I stare at my reflection in the window, watching tiny raindrops scatter the pane. Dark clouds stretch over the area so that only a spec of sun light is seen by the eye. I catch a glimpse of it, and then it hides itself behind the grey. Grey. The only color I see at the moment, and it cascades over a woodland glade. The luscious green swamp that sprouts color after color is shadowed by the grey.
I press my nose against the glass and then quickly jerk away. The pane is wet and cold, the kind of cold that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight up, and it keeps me indoors all day long. I rub my nose with my sleeve and bite my bottom lip... I hate the grey.
The light from the kitchen reflects off of the window so I am able to see my reflection. My chestnut waves that drape down my shoulders are slightly matted and my hazel eyes look bloodshot and dreadful. My jean dress is torn at the rim but unnoticeable. My old friend; Esme, offered to sew it up a while back ago, but I declined. It's not like I'm going anywhere soon. I can't, the Protectors of the Peace forbid it.
I hear my sister's voice from the hallway. She bounces around the corner; barefoot, and enters the kitchen.
"Mom?" She asks, "Do you need help preparing the dinning table?" my mother turns around and gives her a sweet smile at her. Of course; it must be because she has on her new dinning overalls and her hair in a french braid - as ordered.
Everyone in our Society has dress code schedules; Evening, Noon, and Morning. The Protectors of the Peace are convinced that for everyone in our Society to survive a long and happy life, we have to have areas, dress code, and boundaries. The areas are different sections of the Society where people live. They are categorized alphabetically by surname. The ones that start with 'A' all live in Area 1. The ones that start with 'B' live in Area 2. The ones that start with 'C' live in Area 3, and so on. My surname being 'Paige', I along with my family live in Area 16. The Protectors of the Peace don't allow you to communicate with anybody outside the boundaries of your Area. They also don't allow citizens under the age of 18 go outside of their homes. Once you are 18, you can go outside of your home but only to gather crops, herbs, wash clothes, gather fresh water from the well, or trade valuables for meat. This way, there is no way for anyone to fight and the peace remains.
The dress code is to prevent jealousy. The Protectors of the Peace believe that if people were free to wear whatever they wished to, people could become envious of what they were wearing - which of course would create arguments and the peace would be destroyed. It's also so that nobody can dress trashy or choose their clothing too lightly. The Dress Code law really sends me over the edge. It's stupid - and the Protectors realize that. But do they tweak it? No. Not at all.
The boundaries are basically restrictions on what citizens in our society can and can't do. For instance, citizens under the age of 18 can't go outside of their homes, citizens 18 or older can go outside but only for basic needs, citizens can't travel outside of their Area, citizens can't break dress code, citizens can't hunt animals unless given permission from the Protectors of the Peace, etc. Really, we only have a few things we can do.
Morning - Maternal: Casual pale blue dress, white flats, and high ponytail. Paternal: white long sleeve, grey vest, white tie, light grey slacks, white shoes. Daughter: (Oldest) white shirt, jean overalls, white flats, french braid. (Youngest) casual jean dress, white leggings, silver flats, wavy curls.
Evening - Maternal: casual jean dress, blue leggings, white flats, evening pearls, bun. Paternal: pale blue long sleeve, white vest, white tie, grey slacks, grey shoes. Daughter: (Oldest) casual grey dress, white flats, wavy curls. (Youngest) Pale blue shirt, jean overalls, silver flats, high ponytail.
Noon - Maternal: white shirt, grey overalls, grey flats, wavy curls. Paternal: grey long sleeve, pale blue vest, white tie, grey slacks, white shoes. Daughter: (Oldest) casual jean dress, grey leggings, silver flats, bun. (Youngest) casual white dress, silver flats, french braid.
The sons have dress code too, but my older brother died at the tender age of twenty (I was ten when he died and my sister was fourteen) so I'm not going to get into that. The Protectors of the Peace allow the females to wear their hair down while they sleep if they wish to... however if your morning dress code includes wavy curls, they will have to curl it in the morning - which is hard to do. So, I always keep my hair in the french braid. You aren't allowed to be barefoot (which was exactly what my sister was when she bounced around the corner) until lights out... but sometimes, my mother lets it slide. And, she has never been caught doing it... at least not yet.
"I have it Avril, but thank you." my mother tells my sister. Avril nods and sits in her chair at the breakfast table. Avril is four years older than me. You would think that she would pick on me for being younger but she doesn't. Avril has never picked on me once in her life, nor has she picked on anyone else in our Area. In fact, everybody adores her. She is no doubt the kindest, most generous person anyone has ever met. She and mom go down to the homeless shelter every Sunday to give them fresh crops that we grew in our garden. The Society chooses one mother and daughter from every Area to go and feed the people in the homeless shelter. I'm pretty convinced that the Protectors of the Peace chose my mom and Avril for Area 16 on purpose - even THEY love her. It's supposed to be chosen random from a computer program, but the Protectors of the Peace aren't particularly big on their promises. However, they always follow through on their law that only mothers with daughters of age can go down to the shelter. I'm still not of age yet, I'm only fourteen. But I'm not really sure that I ever want to go down to the shelter with mom. The thought of all of those orphans and homeless families that are practically rotting to death in the shelter just frightens me. I just can't bare to watch them starving and bleeding (not to mention being locked up in the shelter). It's not easy for me to watch. I can't even look outside the window at the Shelter without getting chills and an overwhelming shock of guilt. Avril can spend a week in there though. She is brave and loving and would risk her life to save all of those wounded, homeless families. But no matter how hard I try, I just can't. I'm too tender on the inside. I have a soft center and a big heart. I would cry off half my body weight if I ever stepped foot inside the shelter.
I turn back around and rest my head on my knee. I gaze out the window pane, it's raining much harder now, so hard that it's hard to see out the window. It makes the grey outside blurry, but every raindrop that pounds against the pane gives me goosebumps. I lean in closer to the window and leave breath marks on the glass. I wipe it away with my sleeve and slide myself of of the ledge. I take in a deep breath and I make my way to the dining table.
