Chapter 1

Number one rule of survival in any orphanage: never trust anyone. I learned this rule early on and am proud to say that I never broke it. Well, almost never. I trusted my sister once, and it resulted into me moving to the Troubled Section (which essentially meant that I was causing them trouble, not that I was troubled). I never went down the trusting path ever again.

And now, on my last day at this cell-free prison commonly called state orphanage, I am glad that I have barely talked to anyone in the last six years. That way, there is a chance that no one will notice my absence until I am long gone. But before I leave, I have to go down to breakfast where my table will get cake and everyone will sing. Why? Because today is the day I turn eighteen and become a legal adult. Yipee. Usually, when a student turns eighteen, they finish their school year before leaving. But as you might already have noticed, I am not usual. I am “troubled” and I will prove it by running away from this hell hole the moment I blow out the single candle on my stone-hard birthday cake.

I smile at the thought of my upcoming departure and stuff my brand new sleeping bag into my dad’s old backpack, which will be the only thing I bring on my journey. There, I am packed and all ready to go. Around me, forty-nine other girls aged twelve to eighteen are still asleep. For the last three years, I have silently gotten up before everyone else in order to have some time to myself. I’m just not the type of person who can remain sane without any alone time.

But that won’t be a problem anymore after I leave. I check my watch; five fifty, time to get dressed. I shove the backpack under my bed where no one should look, and I pull out my uniform from the tiny locker next to my bed. I put on a few extra layers under my crisp grayish-blue shirt and my vomit-green, pleated skirt. If I remember well, it’s cold outside the Walls. Finally, I braid my long, stringy black hair behind my back and tie my purple ribbon onto the end of it. I’m ready to face the day.

 

By the time everyone is sitting down in the huge cafeteria, ready for breakfast, it is six thirty. I accept the birthday wishes from the nine other girls at my table, who are just happy to be getting cake, and ignore the jealous looks I’m getting from the others. While bowls of porridge (I didn’t even know people still ate that before coming here) are being passed around at every table but ours, one of the cafeteria workers brings a big, black cake (they must have burnt it again) garnished with a single half-melted candle. I wait patiently for everyone to sing (Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, Evalina!) to blow out my candle. I haven’t made a wish in years, but what the hell, I have nothing to lose. So I wish to be successful in my escape.

After the candle has been blown out, no one bothers with talking to me; I established a while ago that I am not a talker. I use this opportunity to slip away right before the bell rings. They won’t even notice that I am gone until well into first period when our science teacher, Mr. Christopher, will finally call roll and realize that Evalina Forgeston, whoever that is, is missing. Perfect.

It is now seven fifteen. The others are just getting out of breakfast and will be hanging out in the small courtyard or in the library until class starts at seven thirty. That means I have fifteen minutes to slip out unnoticed before the janitor/repairman/security guard, Mr. Johns tours the school to make sure no student is playing hooky.

I pull my bag from under the bed and make sure I have not left any clues: the bed is made, just like everyone else’s and I have made sure to take clothes that aren't state issued. That way, there won’t be a hole in my locker. Everyone will think I’m just skipping school for a bit of fun on my birthday. If only they knew…

 

Exactly eight minutes later, I am out on the street in front of the orphanage I have lived in for the last thirteen years. I shoot one last glance towards it and break into run. Goodbye and see you never.

I stop a few blocks later and duck into an alley to change. At eighteen, I am tall and my dark look and curvy figure mean that I could easily pass for at least twenty. Without my uniform, no one will ever think that I am a schoolgirl. I rip of my tight shirt and stuff it into my bag with my skirt and scratchy woolen stockings. Underneath, I am wearing a simple long sleeved black tee-shirt and thick, grey leggings. Sneaking a look around to make sure no drunkard is going to stumble into my impromptu changing room; I dig an old pair of jeans and my mother’s Princeton sweater out of the depths of my backpack. Finally, I kick off my black flats to slip on some beat up sneakers and I let my hair down. All done!

Wearing my new clothes, I step out into the busier main street and try to look and act as normal as possible. Only that is kind of hard because this is the first look at the real world that I’ve gotten in years. The last field trip we went on was three years ago and we traveled by night. All I know about Amoria, our city, is that it remains separated from the rest of the world, still unable to contact anyone, if there even is anyone left to contact.

Let me explain. Twenty years ago, in 2038, the sea level did what it had been threatening to do for the past twenty years and flooded every coastal city on Earth, also incapacitating  human technologies such as phones and the internet. That is, everywhere but in the small city of New Venice, Rhode Island. Very ironic name for the city that would be the only one to be spared by the rising sea level. All I know about this phenomenon is that it has to do with currents. Ever since the Flood, as we call it, we have rebuilt this city to live independently. How do we know what happened? Well, obviously I wasn’t there, but I’ve been told that the TVs only stopped working two days after the Flood. Before that, they got hour by hour reports on what was going. Maybe I should point out that when I said that all coastal cities had been flooded, I was kind of lying. The truth is that half of every continent and most of Europe was swallowed up by water, causing millions of death due to humanity’s denial of global warming and related unpreparedness. After hearing this for the first time, the only though I had was: they deserved it. But that’s a personal opinion and I’ll let you make up your own mind about the matter.

But let’s go back to my story; or rather, Amoria’s story. New Venice survived in chaos for almost two years until the surviving local authorities finally took charge, right around the time of my birth. They tried to assign living quarters to all the residents and did their best to restore order. This went on until I was three, when a young, handsome new leader named Harry Lowford took over. No one had ever heard of him before, but that didn’t matter. He had ideas, and they were good: with him, New Venice was going to do more than survive, it was going to thrive. (I'm pretty sure he got that line from one of those cliche science fiction books my mother like to read...). And from then on, things went from bad to worse, or better; depending on your point of view.

However, the fact remained that the newly renamed city of Amoria was stranded in the middle of the Water (Lowford is very fond of using short, capitalized words to describe the mess our world has become). That is why, to prevent further Flooding, one of his first decisions as the appointed leader for our “community”, as he called it, was building the Walls. The Walls (see what I mean about short, capitalized words?) are actually just glorified twenty feet high, concrete walls. But I guess that it has been pretty good at fulfilling its purpose, not that the Flood has ever even come close to happening again.

When I was younger, I lived in the family house outside the Walls, which were completely built by the time I turned four. I guess we would have eventually been relocated (euphemism for kicked out) when they sealed the Walls, but I never got to find out since my parents died when I was five and I came to live at the orphanage. But now, I am finally about to find out what the outside of the Walls looks like. If the bus ever arrives, that is.

 

Author's Note

What do you think of the the tone I give Evalina?

Reviews

[Shonte']

I love the tone. She definitely has her own "voice". I only wish that the paragraphs were spaced and the story broken up--maybe into two parts--for an easier read. I understand that sometimes when transporting things go awry. Nothing major, just a thought: could the first paragraph end with "on my hard stoned birthday cake" and then pick up with paragraph two which begins with, "I smile at the thought of my upcoming departure?" The part about first having to go to breakfast, etc...slowed up the pace a little for me and switched my train of thought, just a little. It's relevant but not necessarily relevant in that space. Hope that makes sense. Also, I am FINALLY posting your bio and featured story on the site. Will inbox you soon with a link. Best wishes on all your writing endeavors. You really seem to have the gift. Keep going. :-)

[Lea Walker]

I really like Evalina, she seems strong, independant and smart. I think you should read it over because some of the sentences don't make sense because you missed some letters. Other than that it was great.

[Lorena Rose]

I like the concept. Only wish there was more dialogue so I could see how Evalina interacts with other people. I look forward to this future though and hope you find the inspiration to keep writing. Maybe make this a prologue rather than a first chapter. Can't wait to learn more about Evalina and like the title it was eye catching. Want to meet her mate. More, more, more.

If you get the time I'd love for you to read and review my book, Cold's Fire

[Duek]

This is great! I love the concept of it, can't wait to read more.