The Soldier

CHAPTER ONE(Edited)

Every day I have the same dream. The dream where a little boy with blonde hair and blue eyes smiles at me, and then I kiss him on the cheek. Then the dream fades away and after, I’m left in the dark. I wake up.
I hit the snooze button on my alarm tablet screen. Yawning, I stare at the clock, my eyes still half-closed. It’s five o’clock in the morning.
Standing up, I stretch then head for the shower. The shower feels dangerously cold, as if it knows that I don’t belong here in this mansion anymore. I feel the same too. Yesterday- the day before the first day of school-I had to take the Test. The Test is no simple matter. The Test decides your whole life. Whether you become a teacher, a scientist, a politician, etc. There are two camps you’ll either be sent to. (Camp One for Soldier, Camp Two for the rest of the job options.) They’re normal everyday jobs that everyone in the North could live almost well with. But there’s a catch. If you do not past the Training, you go Home. Going Home means you are sent back to your family, your family is put to shame, and you may never show your face to society again. Really, there’s nothing to worry about. The job trainings are easy… unless your job is a Soldier.
I think yesterday was a curse. Out of all the various jobs I could’ve gotten, I got the Soldier job. (Most people go Home from Camp One.)
When the Test administrator took me through the different trials, I kept doing the best decision. I’d choose the best way out of things, that’s the only reason, being intelligent like a Soldier. A one in a million chance.. I could’ve been picked as a teacher, or an oneirologist. That way, I can find out the meanings behind my dreams. It just happened that the Test Monitor decided that being The First Daughter of the North of the New Rome, I shouldn’t be a coward.
Once I was done, the Test Administrator told me my results, then sent me to back to class, waiting for the next student to take their Test.
When school ended for the day, I went straight to my room, and closed my eyes shut to keep from crying. With my eyes clenched so tight, my head throbbed, and my eyes were red.

   I rinse through my hair with orange-scented soap, massaging my hands through my greasy, tangled strands.

Scrubbing away the dirt on my arms, I curl my lips, reminding myself to never go without taking a shower again.
Turning off the shower knob with the tablet button, I step out of the shower and dry off with a towel. Then I brush my teeth shoe looking in the mirror, trying not to cry.
Crying hasn’t ever been my favorite thing. In fact, I hate it with a passion. Ever since two years ago, I have vowed myself to never cry. Never did I focus on the reason why. (I don’t really like to talk about it.)
My school uniform is surprisingly not too big on me. Usually, most of the clothes I own are a size too large. The school uniform fits me just right; it almost feels like I’m wearing my pajamas still. A white silk shirt, red linen vest, matching plaid skirt, black socks, and leather boots.
I leave my room, heading downstairs towards the door, my messenger bag in hand. The living room is something that not even my family can afford, not with this war going on. Wondering how I’m living in this house, then? Well, it’s simple… the President of the North of New Rome gets free housing in the Presidential Estate. It may seem like it’s a good deal, but it’s the worse.  My father has the security in the house twenty-four/seven. Electric gates cover the area. Even if a bird tried to fly over the estate, it’d be electrocuted before it could land on the roof. If I try to escape, the security guards are obligated-even if Father vetoes it- to shoot me down past curfew. The Castor estate is like a prison.
In truth, the President of the North of the New Rome doesn’t rule the country with his people. We’re no democracy. We’re no republic. In truth, the Lab Division rules us all, and Father’s just a puppet that they use as a figure to light the North to victory...

   I need to go out to the lake. I need to get my stress out. I don’t know why the lake calms me down, but it does.
Yet, I never get to bring out the next action. My father steps in front of me. “Good morning, June.” His chestnut-colored hair is parted to the side as regulations for Northern New Roman presidents.
I duck my head, hoping he’s not too cranky this morning. “Good morning, Father.” I say.
He flicks the light switch on, letting his steely, dark green eyes focus on me. “Do you know what time it is in the morning?”
I take a quick glance at my watch and wince. He’s definitely going to give me a lecture later on today afterschool. “Six o’clock, sir.” I answer.
  His tall, lean body looms over me. “Today is a school day, and what are you supposed to be doing right now?”
I gulp. I’ve never liked to experience my father when he’s mad. Though he’s never hit me, his lectures are bad enough when he’s angry.
“Making sure Septimus and May are ready for school, sir.” I manage.
Father nods his head, and waits for me to grab my messenger bag, then he follows me to the dining room, where my little brother and sister already sit. Mother stands at the kitchen, scrambling eggs, and flipping pancakes.
Wrapping my arms around her, I gleam, “Good morning.”
“Good morning, June. Can you pull my hair back for me, sweetheart?” she asks.
I do as she asks, staring at her back. She is a beauty I wish I could be. Like her, I have brown skin and a petite body, but the differences stop there. Mother has radiant brown eyes that in the sun, are a golden brown. Her hair is braided in long, wavy, tiny braids that flow down to her back, and she has the most beautiful soft hands. My hands are partly calloused from having to hunt out in the woods to keep my family from starving.  Food is hard to come by these days since the North and South of New Rome are at war. Even the rich have to scavenge for food and save rations. My mother, though skinny, has curves that are perfectly sculptured.-I don’t have any curves. Still, she is brought by the attention of everyone in the city of Ohio. How can such a small lady have three children, and still stay so small? It's the reason no matter how many magazines there are in the North, she's been on the cover of all of them.
When I was little, I was skinnier; almost like a human skeleton. No matter how much I ate, I’d still stay so skinny. My parents would have to take me to the doctor every two weeks to get a checkup. The doctor told them I wasn’t eating enough, but my father told him I was eating just about all day. Finally, the doctor concluded that my metabolism was just overly fast, and that it would catch up with me once I grew to my adolescent age. The doctor was right, but I’m still a little too skinny.
Mother’s done cooking, and I finally sit down beside my brother and sister, waiting for our parents to finish talking. They talk quietly, their eyes flickering towards me every few seconds. Maybe I’m paranoid, but I get the feeling they’re talking about my Test results. If they found out my results and that I didn’t tell them, they’d be very concerned. I guess I am paranoid, because Father instead leans his head down towards Mother. Slowly they kiss, their eyes closed. That’s what I always love about them. Their romance is something beautiful, something extraordinary. I want to love someone like that one day. To find my love, have a family, and no matter what, keep our love strong. But, not right now, of course. I haven’t really cared to get close to someone.
“Eww, gross!” May covers her eyes with both hands.
Our parents pull apart from each other, and smile at my little sister. When she uncovers her face, she turns towards Septimus, my little brother-her big brother-and grins. “At least it’s not my big brother kissing someone this time. But still, to see your parents kissing? That’s just gross.”
Everyone just smiles and shakes their head at her, except for Septimus. He glares at her, blushing. When he runs his hand through his dark curls, May gives him a devilish grin, and he just rolls his green eyes.
Mother lays out the plates of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and squirrel that substitutes for sausage. Then she sits down, and everyone grabs their silverware, and eats their breakfast. I eat what may be my last at this house.
               +                      +                  +

We are on our way to school. My little sister grabs a few daises as we pick other flowers such as lilies, mayflowers, and buttercups before we head to school. They are sweet smelling and nice to give to our teachers.
  Our brother sits on a stone, throwing pebbles into a stream, letting the water ripple before he throws another. Septimus Castor, of course, wouldn’t ever be caught giving flowers to someone. (He has to keep up his “manly looks” as he says. And plus, he’s not that sweet.)
“June, come look at this!” May calls. I strut over to where she’s picking flowers, and see what’s so rare to see nowadays.
The flower is just like I’ve seen in the science textbooks at school. The rose is crimson with delicate petals. I wonder where it comes from, and get the feeling that whoever put it there left it there for a reason. The rose’s stems are healthy, dark green leaves, with strong sturdy brown thorns to protect it.
“We should leave this here, May.” I tell her. “Someone may have wanted it to grow here.” I point around the area that’s side-longed by a railroad track, woods, and other flowers.
May pouts, snickering under her breath. After a second or two, she smiles again. “Okay, whatever.” she says, and though disappointed, her green eyes light up.
“Can we go, now?” Septimus complains. He throws another rock into the stream, letting the stone skip along like a stepping stone.
I take the flowers May and I gathered into my bag, then sling it onto my shoulder before answering Septimus.  “Yeah. We might as well. The tardy bell will be ringing soon.”
The three of us head off towards our school. Today’s the first day of school. For May, it’s her fifth year, since she’s twelve. For Septimus, it’s his eighth. For me, it’s my last year. Since I had turned thirteen, the Len Learning Center announced it will educat ages seven up to seventeen.
  When we reach the gates of Len, three Gatekeepers scan our eyes with a scanner for complete identification and then we are in.
The whole estate of the school is massive, being the richest school in the North. Len Learning Center is surrounded by tons of gardens. The soccer and football fields  surround the Ken Dome Hall, where the whole town of what used to be Ohio watches their games. Simply a school for the rich. The good thing about this school, is that even the poor can come on a scholarship. They get free food, twelve free sets of school uniforms, and school supplies. The bad thing is, people can die here at this school at anytime, any minute, and any day. Break a law, and elite soldiers trained to kill, will come and make an example out of the ones who disobey. They call them Primors.
“Hey, Marty!” May says, waving at one of her friends as we enter the school to register ourselves.
Her friend waves at us as she walks to her locker, her metal-studded boots clacking against the marble floor.
  I grab May’s hand so she won’t get distracted and go talking to her friends before Registration.
   In the Registration lobby, the three of us take a seat separated from each other. - May by her friends from the school’s Drama Club. Septimus by his unlimited variety of friends. And, me, by myself.
People surround the light-dimmed room, their chatter filling the rooms, each student dressed in their school uniforms. We are all waiting for the school’s Lab Division to take our health measures, to make sure that none of us are diseased. I don’t know why. No city of New Rome has had a plague outbreak since the Terra Apocalypse.
"May Castor?" a lady with fair skin and black hair calls.
"That's me." my little sister calls boastfully, and jumps over to where the tall lady stands.
The lady takes her hand and says, "Follow me, Miss May."
"Okay, ma’am." May replies then disappears with the lady and out of the waiting room.
A girl who’s an eighth-year, comes to chat with Septimus, a flirtatious stare on her face. Her name is Jenny Deets. A brown-haired, tall, slender girl, with blue eyes, who looks like she just walked off a cover of a runway magazine. My brother may as well be called one of the most popular boys in school. Since he’s started Len Learning School, he doesn’t have to walk into the building the first day of school, before he has a girlfriend.
Septimus and the girl begin talking, and before I know it, he has his arms around her. I just turn my head and try not to say anything. I’ve never really talked to Jenny Deets, but rumors go around about her. Rumors saying that Septimus is her twelfth boyfriend in one week, but I decide to just ignore rumors. They’re all lies anyways, and besides, they've actually only been seeing each other for a month. Even if this school is militaristic, people still love to plant "juicy" drama.
  Minutes later, another olive-skinned lady dressed in a red silk dress-shirt and a navy blue pencil skirt comes for Septimus. Jenny waves him goodbye, then goes to sit with her friends. Without a word, he leaves, and I am left alone with only the few people I know myself.
There's a girl named Lindy Lieu, who’s wearing diamonds piled on top of her golden hair, despite the possibility that someone could steal them, but no one will ever try. Stealing from Lindy Lieu is punishable by death, as she is the daughter of one of the fairly young officers in New Rome's Militia Division. I don't really talk to Lindy Lieu anyways because she's such an annoying person. We used to be friends.
That’s the thing. I used to be friends with a lot of people. I just don’t see the idea of person still being friends with someone who insults them all the time. That’s just me. When I’m hurt, I don’t say anything. I lock up and isolate myself. Sometimes, I feel like I’m in a world alone. No one to really trust. No one to really tell all my fears or regrets. Not all of my old friends were like this. Some were the kindest to me, but I was too clueless from my blind ignorance to notice that not all of them were cruel. A hypocrite. Too selfish. So, instead I wiped away the pain by closing myself inside of the little box that gave me the only light to hope to a better day. Even if the light led me into the darkness of keeping quiet.
There's Jon Hitman. He's okay. Okay, in the meaning that I pretend he’s not there most of the time. We used to talk to each other when I first moved from my old school that. But we stopped being friends when I caught him talking about me behind my back. I'd yelled at him about how much of a jerk he was, and then slapped him. Maybe I shouldn’t have slapped him so hard, but I am not about to just stand there and let him and his friends joke about my butt. Plus, I was twelve then, I didn't really know how to control my anger.To make it worse, his father ran against my father for a presidential election. Father won and Jon spread rumors about my parents.
For weeks, I endured name-calling and people mumbling behind my backs. (It wasn’t the name-calling that hurt me. It was the feelings of dangerous rage that I forced down inside. As the First Daughter, I am expected to be a role model. I’m not allowed to fight back. I’m only allowed to be the good girl that I am, ignoring the ones who pick at me.) The name-calling stopped when I started to cry in front of the whole school, and the principal called my mother about it. Except for one. Her name was Rachel.
Rachel Cartflower was older than me, and last year, she took her Test and became a Soldier, then left. But she failed her Soldier Training, and went Home. I never heard from her again.
Curiosity got the best of me, and one day, I went to ask her mother in her classroom about her daughter afterschool. She looked at me as if she had seen a ghost. Minutes passed before she finally told me that she hadn’t seen her Rachel since she left for Camp One. After that, I inferred that she ran away from Camp One to become a Refugee. It’s common. Just very illegal if one is caught trying. (Death by firing squad.)
“June Castor?” a man calls for me, dressed in a white nurse’s scrub.
I stand up and let him lead me into a dark tunnel. With the lingering diseases that are still in New Rome today, and with the technology we have, diseases are more likely to come around in the light instead of the dark. That’s why all school buildings are required to have dimmed lights.
Trying to make conversation with me, the nurse asks, “So, Miss June, how are you doing?”
“Doing good.” I say, not bothering to speak properly. “How are you?” To make up for it, I be polite.
  The nurse tells me he’s doing fine, then begins to ask me about my father’s political issues. He doesn’t wait for me to answer when he begins telling me his opinions on Father's military actions. I roll my eyes when I’m behind him, bored, wishing so badly I’d gotten a better nurse. It’s not that he’s annoying, it’s just that I’ve had enough of the weight from others who don’t favor my father very much. If you don’t like my father, don’t tell me. It’s not my father who makes such political decisions; it’s the Lab Division.
For what feels like days, we finally make it to the end of the tunnel, where another door is waiting for its next little patient to enter. The nurse enters a code into the door panel, and he holds the door for me as I head into the lab.
Inside the lab, other student patients lay on lounge chairs, tangles of braided wires sticking out of their arms from the injected needle. Some have electrodes taped to their heads, meaning that they have a fairly unhealthy body, and the doctors need to keep their patient’s brain circulated to keep them from having constant migraines after their Health Tests.
Basically, the lab room looks just like what a lab room should look like.-White furniture, computers, wire lining on about almost everything inside the room, nurses and doctors in white lab coats, etc. There’s just one thing out of place.
  My hair stands up on end. I go stiff, and clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms. He’s not supposed to be here.
The Soldier stands in the front of the room, dressed in the navy blue jumpsuit, black boots, and a red brimmed black hat that young commanders are supposed to wear. When he catches my stare though he wears sunglasses, I can feel his gaze piercing through me. For a second, I am frozen.
Why is he here? A Commander is not supposed to start recruiting until…
Oh. Idiot. He’s coming for me. Right after I take my health checkup and pass, he will monitor how I do in all my classes, (especially physical education) then he will then tell me I have six hours to tell my parents my Test results. After that, he or some other military recruiter will come and take me from my home and all my family.
Be tough, June. A voice in my head reminds me.
Listening to it, I take a deep breath, clenching my fists, and lie down on the chair. With my head held high and stiff, I boldly hold out my left wrist. The nurse wipes it with a cold antiseptic wipe, carefully making sure my wrist is completely clean before he inserts the needle into my veins.
Slowly.
That’s how it goes.
I feel…
I fall into darkness.

“Hold my hand, June!”
“Okay!”
The faceless blonde boy has his hand held out in front of me, a wide smile on his face. I take it, and let him pull me through the pond.
The water is not cold. Which is weird, since puffs of snow fall to the ground like sleeping white rain. The water is warm, as if it’s been heated by the spring sun and not the sun of winter. Like the boy’s radiance is warming the water by magic.
I take a deep breath, letting him pull me onto an ancient American-styled canoe.
The scary thing isn’t that this dream is taking me somewhere new. The scary thing is that I can’t hear anything. My mouth doesn’t even open, when the boy kisses me on the cheek. A shiver runs up my spine so fast that I don’t think I even need my jacket anymore. Little kids shouldn’t be even having thoughts like this.
“June,” the no-faced boy says.
My mouth allows itself to open so that I can say this: “Yes, Jacob?”
Never… Never have I ever called the boy a name. Now that I do, it makes my hairs stand up on end.
“I love you.” The boys who may be named,Jacob, nervously tells me; stuttering with long blonde eyelashes fluttering.
I stand frozen. I almost scream. Not screaming in fear, but in the act of realization.
Finally… finally his face comes into view. His eyes are a bluish-gray. The kind of color that reminds you a stormy, beautiful, sea just before the thunder comes rumbling in. The boys has fine features. - Tanned skin to the point where it is light, but not too light… not dark or brown either. His lips are a light pink that remind me of peonies; the flowers that grow in my mother’s backyard garden in the month of May.
“I love you, too, Jacob.” I find myself saying.
Sadly, before anything else happens, I am awoken, and the young Commander with his aviators on the bridge of his nose, and the nurse are standing over me.
The nurse smiles, and I wonder if he gets paid to be so happy all the time, even though he’s obviously not. Not with this war going on.
“Miss Castor, you’re all ready, and healthy. Commander Blue is ready to take you away.”

Outside of the nurse’s office, I follow Commander Blue. As I do, I stare intensely at him. His slender and tall form. The perfect swagger as he walks. The way that his fist are clenched; tightly, but not nervously. The way his firm-pressed uniform doesn’t swish when he walks. Commander Blue is perfect and precise with everything about him.
We pass so many halls, I don’t even bother looking. Even though this will be my last time walking through Len Learning Center, I force myself not to. Soldiers need to keep going, not worry about the past, or even linger, on anything. A Soldier doesn’t know when they’ll exactly die. They could die anytime. Any moment. Any day. Any night. So I will have to be strong, and keep passing like every day will be my last. It pains me to think this, but I block it out...
   I flinch when he turns around.
“You have six hours, Cadet.” Commander Blue says. “A Lab Division  Vehicle of Transportation will transport you from your house to Camp One.”
I can only nod. On the outside, I must look stone-faced and calm. On the inside, I am screaming at the top of the lungs. I feel like I’m going to collapse right now onto the ground, and never stop screaming. Like the South has invaded right now, and they’re going to kill both my family and me in cold blood. Like the world has really completely come to an end, and it’s about to explode. Like human kind has reached its expiration date completely.
But while I think this, I force myself to keep this inside too. I am a Soldier now.