Forgotten

Chapter 1

            THE ALARM CLOCK HAS BEEN BROKEN FOR WEEKS.

            I stare up at the flaky popcorn ceiling above me for a while, and then turn over, watching for the first sign of sunrise.

            It appears, just a hint of golden glow shooting infinitesimal rays of light over the crest of the horizon. It's small enough to be a tiny sun charm I could cup in the palm of my hand, straining to get a glimpse of the world and cast its shining rays on it, bringing some life to the ruined cities and lonely towns that are all that's left of the western territories.

            And I realize that it's time to get up.

            I have no idea what time it is, thanks to the stupid alarm clock, but I'm guessing it's late enough. I turn over to wake Liana, whose black hair falls over her shoulders as they rise and fall peacefully with sleep. Even sleeping, she's so beautiful that I feel a twinge of envy.

            I reach over and press the back of my hand to her bare arm. She heaves a breath and rolls over, turning away from me. "Go back to sleep, Stella," she murmurs.

            "It's Assignment Day."

            That's all I need to say. Liana blinks open one eye, then sighs in surrender and sits up. She rubs her eyes and stares at me sleepily. "Okay, go get dressed," she yawns.

            My closet has only about ten articles of clothing in it, but it's still my pride and joy. I carefully scan and rifle through its contents. Jeans and a white blouse will make a good impression on the bureaucrats. On Assignment days, you want to show up with some decent clothes and a big smile. If the bureaucrats suspect that you're not doing well at home, they might take you in for questioning or postpone your Cleansing procedure.

            After changing, I don a black rain jacket and comb out the mess of tangles in my hair. Liana is already ready when I'm done. She looks gorgeous, with her perfect, shining locks of hair tucked behind her head in an elaborate braid and pinned to her scalp. She's wearing a navy blue dress with a cinched waist and a dark sweater. Feeling inferior, I pull my chocolate brown hair back into a ponytail after we lace up our boots and head out. 

            "Where do you get those clothes?" I grumble as we walk swiftly along the street. Not that they'd look good on me, I add in my head.

            Liana smiles, but doesn't look at me. "The marketplace has a nice selection of dresses if you know what to look for."

            Liana and I aren't sisters, but we might as well be. We take care of the homestead at 33 Wakefield Avenue, and we'll live there until our eighteenth birthdays: the day our Cleansing procedure will commence.

            I'm seventeen years and eight months old, and I'm just counting down the days.

            It's about half an hour's walk to the town square, and Liana and I take it quickly, with practiced, synchronized steps. The pavement is old and worn like everything in Darrington, with covered-up manholes every few yards on both sides of the road. The sidewalks are torn up and broken, but we have no need for them now. They say that they used to drive cars on these old roads, and people used to walk on the sidewalks. There are no working cars left in the western provinces, though, so all the children walk freely on the roads.

            On Assignment Days, we don't usually talk much, but today I feel the need for conversation. As the sun starts to yawn above the horizon, a crisp morning breeze stirs the cool air and spurs a pile maple leaves into a tornado of dance. Their vibrant frolicking fills me with energy and anticipation.