damn religion says to wait until a person is eighteen to put them on the chopping block."

"You are walking a thin line, Jones." Grey's eyes turn darker the longer he glares at me. I may have an armor on the outside, but on the inside I squirm slightly.

"I'm well aware," I respond with a smug smile.

On the inside I squirm even more. I can tell Grey doesn't like my answer much, because his arm begins to wind up for a punch. I react too slowly and his fist connects with my cheek, forcing me to take a step back. One of my hands fly up to my cheek, one of his hovers over his laser gun as he waits for me to make my move. My tongue tastes a bit of blood from a loose tooth. People stop walking to watch us. It would be stupid to fight him in the open. Someone other than me could get hurt. Plus, I only have my knife on me.

"It's been nice, Grey." I smile at him and turn around once more. Moving my jaw in tiny circular motions, I try to make my way to where my friends and I meet after their days at work are done. Suddenly, a man shoves me into a brick wall.

"Girda hating scum," he mutters, spitting at my feet before walking away. I stand up straight and watch him walk down the street, soon getting lost in the crowd of the lower middle-class and poor people.

"Oh, dear," an old woman who was just passing by says. "Are you okay dearie?"

For her I shake off my grimace and give a smile. "I'm fine, thank you for asking."

The old woman has a face that's retained it's youth somehow. Her wrinkles don't gouge her her face like other women's. Maybe it's because of her smile and the twinkle in her eye. "I just don't know what happened to decency." Her head bends forward to look for something in her rather large purse made of sown together rags. The gray curls that rest atop her head bob up and own with her flustered movement. "I can never find anything in here!" she says, digging around harder.

"Oh, I'm okay, I don't need anything," I say, hoping that she'll agree with me and stop looking for whatever she wants to give me.

"Oh no, I was told to give this to you a long time ago."

"What?" I lean in towards her. "Who told you to...?"

"It was the dying wish of a good friend. He said I'd know who to give it to when I saw them." She dug for a couple seconds more before exclaiming, "Here it is!" In her hand she holds a slick, black rock. It looks like it's half of something that used to be a polished square, but is now severed by a diagonal cut. Two of the sides are smooth and polished while the other was jagged. "This is for you!"

"Huh?" The woman pulls out my hand and drops the stone onto my palm. Once it touches my skin, I feel a ripple go rending through my body. For a moment I think that she's an Officer spy and this rock is some new weapon that can paralyze a person. Turns out, I can still move. "What is it?"

"From what I can see, half of a rock. But, do you see this tiny hole? Could have been a necklace, although I've never seen my friend try to wear it."

I look at the woman quizzically. "And it's for me?

"I trust my friend, and I know it's you he intended to give it to. Please," she says as she folds my fingers over the old stone, "take care of it." She pats my hand  and smiles.

"Thank you," I murmur in awe. The woman tilts her head and smiles harder before leaving me to look at the rock in wonderment. What the hell is it and what the hell am I supposed to do with it? For now I pocket it and swim through the crowd of people until I reach the alley that begins the shortcut to the apartment my friends and I meet at.

The ally is warm and dark, full of steam from pipes that carry hot water and gas to everyone's apartments. The pipes protrude from the brick walls of the poor like they were trying to make a hasty escape, only to be plunged into another home of the sick and weak. I step over and under the silver pipes. My heart slightly picks up its pace, but remains calm overall. The alley opens up to a large square, where on each of its four sides is an entrance to another alley. A shadowed figure hides in the shadows. I recognize its shape.

"What the hell do you want, Rast? I'm already having a bad enough day."

"Saw that little display back there," Rast steps into the square. He's wearing his nice clothing: black trousers in the same style of mine but made of softer material and a white button down shirt that's still magically clean. Nothing stays clean down here for very long. His green eyes are somehow bright in the darkness of the alley. His black hair is messy."I'd say it hasn't been a good day for you at all."

"Is that all you came here to say?" I ask, folding my arms. I can't believe that I once saved his annoying a*s. Of course, he doesn't know that.

He steps closer. "Why don't you just do the easy thing, Casalie? Why don't you just wear what you're supposed to wear?"

"The easy thing isn't always the right thing to do," I argue, raising a hand gently to my cheek, feeling a blue and purple bruise blooming there.

"You're so stubborn! This is only going to get you Purged!" Is this seriously all he came to talk to me about? This is all he nags me about.

"Why do you care?" I yell. "Why do you even come down here? Aren't you supposed to be in school right now? Learning about the glory and praises of Girda?"

"Didn't feel like going today." He shifts his weight uncomfortably. When he folds his arms I notice that his forearms and biceps are muscles bulge more than they used to and that his white shirt makes his olive skin look ever darker.

"That's a waste of daddy's money, isn't it? After all, he did pay off the admissions director to get you in."

"I didn't ask him to-"

"And now you're down here, in your nice clothes, mingling with the poor. Are you just showing off?"

"No..."

"Then what are you doing?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"Right, then don't bother me about what you see down here anymore. This isn't like your domain in the clouds. This place is gritty, slimy and messy. It's dirt. It's s**t. Get used to it." Rast backs up a step. I look at him for one second more before continuing down the right alley. I can feel his eyes on me as I walk away from him. Why the hell does he think that he needs to confront me about what I do? I know exactly what kind of trouble I'm getting myself into.

I walk out of the alleyway and come upon the desired street. Poor people walk hastily by, trying to get to their homes to warm them up before the desert cold kicks in. I head towards skyscraper 603 and pull out my key chain to open the splintering front door. I turn the key and then the doorknob, muttering when the door won't open at the first budge.

"Come on you piece of-" I curse right before the door gives way. I stumble into the hallway, two hundred feet by eight maybe, with doors set into the hallway every ten feet. The walls are covered with dust and mold. The wallpaper is peeling off. Every building is like this. Directly ahead of me is a passage way that holds six elevators, the shiniest damn things in these lower levels. The end of the passage way leads to a hallway similar to this. I turn right, heading for the last door in the hallway. I turn the key and the doorknob to the apartment and flick on the lights.

There is a tiny kitchen to my right; just a gas stove, a tiny sink, a mini fridge that doesn't work and one measly cabinet with a coffee maker on top that Grent somehow managed to get. He thinks of the item as a trophy of housewarming, making the place we share away from home more homey. We don't, however, ever buy coffee. We can't afford luxuries like that for ourselves. Maybe one day. Past the kitchen is a small collection of pillows on the ground for sitting on if we decide to go get food when money is good. We've only done that a couple times. I can see us now, laughing and eating, stuffing our faces with noodles from our favorite place. Past that, at the far wall at the end of the room is a closet, where we stash our clothes for our night jobs. I put my bag on the floor and walk to the closet doors, opening the side where my costume is. My fingers gently touch the fabric of the tunic I wear, which is black to go with my black fingerless gloves, black belt, black pants, socks, shoes and face mask. Tacere, I am called by night.

The door to the apartment opens. The person coming in makes a lot of noise as he does so, stamping his boots in the hallway before coming in.

"You know there's no point in that," I say, turning with a smile. "The floor in here's already dirty."

"Well," Grent says as he breathes heavily. "I'm just trying to keep the place looking nice." He comes in the one-room apartment, gently shutting the door behind him and sitting down on one of the pillows on the ground.

I walk to the pillows and sit down too, examining Grent's work-tired face. "How were the fields today?"

"Hell." He runs his dirty fingers through his sweaty blonde hair. Sweat creates a sheen over his sunburned face. "I gotta take these boots off." He bends over to untie one pair of shoelaces. My hands grab the other. "Thanks," he murmurs. I look into his light blue eyes and see his exhaustion.

"You're not working tonight, are you?"

"I don't remember, when's the next shipment coming in?"

"Next shipment's 'sposed to be tonight, right?" Klint shakes his keys from the knob. His dark brown hair is matted to his scalp with sweat. "The, uh, the Grut-"

"Yes," Adan says in an irritated tone as he steps into the open doorway. "That one." Klint moves farther into the apartment, raising his brows at Adan's tone. Adan closes the door. "Can we please not openly discuss who our clients are?"

"But it's the Grutles tonight, right?" Grent asks Adan.

"Yeah, it's the Grutles tonight." Adan and Klint both pull off their work boots and sit on the pillows on the ground with Grent and me. "Holy s**t, Cas, what is that thing on your face?"

"Nothing, really."

"I'm probably not even going to be surprised about how you got this one," Klint mutters. His brown eyes, however, are concerned about the bruise.

"What the hell, how did I not see that thing?" Grent says, getting closer to look at it more thoroughly.

"It's not that big, guys," I try to wave them off.

"Cas, tell me this instant how you got that thing." Adan stares at me full-on, hazel eyes glowing angrily. I try to look up at his red-brown hair to avoid his gaze. It doesn't work. I hate when he does this brother thing to me.

"I got it from Grey."

"Son of a b***h!" Klint growls.

Adan sits back a little. "He was getting on me for not wearing the right clothing, as usual, and I aggravated him a bit more than usual. Then he kind of punched me."

Adan, Klint and Grent all sigh. "Would you please stop aggravating the Officers for once, Cas?" Grent asks me.

"They aggravate me!" I combat. "I have the right to aggravate them back!"

"Not really!" Klint cuts in.

"I thought you guys were supposed to be on my side!"

"Until you end up doing stupid s**t!"

"I always do stupid s**t!"

Adan sighs. "Okay, what's done is done, but the minute you turn eighteen you better be a frickin' golden egg."

"Not a golden egg though, we wouldn't want you to end up like-" Grent begins to say, but Klint and Adan glare at him until he exclaims, "What? It's true! We all know that's how she ended up!"

"If you're talking about my mother, then you're right," I snap. Anger floods my cheeks as tears flood my eyes. "I don't want to be Sacrificed like her."

"Come on, Cas," Klint begs. I stand up, feeling my throat closes in. My heart pounds because of my lungs' want to gasp for air and me refusing to take any. The image of my mother on the horrid stage in front of the church covers my vision. The blood coming down her neck as she was drained of it fills my stomach with bile. People say time heals all. Ten years have passed since then and the wound still bleeds.

"I better get home before Father does," I say, pushing away the subject of my mother and her Sacrifice. "What time are you guys going to get down here tonight?"

 All the boys look down at the floor. None of them want to look at me. After a moment of silence, Klint answers me. "I was thinking I'd be here at ele-"

"Okay," I say, grabbing my bag and opening the door, fuming at the tears I feel pricking my eyes. "Great. See you then." I slam the door shut and begin my walk home, trying to force my tears back into my head.

Author's Note

Please review this work!

Reviews

[Rose Kavanagh]

This is a very promising beginning. Your writing technique is really polished and easy to read - it kind of reminds me of Khaled Hosseini, both in style and subject matter. All in all, it's a great premise and I look forward to reading the rest soon. Happy writing! :)

[S.S. Petrichor]

Thank you very much for reading my work :) I hope to write chapter two soon! The only book of Hosseini's I have read is The Kite Runner, but it is a book I throughly enjoyed!