Dancing In The Thunder

1-Beginning But It's The End

Glowy POV

I wake up to the rising sun, the smoke filling my lungs immediately as I rise. My grandma has woken me. My mom was taken to a camp long ago. My dad is dead.

My country doesn't like redheads—well, they never have, but now it's serious. Once upon a time, a group of redheads tried to overthrow the government a while back. They were smart, really, but also stupid. Why did they ever think that would work?

Ever since, we've been in a civil war—two presidents battling for power.. and the fight is over red hair. Dumb. I know. But that's the life. Ten years of war. I've forgotten a life without it.

I stretch and get up finally, and say, "Grandma, why so early? Normally I sleep till lunch."

She says, "Honey.. they just declared it was a hair check day. And.. we ran out of dye 2 months ago."

I scream, "NO! Can't you buy more?"

She says, "Nope. Not on hair check days. We'll have to use the wig.."

I frantically ask, "Do you have one?"

She says, "Yes. I do."

I breathe slowly.

I reply, "Can.. Can I have the superglue?"

She says, "Honey.. why go through the pain? They tug extra hard on your hair.. Just have it normal."

I reply, "No. I'm not getting caught this year."

I've stayed hidden for 12 years, I want to make that 13. I might be the only redhead left. I don't know. I just hope I last.

I quickly glue the wig to my head and put on a blue shirt and white skirt (maybe it'll be more convincing if I look blonde? Like the girls do in highschool movies?). Then, we head out.

I head over to the place, the huge circle in the middle of the plaza. They were already checking people.  The check always scared me. Nobody showed emotion. The year my best friend Heather got taken.. I never saw her again.

It was announced she was killed 2 years later. She was deemed worthless. She was the youngest to have ever been deemed worthless. At only 10 years old. Heather Hale. I still remember how traumatizing that was.

Soon, I'm next. I hope I don't get caught. Then, they march over to me. They pull. Hard. And to my horror, it slides right off! They throw me into a truck with force. It's dusty, and I'm coughing. Hard. We all are. Nobody can save us now. We're doomed. We have to be.

Clove POV

I search the volunteer list frantically at my high school, recently renamed after Heather Hale, the youngest person to be deemed worthless in our society. Please, please let an H last name be there, Oh there is! There's 3! C H.. oh my God I see a C H! Clove Hardich! That's my name, I say! I found it everyone! They're all so excited, knowing I've wanted to protest forever. I ran out of Hale Middle with the biggest smile on my face.

Now, 2 weeks after that happened, I'm leaving the house. I'm careful and silent as a mouse. After all, just because the war fronts aren't here yet does not mean they won't be. My older sister taught me that. Silent, silent.. until I run into someone, and it makes me jump.

My little sister says, "Clove, wait!"

She's 3. I didn't want Daniele, my older sister, to see me leave, she hated the fact I wanted to protest because of how dangerous it was. Mom and dad had died in camps, or in the war. We were ALL adopted. I don't know where my other parents are. Or if I even still have any.

I say, "Please, promise me, no matter what you do, tell Daniele I'm at school. Or at the store. Please."

She says, "Okay!"