Lyla doesn't remember anything. All she knows is that the Republic took her under their wing after the Merging Process. Now, she is training to become the greatest Republican there is. However, the voices in her head don't seem to die down as time p...
"Hey Rebecca," I settled into my seat. "How's your day?"
"Funny you should ask," She smiled wryly. "How will your day be?"
"Oh, you know," I shrugged casually, straightening out the pleats in my skirt. "The usual stuff." Which included jumping off buildings, sneaking out of the headquarters, potentially setting off security alarms, searching for confidential information, and attending Revolution meetings.
"Interesting," She mused. Then, she clapped her hands together, drawing the attention of the class to her.
"So," Rebecca announced. "Today's theme will be the Starvation Period. You can do whatever you want on it, so long the topic is relevant."
Letting my materials spill on the table, I picked up a pencil and let my hand wander freely across the blank piece of paper. Somehow, it just didn't feel right. Of course. Lyla used her left hand. Quickly switching to my other hand, I let my instincts take flight. The drawing soon took form: Clusters, no, crowds of people were barging into the rations shop. Slabs of meat hung across the walls like trophies on display, but none were for them.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
My sweaty palms shoved the drawing away and started a new one. Each stroke was precise, accurate but swift. It was a spotless minimalist room. Tubes, conical flasks, clamps, glass jars, burners, and tubes were neatly stacked at the back. At the front, rows of syringes filled with eerie-looking liquids were lined up in correspondence to their colour. Synthesizers.
"What's that?" Rebecca asked, her fingernails drumming on my table. My head snapped up, hastily covering them up, but it was too late, she had already seen it.
Her fingers curiously reached for my drawings, plucking them out of my grasp. I kept my eyes duly trained on her as she mulled over my drawings, occasional "oohs" and "aahs" escaping from her lips.
"You're a good artist," She remarked, handing them back to me. "The grittiness provides a sort of atmosphere to it."
"Thanks," I nodded as she typed something into her Tabloid and placed it upwards on my table for me to see.
Don't let anyone else see it. You can use it for the Revolution though.
I swiftly typed another message beneath hers. You going to the Affluents?
"I'm a little busy today," She replied casually, wiping her glasses on her ironed plaid shirt. "But I'll know if anything interesting happens."
"Sure," I nodded, carefully slipping the two papers into the pocket of my duffel bag.
------
"As I've said before, we've been rallying up our numbers," Jordan announced. "But that isn't enough. People need to know the truth about the Republic. They need to understand things from our viewpoint. A member of ours today has braved through the Merging Process and now stands here with evidence of what truly happened during the Starvation Period."
