Monitor
Aidan Forster
Chapter 1
Meredith Blaine stared at the clock, worry and fear in her eyes. That clock represented many things to her at that time. It was her savior, that ticking timepiece of eternity that would keep her from the outside world. She need not worry about external problems while that ticking sound reverberated in her head, as loud as an orchestra. The clock seemed the solution to all of her problems, a never-ending time keeper that will stop its passing for her. Yet at the same time it was a monster, a gate keeper that had shut its gates on her. With every tick tock sound in her head, fear wrapped its chains tighter and tighter around her as she awaited her Assessment results. Sweat dripped down her forehead as the time ticked away, slowly pulling her from her false security and imaginary peace in that room of granite.
Meredith looked nervously around the room, careful not to meet the Proctors’ eyes. The ceiling was a bland grey with cracks spread across it like a spider web, like she was the juicy fly stuck helpless in the center. The tile was a tessellating pattern of green and beige, two colors that added to the subtle hint of boredom, fear, and anxiety. The desks were flat mahogany wood with black bars twisting to support the frame like shadows ensnaring her into an abyssal doom. The desks were spaced a yard apart in rows, and three yards apart in the columns, all in order to eliminate possible cheating. Yet Meredith knew of students who had hacked into the Holopads and were able to send messages to each other telling of test answers and the possible outcomes. Oh, how Meredith wished she could communicate with Poppy, if only to not become a Monitor. She tapped her foot nervously, a quick and steady rhythm that echoed throughout the room like water dripping in a cave. One of the Proctor’s heads snapped around as she gave Meredith a malevolent glare. Meredith blushed and stared down at her lap, her brown hair falling in front of her eyes. She gritted her teeth in frustration.
Why shouldn’t I be able to dig myself out of this hole? She thought to herself, newfound determination coursing through her veins. She braced herself, touched the Holopad, and skipped to the next question. It read:
What are your views on the Monitors that keep our society healthy?
Meredith gasped, her eyes widening in fear. She knew the question would come up, yet she had no idea it would be quite so terse. She racked her brain for possible answers, yet she was stymied. If she said they were blight on the otherwise smooth society, she would surely be demoted to that of a custodial worker or, even worse, thrown into the Grunge with the other Undesirables. Yet if she stated that they were the infrastructure of a healthy world, they would surely misinterpret her statement and see her forced answer as a plea to become one of the model Monitors. She fretted over this decision for quite some time, all the while hearing the infernal clock tick and tick in the back of her mind, reminding her of the limited time she had for pondering. She was about to enter her response when a thought struck her. It was not as if she hadn’t known this, or thought this, or even acknowledged it, but it was now clear as crystal in her mind. This decision would change her life forever, yet if for better or for worse, she could not tell. She bit her lip and gasped as she drew blood, feeling it trickle into her mouth and tasting the metallic burst that went through her mouth. She put aside her fears and vowed that whatever her Assessment Results were, she would face it like a true Blaine would. She quickly entered her answer and pressed the “Enter” button on the Holopad.
Quickly she felt the usual sweep of anxiety overcome her. She had heard from her older siblings and friends that this was the most agonizing part. The test itself, however, was altogether challenging, and was the cause of much worry among the youth of her world. Yet she had always heard that the end, the final confirmation, was the worst. It felt more like a beginning; a new kind of fear and worry, the fear and worry that your predetermined life would change tracks, and you would have to adjust or fall behind. The panic swept through her like wildfire, and she began to wring her hands as if wringing away her impurities, her sins, and her sorrow. Despite her incessant attempts to ease her pain, it thrived inside of her like a parasite. These last few minutes in between living and dying at the hands of her role were agonizing, like awaiting the death sentence of a loved one – or yourself. She finally came to know the true nostalgia that her older siblings had felt, all four describing the terrible loss of yourself at the end of the Assessment. She knew with all her heart that they were right, that every word she took for a sticky lie was actually an unblemished truth.
