An Imaginary Line

Chapter One: Introductions & Institutions

The already battered-up leather satchel slid across the gravel, creating a cloud of dusty earth that the breeze picked up and carried away. The bearer of this satchel didn't notice, as she was quite disagreeably engaged at the time. Her hat and phone, also among the disturbed, were passed around as the group of good-for-nothing men inspected them.

"Nothing to say, then, cog?" one asked, as a crafty smile grew in both size and malice on the one side of his face. This revealed the long, yellow teeth which were nearly as crooked as the creature who bore them.

"Hey. This phone's actually all right. Who'd you steal it from?" asked another.

Harper, who one might call the victim in this situation, stood among them, motionless. One might go so far as to call her stance and facial serenity powerful, or at least calculating. Others might possibly see it in an entirely different light. For example:

"She stupid or something?" asked the crooked man, an incredulous chuckle escaping as he spoke.

"Maybe she doesn't use the words," replied another, in a mocking tone. "Ain't a cog in the world who's ever picked up a book, y'know."

They continued back and forth with their painfully uninspired witticisms, laughing obnoxiously, and having an all-around good time. When they were barely able to contain themselves any longer, Harper's face softened ever so slightly. It wasn't a smile, but an observant person might be able to catch the fact that she was laughing--at least on the inside. Unfortunately, there was such a person among the group.

"What are you so happy about?" shouted the first man in anger and confusion. "We're laughing at you! So take it! You just have to take it!"

The other men stood aboutinanely, confused and irresolute. They were comprehensive idiots, and that fact didn't escape Harper's notice—it was too ridiculous for her to contain. Her unfathomable amusement, which took the form of a deep, gutteral chuckle, had barely seeped through her cerulean lips before the clever man nodded to the man on her right, who then smashed her on the head with his briefcase.

The girl fell to the ground, lifeless. Her vacant expression was now more endurable to her assailants.

"Gah!" the clever one shouted, frustrated and fed up. "Let's get what we came for and get out. This camp feels more... Fester-y than usual."

It began to drizzle. The minutes ticked by unobserved as tiny, sharp droplets, along with a drop in temperature, pelted the young woman who lie immobile on the gravel.

Eventually the girl woke up in a shiver. Head aching, she rubbed her eyes and gradually remembered. As she did, a figure approached.

"Well get up," shouted the woman from afar.

Harper rolled to her side and then onto her knees, wobbling up unsteadily.

"Huh?" She questioned, eyebrows raised. She squinted to get a better picture. She punched her legs a few times to toughen them up. "Oh, Ma, what you doin' out here?"

"Debris collection over by the mill. They've got us pushing our own carts now, you know. Oh--And curfew's been moved up to 9 now that they've moved some offices on site. So be back by then, if you know what's good for you."

Ma was one of the first workers assigned to this camp when it was opened. She looked out for the others. She was the glue that kept everyone together, whether such interference was welcome or not. She wasn't afraid to knock a few heads together to make sure there was cooperation. And for that, everyone owed her the relative peace of the camp, and forthat, everyone called her Ma.

Harper nodded vacantly while looking around this clearing in the trees. Ma's eyes remained locked on the girl.

"How many?" she asked.