Claire

A golden ray illuminates my cell, the only light in my otherwise dark world. Its stone walls are just as gloomy as always. My bed, a mat on the floor and a tiny blanket. Its spring now, so at least the cold nights are over. The rags that hang from my body do little to bring me comfort. A long robe, its faded grey color matches my surroundings. I hear the lock unlatch and a guard motions me out. He is dressed in a navy-blue uniform. His tanned skin a stark contrast to mine, pale from lack of sunshine. The dark grey halls seem like an endless maze, torches light the way. He leads me and the others that fill the cells beside me to a large hall. This is where we get our food if you can call it that. Potato soup and a slice of bread is all they ever serve. Too afraid we may revolt; they keep us weak and frail. My body appears as it is wasting away. The only curves are those from my bones sticking out beneath my skin. My cheeks are sunken in, a skeleton of my once full features. I grab my bowl silently and walk to one of the tables. We are not permitted to talk to one another, so the vast hall is silent. Guards stand at the entrance and exits. Their hateful glares burn through me. I have spent what feels like my whole life here. Never permitted to leave. When I was still just a baby, my mother, among others from the lower class revolted against those in power. They wished to overthrow the rich and the hagiarchy they have created. However, they lost and only served to increase our suffering.

My mother was gravely injured and returned to me on the verge of death. She held me as the life drained from her body and handed me a locket in her last moments. A golden locket in the shape of a heart. I cried as I held my mother’s lifeless body against mine, unsure what to do. That is when the guards found me. I wailed as they ripped my mother from my grasp. I tried to fight; not sure what fate awaited me, but at only 5, I was no match for them. One of the guards smacked me across the room, my face split open by the stone wall and everything went dark.

I woke up in the cell, my head throbbing in pain, blood stained the blanket. My locket gone. “Round them up” someone roared beyond the cell door. 3 guards entered my cell. They ripped my clothes from my tiny body and threw a grey robe at me. “Put it on.” They ordered me. Dizzy from the blow to my head I fumbled to do as they ordered. Once dressed they shoved me out of the door into the large hall we eat at now. There we were all gathered, waiting. A man entered, addressing all of us. “Since you have decided that the life, I provide for you is not good enough and choose to revolt, this will be your new home. “He bellowed angrily. “You and all your children will die here so that we may protect our way of life.” “You are all worthless garbage, your genes a disgrace to our perfect society and so you will rot here.” “Any actions against this will mean immediate death.” “Your ignorance will not be an excuse to end your duty to provide from our society.” “You will work mining these caves below us to provide those of us who deserve it with needed supplies until the day you all die here.” The guards began to force us all towards a hallway. Children like me are crying out for their mothers, but the guards do not care, beating them with batons till they follow orders. We all file into the hallway one at a time. I hear cries of agony from ahead of me. The dread in my stomach rises to my throat. What terrible thing awaits me at the end of this hallway? As I reach closer, I see those ahead of me being pushed into a room. The look of horror on their faces will forever be ingrained in my mind. Those leaving the room stumble out some being carried by others. All of them clutching their shoulders, shaking, anguish on their faces. As my turn nears my feet no longer want to move. The guards push me forward. When I enter the room a fire burns in the middle, a man stands with a cattle brand in his hand, red hot from the flames. The guard pushes me to my knees and rips my robe back, exposing my tiny shoulder. With a look of glee, the man shoves my face to the ground, stomps his boot on my back holding me down and presses the hot brand to my back. The smell of my burning flesh reaches my nostrils. A horrid smell. The pain sears through my body and everything goes black.

I awaken back in my cell. The pain still overwhelms me. I cry as do the others in the cells beside me. Sleep overtakes me and I drift off. The middle of the night I am awakened. A young guard, appearing not much older than myself, opens the door to my cell. I cower in the corner afraid of what he plans to do to me. He puts his finger to his lips to silence me. I recognize him from the group that found me with my mother. From his pocket he pulls the locket, hands it to me gently brushing my cheek where I hit my face earlier, then turns and leaves without a single word. I clutch the locket close to my heart as tears fill my eyes. In the gently moonlight I see my mothers blood dried on the clasp. I try to open the locket but it wont budge. I wrap it around my palm and drift back to sleep.

That was 12 year ago, I am 17 now. Life has been a horrible curse, but my mother’s locket still brings me comfort. We are not permitted to have personal effects, so I hide the locket every day in a small crack in the stone walls. Though I will never know why he showed me such kindness, I will forever be thankful. I have not seen him since. From the stories I have heard in hushed whispers while we worked, the world outside is a beautiful and vibrant place, for those lucky enough to be born to the upper class or find favor among those in power. Our genes are inferior, no good for anything except laboring for those in power. Treated as slaves now, though we were not much better off before. I remember sleeping in makeshift tents with my mother and being strapped to her back while she worked long hours in the field. Our dinners consisted of scraps left over and discarded by the wealthy. Sometimes my mother would not eat because there was not enough. She always told me I needed it more. A wonderful, kind women. How I miss her gentle kisses on my forehead as she tucked me in every night.

I remember once while my mother was working, wondering off as young children do, curious of my surroundings. I climbed a tree and saw far past the field my mother labored in all day. A beach with beautiful white sand lay beyond a large stone wall that encircled the place I had come to call home. Many people lounged about on chairs in clothes of vibrant colors. How I longed to join them, confused as to why we had never seen this beach. Large houses surrounded the beach and people walked about freely. A huge building stood out amongst the houses, surrounded by guards. “Claire, come down from there honey” My mothers voice drifted from beneath me. I climbed down the tree to inquire from my mother about the many delights I had seen beyond the wall, but she simply hushed my words and told me not to speak of it ever again. As dusk fell that night back in our tent, my mother tucked me in as she always did but tonight, was different. Instead of snuggling up next to me as she always did, she told me she loved me and that she would be back later. “Do not leave your bed my sweet child” she instructed me. “I will be back before dawn.” Then she disappeared into the night. Forever changing my way of life.

I am told my mother was part of the rebellion to overtake the wealthy class for keeping us living in our misery. The rebellion failed, the lower class was simply to weak and ill equipped to take on the masses of guards at the president’s house. Many died and the rest of us were thrown into this stone prison. Branded as traitors to live out our lives in darkness. Punishment for our unruly ways. Now we work in the mines instead of the fields and we sleep in cells alone, instead of tents with our family. My nights are lonely and dark. My days are filled with endless mining and silence. Nothing but stone for my eyes to see. Talking is prohibited, so we must do it in secret.