The Forgotten

Family Crest

Each day is the same. Sort laundry, throw laundry in washer, place it in the dryer, and then fold every individual item. When we have a full box, bring it to the room it belongs in. Rain begs me each day to tell stories about my time outside of the house and on the streets. I tell her every detail from my first experience to the time I was bit by a dog for no reason. Her reactions are all over the board, but in the end, she is always begging for more stories. I feel bad. She hasn't left the property in six years.
"So what exactly sent you down here? Must have been pretty bad."
I shrug and set the little dress I folded into the box.
"I stole some money from a rich prissy woman. Someone caught me and Fish snitched on me to Archer. He wasn't so happy about the whole thing, so he sent me down here with you two."
"First time getting punished, obviously."
The snide comment comes from Keagan, who is busy transferring clothes from the washer to the dryer. I stop folding the shirt in my hand and look at him instead.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"You clearly haven't suffered a real punishment if you are complaining this much about having to do the laundry."
"That's none of your business."
He continues his task as he speaks.
"Do you know what they do to people who are really in trouble? They brand and banish them."
"Keagan stop."
He doesn't flinch at Rain's voice. He throws the last article of clothing into the dryer, closing the door and starting it.
"They take them out to the hotbox and reveal their tattoo. Then, the take a red hot cattle prod and press it against the tattoo, marking them permanently."
"But what if the person doesn't have a tattoo."
He answers without missing a beat, his eyes swirling with unidentifiable emotions.
"Everybody gets a tattoo. They choose when they think you are strong enough and they mark you, claiming you as one of their own."
"What is the tattoo of?"
"The family crest."
The family crest, a melting human brain, represents how the world around us hands their thoughts over to the corrupt society around them, reducing their brains to mush. I've seen a few members with a tattoo of the crest, but I just assumed it was their choice. The higher ranking members such as Jane and Archer have a tattoo of a brain encased in steel along with the melting brain.
"So before you complain about the miniscule punishment of laundry duty, think about how much worse it could actually be for you."
The conversation ends there and the room falls silent except for the rattling of the dryer.