Divinity

Chapter 2

I can't breathe. I don't want to breathe. It would be much simpler if I wasn't breathing. My problems would go away. I could live a simpler life somewhere else. I don't want to breathe.

A tall man in a polished white uniform stands in front of me. To his right is a woman with long hair and piercing grey eyes like mine. They both glare at me accusingly. I feel like a small animal about to be carried off to the slaughter house and they're hiding the knife behind their backs, waiting for the right chance to strike.

"Maylin Ray Hale?" the woman says. Her voice is cold and seductive, like her grey eyes.

I nod, convinced if I open my mouth, I'll puke. Mother still has no idea what's going on. I can hear her rummaging through a drawer in the kitchen behind me. I wonder what life would be like if I lived my wildest fantasies. It would be a nightmare, like the one I'm living now.

"And today you turn 15, am I correct?" the man says. He has brown eyes and a military- style haircut, but when I look closely, I see his hair is a dark brown to match his eyes.

A million thoughts cross my mind at once. Should I lie? No. What's the point?

I mutter a quiet yes in reply. I notice the man is holding a clipboard and pen, and, as I confirm my age, he hurriedly writes something down on it. I feel like he's writing my death warrant.

"Daughter of Kiera Anne Hale and the deceased Callum Cole Hale?" the woman questions. I hate her tone. I've done nothing wrong, but she makes me feel as if I've committed a crime and she's just waiting for me to confess it.

The deceased Callum Cole Hale.

Deceased. I immediately hate her for saying it. My father was never loving. If anything, he was abusive, but the fact that he was my father makes me want to hide in a corner and cry every time someone mentions his death. Even if he was the one who caused it.

After confirming this, they both raise their eyebrows in amazement. My father's name is some sort of legend around here, though not the good kind. No one will soon forget the two lives he took. One was his, the other my sweet, innocent little brother, Bamber.

Oh, how I miss them both.

"You are aware today is Divinity, are you not?" the man spits. I realize I hate him too. I hate him and his partner and the terrible job they've been forced to do. And I hate the reason they do it- beauty, which can buy anything but the happiness they're so desperately searching for, like every other citizen.

And, amazed by the clarity of my voice, I speak.

"Yes, sir," I declare. It is not mocking, but somehow not respectful either. I'm surprised it comes out of me.

"We'll give you a few minutes to say goodbye."

I turn to my mother, who's stopped what she's doing and is looking up at me. I'm shocked to see tears in her eyes. She knows. She must know this is the last time I'll see her.

I swiftly walk over to her arms, which are so familiar. She embraces me and awkwardly pets my head as I cry. I don't care who's watching, because people certainly are. All I care about is making this moment last, because it will be the final time we meet.

"Maylin," she whispers. It's barely audible, but I hear it, and it makes me cry even harder. My face is already stained with the salty tears that keep coming. My chest quickly rises up and down as I let out rapid breaths.

Why did I break down so easily? I don't know. It won't continue. I stand up straight and wipe the tears off my face with the back of my hand. I put my hands on her shoulders and shake her, attempting to bring her to reality, and it seems to work. Her eyes pierce into mine, fully alert.

"Listen to me," I command, my voice tense and unforgiving. Mother seems shocked by my intensity. "I'm going to leave. But you have move on and forget about me, okay?" There's no other advice I can give, but I see it's useless, because she won't forget about me. I know she won't. She'll feel more lonely than she does now. She has battles, but now she won't have someone to fight them with. I will be gone.

"I don't know if I can, Maylin," she whispers as she presses her forehead to mine. I can feel the tears coming but they will not show, I am determined of that. And we stay there, gripping each others clammy hands, foreheads pressed against each other in dead silence, speaking words we've always wanted to say to each other in our minds until my time is up and the Officials are pulling me away from my mother.

And I realize the very last thing I want to do is leave her.

"Your time is up Ms. Hale. We need you to leave."

I will not scream. I will not fight. I will not struggle or resist in any way because I know I will never win. Two against one. The odds are not in my favor and I don't want to test them. Mother needs to see me leave with my head held high, refusing to give in, instead of a hysterical girl screaming her head off and struggling to release the iron grip on both of her feeble arms. No, that will not be me.

They forcefully grab both of my arms and lead me toward the door. It seems strange they're leading me out of my own house. They're treating me like I broke into theirs.

I obediently walk with them, keeping up with their long strides. The hard grip on my arm suggests that they expect me to run, but my arms hang lifelessly to my side. I will not run. I just look back at my still mother as they lead me outside in the rain.

The last thing I see before they slam the door shut is a tear streaming down her pale face.

*****

I stare straight ahead as the freezing rain pours down on my shaking body. I will not give in. I will not scream. This is the final time I can still be myself, unpolished and flawed, and I want it to be memorable and rebellious. Me.

I hear a shriek to my left and look over to see who made it. A few houses down from mine lives Willow, a girl in my year. At school she constantly breaks down and cries, either from stress or some unknown weight in her chest, so she was brutally nicknamed 'Weeping Willow.' Not exactly kind, if you ask me, but it could be worse.

Willow is resisting. Her escorts are attempting to pin her arms behind her shaking back, but it's futile because she keeps tugging her arm away from their grasp. The tears in her eyes are blocking her vision, so she's tripping over her own feet as she screams at the top of her lungs.

"Let me go!" she shrieks, pulling away from the iron grip on her once-free arm. "No!" Her voice is strained and she finally gives in, realizing what I already have- she's outnumbered. Willow falls down onto her knees as the freezing rain falls on her shaking body. She gave up.

Then I gasp as her escorts mercilessly yank her body up with their bare hands and drag her across the pavement until she voluntarily gets up and cooperates with their swift movements.

This is not right. It is all so cruel.

I'm pulled back to reality as I am suddenly pushed forward, the tense grip on my arms finally released. I realize I am being pushed into a large truck with about twenty people from my year loaded onto it. Not one of the girls isn't crying. All of the boys are tensely staring at the wall, their faces emotionless, but I can see it in their eyes that they're hurting. We are all hurting.

I clumsily climb in and sit on the grimy floor with my other Divinity initiates and look around, tears blurring my vision. The truck is large, and, besides the helpless children sitting on the ground, empty, with a single window. It has bars on it, so the rain pours in on the ground and soaks the wooden floor. The front of the truck, not visible to me but obviously there, is probably occupied by two officials who will drive us to President Hart's mansion. There Divinity will take place. I realize how cold it is in here.

And, as the escorts push a shaking Willow on, the last initiate, I realize how alone I feel. My mother is forever gone, therefore I am forever lost.

The only thing I can do to resist from screaming is to stare determinedly at the wall, refusing to think about Divinity and what's to come and thinking about nothing else.