The Maze

Luna

Congratulations Luna,

The age of adulthood is approaching. Your society is honored to have you become a productive member and welcomes you to the Maze preparations. The Maze is a stepping stone for all emerging adults in our society. It is a challenge created specifically for you and only you. All of your life a team of specialists work on the perfect maze that will not only test your strength, but also your courage, intelligence, and determination to prove that you are ready to be introduced to society and to the partner that has been chosen to best suit you. More information will be available in the upcoming days.

We wish you the best of luck.

___________ ____________________ ______________

I sit cross-legged on my narrow bed in the dark, over populated room. I'm staring at the letter in my hand. Every now and then, a bolt of lightning will streak across the sky and light the area through the tall window, allowing me to see the words printed across the paper. The rustling of the restless sleepers and sound of snores serve as a constant reminder of where I am and what turning 18 means.

As usual, I'm the only one awake in the middle of the night. I've always had trouble sleeping, but tonight is especially difficult because of the storm. The thunder cracks every once in a while, but the tic-tic-tic of the rain pelting the thin windows isconstant. On nice nights, having the bed next to the window is a blessing. But on nights like tonight, it just serves to keep me awake. I stare out the window as the rain eases slightly.

There is one dull, yellow street lamp left that hadn't gone out yet. It's on its last leg, though. It flickers from time to time.

Being an orphan is bad enough, but being a 17-year-old in an orphanage is really sad. People want the cute babies and toddlers who they can raise as their own. Teen orphans have been stereotyped to be angry and defiant which makes couples shy away from those of us who are still here. I've been to a few different placements but always end up right back here. No one wants to keep the child that's locked in their own mind.

I've never really been good with people, which is why I've been here so long. The nuns that run the place say I'm cold, but it's just how I am. I shut people out. It'snothing personal. I help out a lot around the home. I don't mind doing that. It's not too bad. It gives me something to do, especially since I don't have friends to hang out with.

The rain and thunder finally die down, so I lie down and try to get another hour of sleep before morning.

- - -

"Wake up!" A nun shouts as she flings open the door. I think its Sister Glenda. She isusually the loudest of the bunch. I flip the sheets off me, swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand up.

I trudge over the one of the communal dressers and open my designated drawer. I grab my clothes and go into the bathroom to quickly change. When I appear, I put up my night clothes. All of this takes about 15 minutes due to the 10 other girls occupying the same area. Boys and girls are separated for obvious reasons. I never associate with the other girls in the morning, or anyone in the morning. I am not in the mood. Ever.

I get my shoes out from under my bed and slip them on. I run my fingers through my wild red hair and pull it into a ponytail. I go down to the dining hall for breakfast. At the door is Sister Eliza, who has a cart behind her and is handing out breakfast to kids coming in. This morning is ham and cheese sandwiches in plastic wrap with a container of orange juice.

"Good morning, Luna" Sister Eliza chirps as I reach her,

"Good morning, Sister Eliza." I smile. She hands me my food. "Thank you, Sister." I speak. Then she sneaks me an extra carton of OJ and winks her kind, brown eye at me. I chuckle. "Thank you, Sister." I repeat.

She puts a slim finger to her lips and smiles. Of all the nuns in the orphanage, Sister Eliza is my favorite. She is the one who found me the night I arrived in the cliché leave the baby on the doorstep in the rain fashion. She has basically raised me.

In the dining hall, girls and boys are allowed to sit together, but it is still boys on one side, girls on the other. For the most part. Probably because the younger kids are still convinced that cooties are a thing. Those of us who are older tend to sit wherever.

"Hey Luna!" A little dark haired and skinned boy says when I sit next to him. Tommy is 8. He came here about 3 years ago when his orphanage shut down.

"Hey buddy." I ruffle his hair. He smiles and goes back to eating.

The boy on the other side of me doesn't look up from his sandwich, just mutters, "Morning," in my general direction

"You're a ray of sunshine today, aren't cha, Zeke?" I take a big bite of my sandwich.

"And you are?" he scoffs. "The only people you're nice to in the morning are Sister Eliza and the runt" He gestures to Tommy.

"You don't need to be a dick to me, Zeke. I'm one of the few people here who acknowledge your existence even slightly positively."

He scoffs again. Zeke is the same age as me, 17, but younger by a few months. He'sjust a sour puss. He came here when we were both 14 and he's still openly bitter about it.

"Wait, I know someone else you're nice to in the morning. I mean, you were nice to him. Well, not exactly nice, but-"

"Shut up, Zeke" I rip off a piece of bread from my sandwich and throw it at him.There's no point in reminiscing about people who have already left.

Tommy tugs on my shirt and looks up at me. "Are you going out today?"

I nod and slide him the extra orange juice carton that Sister Eliza gave me. "Which means I expect you to start on your school work without me tonight."

The Sisters tell us about how past societies ran orphanages like inescapable prisons. No one left unless it was with a family or you aged out. The Fathers of our society decided that we should be more prepared to be members of society and changed those ways. Now, anyone 15, 16 or 17 was expected to find a job and work to prepare for the days when they'll be given their permanent career. Which would be great if we could actually find places that will hire us.

I guess even a perfect society has wrinkles in its plans.