A Song of Silence

Chapter 2

Callisto

—DON'T LET THEM KNOW HIDE YOUR TRUE SELF BE WHO THEY THINK YOU ARE—

I failed the Pouring. When she looked at me, I could see that she knew, she suspected something. I didn't smile. I was supposed to smile. But I didn't. It gave me away. All I can do now is to keep my head high, hope she doesn't say anything, and smile. Keep smiling. Always. Or be killed. Maybe the official didn't notice anything. I tried to be discreet when I wiped the spilt water with my long ash-colored sleeve, but if they noticed it, I'm dead for sure.

The chatter of the rest of the students makes it hard to think, hard to focus, but at least it's easier to blend in with the rest of the crowd here.

Every day is the same. Wake up. Get ready. Breakfast. Classes. The Pouring. Lunch. Classes. Go home. Eat dinner. Sleep. Over and over, day after day, one after another. Tiresome, but I've learned to live by routine. Routine is better. Like everything else I do, "better" is defined by how well it will allow me to hide. I've determined how to be independent and care for myself, because one thing that isn't within the government's control is how a parent cares for their children. My parents neglected me for their duties to the Imperium, and frankly, I see that it's better this way, too. When I was living with them, I was always in fear of discovery, as they were so close to the highest seat of authority. They would report on me in an instant if I made myself known. So I stayed quiet. I have stayed quiet my whole life.

When I turned fifteen last year, I was legally allowed to live by myself. Leaving was easy. I was tired of hiding the truth, tired of drying my tears – the one thing that makes me sure of the fact that I am human – before they could fall. Those small, tiny droplets reassure me that I am not another one of their robots, puppets, to be shaped however they want me to be. That's not who I am. But that is a secret that must be kept. I cannot tell anyone. I have seen the executions when I had been younger of those who spoke out against the Imperium. It wasn't even anything big, only questioning their orders or resisting their control. If I were to let loose that I am not even under their control, the consequences would be unimaginable. It would mean my death, and many more. It would not go unpunished, and I would serve as a reminder for all the future generations of what may happen if you speak out, if you stand out, if you aren't careful. Most don't even have to worry about this. Most don't have the willpower to slip away from their invasive messages, the ones that make them do the things that the government had chosen them to do. If I were to reveal myself and step from the shadows that go endlessly into the darkness, there would be no way back. And even as much as I try to convince myself that it isn't true, I do care about my family. It's less complicated if I keep my thoughts black and white. Do not care about others. Protect your secrets. Watch from a distance. Act like one of them. Over time, it has become a code that I live by.

***

The prattling coming from all around me in the cafeteria is enough to shake me from the deepest thought spirals. I try to walk in a manner that seems rhythmic and orderly, but it feels stiff and awkward, so I forget about the idea and decide to walk regularly.

I set my tray on the long wooden table, sitting down on the cracked and splintered bench as I have done a thousand times before.

—KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN PRETEND THAT NOTHING HAPPENED—

Day after day. I eat alone. I have eaten alone for years. No one wanted to get to know me, and likewise, I am not interested in making any friends. Friends have a way of making you care about them. I cannot do that. I cannot let myself or my focus be hindered by anyone.

Either way, she comes and sits down next to me with no warning at all, with none of my permission. I move my plate slightly to the left, now squeezed into the corner, to try and avoid her. She is the one who saw me, the real me. She saw how hard I have to try to fit in. She will be here to question me. I will be discovered.

I stare at my plate as I eat, hoping to make it clear that I'm not interested in talking to her. She says nothing. Maybe I can get through this meal without her suspecting something about me. But I doubt it. Even with their natural curiosity toned down by the Imperium's control over them, it's not something that wouldn't intrigue them. Especially if it gives them the chance to be promoted by the government. I've seen the hunger, the eagerness in this girl to please her rulers. This is exactly the kind of person that I despise. Mindless and brainwashed by their propaganda, willing to do anything to make them happy, believing everything that she has heard. Without even knowing her, I already hate her. How could someone so easily go along with them? Does she truly believe that this, this control, was the solution to all of the world's problems? This is exactly the kind of person who would pass on every little thing she heard if it would help her to succeed in their eyes. This is exactly the kind of person who would give herself up for them, without even a second thought. Not that they would even be able to have a second thought about it if they truly wanted a sacrifice.

But instead, all she says is "Hi, I'm Astrid. What's your name?"

I'm so taken aback by her comment after expecting the worst that it takes me a moment to unstick the tip of my tongue from the roof of my mouth in order to actually reply to her. I have to stop myself from responding with a snappy retort, because even with all my misgivings and wariness of this girl, – Astrid – she doesn't seem to be hiding anything.

—KEEP YOUR GUARD UP YOU CAN'T TRUST ANY OF THEM—

"Callisto," I answer, trying to keep it short and sweet, just in case. You can never be too careful.

We eat in silence for a few minutes longer before she asks me another question. The second her lips part, I brace myself for the sure interrogation that is to come. Still, it doesn't. Again. Why is she delaying the inevitable? It's no secret to anyone that there is more that she is holding back from inquiring.

"How are you?" Astrid asks me.

Small talk. I hate small talk. That's all they ever do. Every day I hear it. They're so shallow, all of them are. They don't care about your answer; they're simply trained that way. It's robotic.

"Fine." I've grown used to hiding how I feel. Sixteen years of having to conceal yourself and act like a nobody can do that to you.

"That's great!" she exclaims, with such genuine delight that I can't keep my own forced smile from becoming real.

Possibly she is merely pretending to be my friend. But, in the same way, possibly she really does want to be one. Perhaps underneath all that nothingness from the Imperium, they really are okay. For all I could guess, there's something deeper that has only been buried from reach. Maybe they're just waiting to be found.