1B2 AU

Chapter one

[tw: grooming, abuse/love bombing, mention of death, S/A, transphobia, homophobia]

When I was younger, my parents would walk me through this cemetery, and point to the graves of anyone we knew. It was odd to be around so much death. I never understood the concept of graveyards. Large burial sites. They were stopped completely for a long while, but with increased death rates, we had to bring them back. Maybe it would help if the government didn’t kill anyone who dared to oppose them. I sit down on the grass, in front of two crosses. I’m sure my parents would have hated this. They always opposed the idea of being buried, and even more so having a boring tombstone. I’m not even allowed to bring anything to make it prettier. You get searched before going into a graveyard. If they find anything suspicious, they take it. I always make sure to only have my wallet, and phone. I don’t want anything being taken from me. The concept has always upset me. I understand why, I just hate that I can’t even bring a picture for the empty frame attached to my fathers grave. It’s almost not worth coming. I can be sad at home, there’s barely any difference. This is more personal though. Having my parents no further than three feet under me. There’s no doubt they’re contorted into the smallest ball they can be in. The point of the graveyards is to keep space. They won’t let people rest comfortably, if it means taking up more room than they have to.

I stretch my arms above my head. It gets boring, sitting here. I can’t just leave them. I feel the need to spend at least an hour with them every week. I never got to spend time with them before this. The stupid goddamn laws on child care made sure of that. I moved in with a nanny when I was five, and only got to see them a couple times per month, until I turned thirteen and got to move back in. Even when I lived with them I barely got to see them. They were busy with work, and I later learned the rebellion as well. My parents always spoke highly of those who stood up to the government. It was so obvious that they were planning something, but I didn’t catch it. It’s probably best that I didn’t. I would be under with them right now, if I had. Maybe that would be for the best.

An ant climbs along my leg. Disgusting. They try to keep the cemeteries bug free, but it doesn’t work. I don’t have to sit around and hang out with the bugs and the bones, I can go home whenever I want. I want to right now. I feel tied to the stones, though. I’m not sure if I have the heart to break the rope. I stand up, and pray that the rope will stretch, as I walk away. The graves aren’t too far in. They’re in the J row. Better than Z. I have to get home anyway, so it’s alright I’m leaving. I have a test to study for. I think I’m prepared, but better safe than sorry. I’ll have to do another year of schooling if I don’t pass. This grade determines my future. I can’t fail.

I let the guards search me, then I run to my car. All I have to do is get in, and insert my desired location. It barely takes any time to get back home. I have to make food for Jackson before I can study. I go inside, and wash my hands, to start cooking. I gather the ingredients, and measure them out. Hopefully Jackson gets home late, dinner might take a while. Most houses have cooks to make food for them, but Jackson and I can’t afford it. I do the cooking, and Jackson pays the bill. He jokes that I’m like his house wife. As long as I have a place to stay.

The door opens while the food is still cooking. I go over to Jackson, to greet him. He completely ignores me, taking his coat off instead. He hands it to me, so I hang it up. Only then do I get a kiss hello. He doesn't hold me anymore, but I understand. He's tired from work. He sits at the table. I haven't set it yet. I grab the cutlery and plates, and set it all down.

"Water?" I offer. He rubs the bridge of his nose, between his eyes. I pour him some anyway, despite him not answering yet. "Bad day at work?"

"Charlotte, you know I don't want to look at you when you're dressed like that." He flicks his wrist, to gesture at me.