In the city of Vir girls are property, bred and raised to be the perfect wives. To serve and obey and honor the men that rule their city.
Elaia has always been content with her place in society. She is a perfect daughter, and with any luck she'll b...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
------- ELAIA -------
It's been more than a week since Castine asked Francisco to find out what the wildflower society is. So far, we've heard nothing from him. I know we need to give him time, but I don't know how much time we have. Kres was awfully worried about this factory place he spoke of. I don't want to get sent there.
"Elaia, are you paying attention?" miss Allery asks me sweetly, pulling me from my thoughts.
I shift in my seat before meeting her gaze. "Oh, yes, ma'am," I stutter, giving her a small smile. She eyes me a moment longer before turning back to the lesson. I try to listen but my attention wanders back to my previous thoughts. About the wildflower society. About what happened to Trinia. About the factory.
It occurs to me that I was never this distracted the first time I was here. I don't remember ever getting called out for not paying attention last time. I wonder if it's because this is my second time here. Or maybe it's because something has changed in me.
I see things differently now. I didn't even know I was being abused but after what happened to Trinia, I see all of it now. The way they talk to us and dismiss our words; the way they hit us or scream at us when we're not cooperating. The threat of being sent back for re-education is always looming over our heads. A reminder that they can take whatever they want from us, and we can't do anything about it. None of it is right.
"Men want a quiet, modest, submissive, well-mannered girl." Miss Allery's words break through my thoughts. quiet, modest, submissive, well-mannered. I've heard these words all my life, and I can't even read them. But they've been drilled into me over and over and over as if that alone could make me believe them. But they forgot that actions speak louder than words.
"Class is dismissed," I hear miss Allery say. I get up from my seat, lost in my thoughts.
"You okay?" Castine asks, joining me in the hall as we walk to quiet time.
I nod. "Yes, I was just thinking," I reply.
She nods. "Yeah, when do you think we'll graduate?" She asks, but I know she's only making small talk. We're planning on finding away out of here long before we can graduate. Long before they can send us off to the factory.
"The average stay here is about three months, but Mr. Morrison will probably keep you here for four or five," I reply.
She nods again, irritation painting itself across her features. "See you in an hour," she says as we reach the small rooms they force us into for an hour every day.
I step inside, the smooth glass doors sliding shut behind me as I kneel down on the ground, closing my eyes. I hear the singular tick that lets me know the timer has started and then I let myself drift away into a world where Kres and I are happy. Where the facility doesn't exist, and there is no terrible place, either. A world where the people at the camps don't have to be locked up. Kres and I walk hand-in-hand through the city and It's as though we're floating. Like we're walking on clouds.
