Miscount

1

 It was silent within the dining hall. Over a thousand children were seated, and not one mouth uttered a word. They sat with straight backs, up against a long metal table, and in the same cold hard chairs as one did the day before. This was not unusual.

The children never complained about the uncomfortable chairs.

A sound like a metal cog clinking into place was amplified around the hall. The sound echoed through the tall curved beams, making the walls and the floor quiver, and the high windows rattle, just because it was so loud.

The children never complained about the deafening sound.

Three seconds passed and then the children began to recite. Words that had been repeated three times a day, every day were delivered through two sets of mouths.

“I am grateful for my consciousness,

for how we live and how we strive.

I aim for perfection to protect and,

to uphold the value of my human life.”

Two sets of mouths for two types of people- every girl, and every boy looked identical to each other.

 The children never complained about what they looked like.

 In the second row of tables, fifty seats from the far end of the hall, a girl screamed. Her voice shocked the silence with a single note and the way it reverberated was spine-chilling. She whipped her hand out and pointed to the back of the boy in front of her. His white shirt had caught, and the collar had been pulled down a few inches revealing his numbers on the skin of his upper back. A handful of children, mostly younger ones, instinctively turned their heads towards the screaming or blocked it out with their hands. The rest sat silent and still, calm and unflinching, waiting for the procession of their midday meal. Those people knew what was happening, and they knew what was going to happen next.

The girl who screamed cupped her hands over her mouth. It was already too late for her. The children, who had turned or flinched towards the noise, shuffled awkwardly in their seats and attempted a cover up.

A boy, seated virtually in the middle of the room, had almost, almost, clenched his fists in an attempt to ignore the sound.

Number 511 prayed that he wasn’t noticed.

The fast paces of the Elite guards clicked sharply on the floor and minced the atmosphere further. They headed towards the girl. There were more of the Elite than usual, 511 noticed. It made sense. Lately there were more Mistakes for the guards to control.

The girl who screamed panicked started to run, in the corner of his eye, 511 saw her, and the guards that ran her down.

Another metal clinking sounded. The meal had arrived.

The girl was caught easily, and she struggled pathetically in the hands of the guards. 511 glimpsed her number as she made to twist away from the Elite, then he quickly averted his gaze.

Number: 414

Mistake number: 607

Number 511 looked at his meal of oats and milk, trying to think of anything but the rather pretty number she was. Today he noticed his oats had more honey than usual on top and his glass of milk held little more. Another mistake was in the kitchens.

511 counted three seconds and he began to eat his meal, drink his milk, and tried to block out the sounds.

The Elite locked all her limbs down and a hand was forced over her mouth. The girl was dragged from the hall, and they now started finding the flinchers.

They walked the rows with an air of superiority, and as they went, people tried to fight them, they tried to run, and tried to survive. A younger child broke down into screeching tears, an older boy ran for the door as if it was the final exit. The younger was silenced and carried from the hall, the older fell to the ground right in front of 511. He pulled himself to his feet slowly, facing the guard who had tripped him. 511 glimpsed his back when the guard grabbed his arm and the shirt was pulled off his shoulder.

Number: 193

Mistake number: 1008

511 raised a spoonful of oats and swallowed sourly, deeply regretting looking at the boy. Number 193 was marched from the hall.

The original boy that the girl had been terrified of continued eating.   The remaining Elite clicked their way over to him. He was unlucky; his only mistake was having his shirt caught.

511 could hear the last guards taking him from the room.