Pictures

Beatrice - Part 1

                        "Tattoos are the stories in your heart, written on your skin." -Charles De Lint

                                                                                                 Beatrice

 A loud rumbling could be heard overhead. With a bright blue flash and crack of thunder Beatrice sat up in her, drenched in sweat, clutching her blanket. With wide chocolate brown eyes she peered around the room looking for something, anything that made sense. "Sissy?" Beatrice spun around to see a matching pair of chocolate eyes blinking sleepily underneath a patchwork quilt on the bed opposite of her. 

Beatrice's breathing slowed as the fog crept from her mind and her heart slowed to a steadier beat. Beatrice's little brother, Evan, always seemed to bring her peace. He yawned toothily and slid from his bed.

"I'm sorry little Four, did I wake you?" He frowned and leaned back as she tried to tousle his hair. 

"I told you not to call me that." He said crossly, with a huff of air out of his nose.

 Beatrice laughed and patted the bed next to her, "I'm sorry Evan it's an old habit." 

Still frowning he clambered onto the bed and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. She reached out and ran her fingers through his curly brown hair. She could remember the day her parents had brought him home.

That day, May 15th, the house reeked of fear and confusion. In their society everyone had a group of people their age. December 31st was known as "Connection Day" where everyone was free to have sex and try to get pregnant. Nine months later on "New Life Day," September 31st, every child conceived on Connection Day was born, making that day the day that every Career Doctor and Emergency Doctor dreaded.  

A normal family unit was allowed at maximum three children, any other was deemed as extraneous and the Father of the family unit was to make the decision of who had to be imprisoned and marked for the rest of their life so that the Unit would still be within legal limits of a maximum of 5 people. Normally if this happened the child would be deemed an Outcast, they'd be forced to make their own brand, and then thrown in jail to be used as a labor worker along with the other serious offenders. In rare cases the mother would take the sentence to save the child, and in extremely rare cases, the Father would take the sentence.

This had only ever happened once in the history of Beatrice's city, and it was Beatrice's father who had done it. Evan, the 4th child was allowed to live a normal life, while Beatrice's Father was to be dragged away for labor work. On that fateful day, Beatrice's Mother had fallen ill suddenly at the breakfast table. Her mother was just complaining about stomach pains when she stood up suddenly, her hand flying to her stomach with a small "Oh!" before toppling into her breakfast of eggs and pickles and ice cream, spattered the food on her pictures. Her younger brother and sister started screaming as her father jumped up, calling out Beatrice's mother's name. Her father picked up Beatrice's mother in his muscled, pictured arms, while trying to shush the screaming child while Beatrice stood there, frozen. He ran with her mother in his arms to the city provided emergency vehicle that had five possible destinations. He ran back into the house and he grabbed Beatrice by the shoulders.

A flash of lightning illuminated his face and the cross with a bolt of lightning through it on his right cheek that signaled he was an Emergency Doctor. As he looked at Beatrice with his panic-stricken chocolate eyes, a clap of thunder drowned out his words but Beatrice understand the message anyway: "Protect the Family."

Hours later the emergency vehicle's doors could be heard over the drizzling rain. Beatrice and he siblings ran to the door as her mother and father walked in with guarded smiles, and carrying a little baby boy. Exhaustion dampened their faces and the worry lines were more prominent than Beatrice had ever seen on their faces. Her father's normally handsome face seemed strained, like he was wearing a mask. "This is our little Number 4," her mother said, kneeling down to let the other children see, "this is our little Evan."