Escaping DEMA

~Tylers POV~

Everyone is obedient here. No questions are asked, no sideways glances are given to the person beside you as if to ask (Do you think this is strange to?.) You go to work or school depending on age, complete your duties, go home, sleep, and repeat. Its always felt wrong to me, us the workers living in small homes barely making enough to get by, while the Nine live in a large elegant tower at the end of the trench just watching...

The Nine are our leaders, they spend there days watching our every move making sure we don't step out of place, that we don't step out of our lanes. They wear these god awful red hoods that make there bodies look large and intimidating, the leader wearing a mesh face covering that makes his face look blurry and disfigured. They do not miss much, if you break one of the sacred rules of their religion you are cast away to a dark place, in the old days they called places like this jail, but this place it is not free meals and healthcare, no if you are sent here you are never coming back. You will be tortured and starved until your dispare.

I yearn to escape, I yearn to be free. It is time to get up now, it is time to wake up and finish this day. I dress myself with the official garb opting for the longsleave grey rag today since there is a bit of a chill in the air, I don't want to get cold while out in the fields it is not good to get sick in the trench, your family has to make up for what you are not able to gather. The men in my family are categorized as fieldsman. My father, brother, and I go to the crops everyday along with the other Fieldsman and harvest food for the town, well most of it goes to the watchers for there fancy gatherings and what not, but I prefer to think of us doing this for the town, for the children and parents to have at there tables.

When you graduate you are categorized into 9 different careers.

-Seamstress

-Fieldsman

-Merchant

-Security

-Hunter

-Record Keeper

-Teacher

-engineer

-watchers apprentice

My mother is a Teacher, she doesn't blink an eye about having to teach those ridiculous rules, shes like a robot, cold and uncaring. My sister is a wiz with a sewing needle so of course they categorized her as a seamstress, not just any seamstress shes "The seamstress," she was chosen to be at the hand of the Nine, their personal seamstress, A true honor. As I've said before the men in my family were all categorized as fieldsman. I tried so hard to become a record keeper, I kept my grades high. I was first in class actually, when I stood at the podium I had no doubt in my mind that I would be chosen as anything else but. I was proud of my grades I worked hard for them, so you can understand my dispare when I was called out as a fieldsman. The lowest of the low.

                                                           ~  Authors Note~

Yes I realize I suck at writing so please don't be hurtful, but please leave suggestive comments on how I can make my story better! I am taking inspiration from TwentyOnePilots new Era, but I will be taking liberties with this story so don't come at me if something is different then what Tyler and josh are doing/ conveying in there own story they are telling us through their  beautiful music. Also I've got a Drinking game for you. Take a shot every time I said seamstress in that last paragraph.