The Mindless Man's Paradise

Chapter one

“Daughter, wake up. You depart in ten minutes.” came Father’s voice.

  All my anxiety suddenly returned to me in a cold, hard reverence of what I was about to do.

  I saw that an outfit was laid out on the floor. Hiking boots, a fur jacket, jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

  Just thinking about the bitter cold nights ahead was enough to give me chills. I put on the clothes diligently, changing from my comfortable satin gown to survival-wear. I worked quickly, hoping for time to eat.

  I had been stuffing myself for the past week or so. I had probably gained ten or so pounds, but with good reason.

  The Journey would be unpredictable. Better to be safe than sorry.

  My huge boots clicked as I stepped from my plush carpeted room to the tiled hallways of my dormitory. I picked up the pack that sat propped up against the wall and slung it over my shoulder, feeling every girl’s eyes on me. I would be the first one to leave on the journey.

  Eyes began to peek out of dorms as I walked. By the time that I had reached the end of the hall, I turned around to see every single pair of eyes on me. I waved over my shoulder and said, “Goodbye, all.”

   I heard echoes of “Have a good journey” as I left.

   It seemed as if that was the common phrase those days. It seemed like just yesterday I was saying it to my brother. That had been six years ago. I hadn’t seen him since.

  “Mother? Father?” I called into the empty kitchen that stood before me.

   They both emerged from the front door with proud faces.

   I fingered the straps awkwardly, waiting for them to say something.

  “Remember everything I told you.” Mother warned.

   Father didn’t say anything except for that he handed me a warm box. It smelled of cookies and I was grateful for them. A piece of home to be with me every night.

  I smiled gratefully at him before Mother started to drag me to the door.

  “11:59.” Father said, glancing at his watch. “Remember the Society’s coordinates.”

  “35.7 degrees north and 83.5 degrees west.”

  Father nodded. I took a deep breath.

  Mother put her hand on my shoulder, causing me to flinch slightly. I wasn’t used to human touch.

  “It’ll sting a little when it turns on.” she advised. 

  I nodded, unable to find words for any of it.

  “5…4…3…” Father began to count.

  Mother hugged me, although awkwardly, it was the most affection she’d shown me in years.

  I felt myself blush as Father counted down the last numbers.

  “2…”

  I brought my free hand up to my charm, which was a crescent; one of the rarer, more pretty shapes. I was grateful for it. Some people just had squiggly blobs.

  I squeezed it in my hands, and it almost comforted me until I heard a small click inside of it, and the charm briefly turned searing hot, burning my fingers.

  “Aaah!” I blew on my hand.

  My parents didn’t do anything except shove me out the door.