The Eight Shadows in the Abyss

Two

On normal days, we need to reach the Hall at eight hundred hours. We all sit together, have breakfast, listen to a short ridiculous speech and then disperse to our classes at nine hundred hours. On special days like today, we need to reach the Hall at nine hundred hours, and one hour is cut off from the classes.

Our form has two teachers—Mr. Elliot and Ms. Sullivan. They together teach us four subjects—Augury, Astrology, Colour Symbolism, and Cartography. I passionately hate all of them. Well, maybe except for Colour Symbolism, because it's easy.

If we don't reach our classes on time, we go right away to the Dean's office. I've never been late earlier, so I don't know what really happens. I'll know today.

I enter the Hall at nine hundred and forty hours. Every face turns towards me, and I feel the heat rise on my cheeks.

"May I come in?" I ask the adults. Apparently, the Dean was midway through giving his speech, and he eyes me sternly.

"Yes, you may," he says over the microphone.

I lower my head and take my usual seat on the fourth table from the door. Meissa, a friend of mine, does not say anything but I can already see the questions on her face.

Where were you? You're forty minutes late! And why the heck are you wearing that green shirt? Borrowed it from Ave—or what?

I nod at her tensely. Later.

The table contains two plates of scrambled eggs, both untouched. Meissa brought my breakfast for me today, but I've lost all my appetite.

The Dean's voice blares over the microphone, "I wish you all a happy year ahead and my fellow twenty-one-year-olds a heartfelt adieu. We have nurtured most of you since you were little kids, and have helped you grow into what you are today. It is finally your big day! Why don't we all cheer for our friends in green?"

People hoot. People whistle and they clap. But I can't bring myself to do anything, and even though I know it's wrong, I keep silently cursing my Stacker.

What the heck, Stacker girl? You had one job and you failed, and now I'm sitting here like an idiot.

Rule number six: Never, ever use cuss words.

I'm a good girl according to the rule book. I have never broken a rule, or I pretend I haven't. They cannot get into my head and see how much I curse silently every hour, anyway.

The Dean leaves the podium and joins the table with the other teachers. Mr. Elliot comes up on the microphone.

"It's the big day, indeed! My dear kids in green, I will be calling out your names, and you shall be moving to the Processing Room. Is that clear?"

Mr. Elliot does not wait for a response and begins with the first name. "Cassidy Arden, number sixty-two."

Meissa tugs at my arms and finally asks, "Why were you late?"

"The shirt," I whisper back. "It's green."

She tries not to roll her eyes. We'll be considered mannerless if some teacher caught us talking.

"I can see that."

"Well, I was waiting for the Stacker to return and give me my normal jumpsuit. But she didn't come back."

Meissa narrows her eyes. "That's strange. You're not twenty-one."

"Just turned sixteen."

She seems concerned now. "You haven't even broken any rules to anger them. They've got no reason to punish you."

"They probably hate me for some reason."

"That's my point. They can't hate you for absolutely no reason, Rigel."

Her freckles turn more significant whenever she's cross. I think it makes her look way younger than she really is. Seventeen today.

Mr. Elliot keeps calling out names while I and Meissa talk. She argues that I probably took Ave's shirt. I tell her Ave is only two years older than me—so she's eighteen.

"What about Wyatt? How old is he?"

"Twenty, I guess."

She finally comes up with the same conclusion as mine. "They've made a mistake."

Moments later, Mr. Elliot calls out, "Rigel Blaine, number eighty."