The Trial

Chapter 4 - Edited

The other children, it isn't easy to remember the change from child to associate, are on different gray buses as they prepare to leave the orphanage. They're segregated by nothing more than the color robe that has been chosen for them and all show excitement on their faces as they wait in line to board. Only one of fifty stays behind and there's hope in her blue eyes that she won't really be left behind.

It doesn't take long to learn that even a state associate has certain benefits, since I'm the only one heading towards a real car. As forty-eight associates reach their designated buses and start to board the dull gray, I'm pressed by the citizen choosers towards a black car that sparkles under the light from above. This is the greatest day of my life, just as long as she doesn't get too close and tries to eat me before we're inside.

I'd forgotten just how easily it was to impress me back then. To me, this is just one car of many and not a very good car considering the lack of state driver. There's a thin layer of something crusted on the outside and I wish I could stop myself from touching it, but not even this necessity does anything other than bring back the headache.

I see a shadow of myself in the dirty window, but don't take time to stare at the reflection lying behind. Staring at oneself is making oneself more important than the state and that makes it anti-revolutionary. Even if I want to look at my reflection, the door opens before I have a chance and feel a hand push me hard from behind.

If I had my voice, I'd tell my younger self this is just the beginning and far from the best, but it would fall on deaf ears and wouldn't matter if I were able to shout it from the nearest rooftop. You're too in awe of a car and it shows. The seat's almost as hard as the metal and the cracks in the upholstery are more than a little irksome, but you take no notice of anything.

It's funny to think about, but how many times were we told comfort wasn't what the state wanted as we were punished. It still confuses me, since I never knew when something would be permitted by the state and when it wouldn't. One day I'd be praised and told I made the state proud and the next day I'd be punished for doing the exact same thing.

I don't hate the teachers for what they did, since I know it never occurred to them to question anything. As a child, I despised every last one of them and came very close to disappearing on more than one occasion. The lesson most valuable to me, beyond the inability to trust the state, was keeping quiet about everything. Punishments come and go, but those lessons remained until the moment of my death. Perhaps I should rethink that last part, since I'm dead and still recall the lessons that helped me to survive within the state.

The door slams shut and something falls from the roof onto my head. I don't know which caused me to jump, but all that matters is I jumped and it's going to get me eaten. They don't use cars for that, since they aren't big enough. It's still safer in the car than in the orphanage, which is the only reason I'm not running for my life right now.

I start to relax a little as both choosers get into the front. That nasally voice is on the passenger side and he's grumbling about having to drive me somewhere, but neither has told me anything. As long as I'm back here and she's up there, I'm safe.