Broken Glass

Part I

Even with the hot sun beating down onto my head, making my hair stick to my neck, I am determined to get to the well and fill my buckets with water. It isn't every day that there is cold water, and it is a luxury that few are able to experience in The City of Broken Glass, one of the hottest places in our country.

There is quite a bit of noise and pushing as I wait with the other women to get to it. Ragged children run around playing games that I haven't played in years, since I am almost considered an adult in our society. The ground is hot against my bare feet, and I am beginning to get irritated, wishing the line would move a bit faster.

Suddenly, I feel cool hands on my shoulders and cool lips touching my ear. “You know, you could come and get some from my house so you don't have to wait with all of the poor people,” a very familiar voice whispers. I let out a little laugh and turn to the voice. It's Sean. My love of the last three years and also my life. I plant a small kiss on his smooth lips, careful not to let anyone else see, since kissing in public isn't exactly encouraged.

“Nah, that's okay. I think I'll stay with my own kind,” I reply, keeping the conversation light, something I usually try to do. Sean chuckles, and strokes my hair.

“Well, when you get done, come by my house. We'll eat supper and then I have something to show you, okay?”

“Fine.” He smiles at me one last time and walks off, towards the richer areas of The City of Broken Glass. He's the governor's son, so he won't have a far walk to the Governor's Mansion, situated right on the town square. I, however, live a decent walk away from here, since I am part of an average family: a father, away at the war that has shattered our country to pieces; and a mother, trying to get our family by in a world that is as far away from easy as the earth is from the sun. But she does her best, and we don't live nearly as terribly as some.

Finally, finally, finally, I reach the well. I let some of the water trickle into my parched mouth before filling the buckets to the rim, not letting any of it go to waste. I grab my buckets and walk off, satisfied. Mother will be happy.

I nod to and greet some of the people that I know while I walk to my house. Girls my age, little children, and kind women like my mother. Most of them are widows, and none of them are very old. But that's the reality of the harsh world we live in. There has been a war going on for decades, longer than anyone alive can remember, and every male in the country must fight in it for twenty years. In fact, I, just like most uninformed citizens, don't have a clue what we are fighting over anymore, which is pretty sad, considering the amount of our men that die in it. I actually don't know where my father is or if he's even alive. We don't get news, and my mother and I haven't seen him in three years, on his annual vacation, the one that all of the men get at the week of the birth of our Savior, in late December. We have accepted the fact that he is probably dead, although I sometimes hear my mother cry in her bedroom at night, most likely over him.

I finally make it back to our house. It's simple, like everyone's. Two floors, five rooms. I wipe my feet off with a wet rag that my mother has set by the door and open the rickety wooden screen door quietly. Today, my mother is teaching children to read at our kitchen table. About two years ago, the government finally decided that the war was more important than citizen education, so they closed all of the schools in the country. Luckily for me, the year they closed the schools was the last year of my education, so I didn't miss out on anything. But the younger generation, they won't get to learn anything. That's why for a silver coin, my mother gives a two hour reading lesson and a hot meal at our house on Saturdays .

I take my buckets over to the kitchen area and set them down on the counter. I slice myself some bread from a loaf sitting near the hearth, and eat it while I watch the children read little poems slowly out of my old textbook. I smile a little bit. I love children, and I hope to have a house full of them one day. I don't have any siblings, so I don't spend much time with children.