I wake up frightened, having dreamt about them yet again. They are my seven siblings who live in this world, being somewhere; or maybe not, or as they tell me so.
Nevertheless, I shove my blanket off myself and take a glance at the clock. I’m not too late. It’s just six in the morning, and we have breakfast at seven. I have an hour to get dressed up for today.
I look at myself in the mirror beside the bathroom. My dark hair, ruffled all over, my blue eyes dazzling in today’s first rays of the sun and my face thinner than it was earlier probably because of the series of nightmares I have,almost every night.
I see them die, flashes of their faces, their voice, and my parents, all of it is vivid, but the more I try to dream about them, the more scarier it becomes.
After cleaning myself, I open my cupboard as always ,checking for the clothes that the workers must have placed there. It’s an emerald green shirt with black trousers. It’s not vibrant, but is dull, it’s not definitely the color I’d like. I get dressed up and consider taking the thought that’s making me uneasy- and it refuses to be convinced. Green, especially this shade, is meant to be a symbol of goodbye. For someone who’s going away, forever. The type the people wear when they have to leave from here. But I can’t be leaving so soon, being so young, can I? I’m just thirteen, and they leave when they’re as good as twenty. Seven years from now, I’d be twenty, I think. That’s a long span of time. They could’ve possibly made a mistake, after all, the rumors say they mostly do.
It’s six forty-five already. I hurry and get out of my dormitory. As I walk across the lobby, I ask my brain for other things green symbolizes. It has no answer. I’m too worried, that I cross my friend, Meissa’s dormitory.
‘Good Morning,Rigel!’ she says.
‘Good Morning.’ I say nervously.
Meissa has been my friend since I’ve been here. They say I came when I was five, but again I can’t be so sure.
‘Is something wrong?’ Meissa asks. She’s examining me closely. A gasp is followed after her frown.
‘Why the g-green shirt?’ she stammers, hands clasped to her mouth.
‘I don’t know.’ I say honestly.
‘You’re lying’ she stammers again.
‘No, I’m not!’ I speak, infuriated
‘But you did last time.’ she whispers, loud enough for me to catch her words.
I’m confused to what she means until I remember the time we were just seven. I’d just sneaked into a senior student’s room and had stolen pencils and yes, some candies. Then the next morning, the Head had called my name for breakfast. It was just for detention and I knew it. And I had lied to Meissa, since I had the pesky mind of a seven-year old. Had I not been mischievous, I wouldn’t have to pick up all the heavy sacks to the Teacher’s Cupboard. It had been a petty thing, but not for Meissa.
A mere lie, had it been but it made me realise Meissa cared for me to an infinite extent. And I can assure I care for her even more than she could imagine for I have no one- or I don’t know if I do- to care for.
We’re walking through the thin corridors until we reach the Hall which isn’t so big, either.
We’re settled on the far end of the single row of the table, along with others of our age. Meissa isn’t talking to me and quietly sipping the soda.
I often wonder how the world outside is. I enjoy life in the orphanage, since we get everything we actually need. It’s a lavish lifestyle and everybody is pretty much respectful.
At the corners of the building are large walls with strict guards on the borderline, with no windows. Nobody can go outside, unless it’s your que to that is when you wear green, like I am, right now.
I have been desperate ever since I was ten, after I was told I had seven people to care about, roaming outside in the dangerous world. I was the luckiest one to be here, all others were lost after our parents had died. I still remember Mr. Elliot’s words as they hum in my mind, “Rigel, you’re indeed lucky to have been here. Alas, all your other brothers and sisters weren’t found.” he had said through the sheet of glass that existed between us. All of my classmates said children even went mad after knowing their past and so that glass existed.
A rule that was quite disturbing was to not speak, just a nod would be enough. The rule also comprised not asking questions which were fluttering in my mind. My parents, my siblings, at least their names, but I wasn’t allowed so kept my mouth shut.
I have been thinking for too long now. I’ve missed the Principal’s warm good morning and his everyday quotes.
Mr Elliot, the coordinator continues, “As all of you must be knowing, today is the day to bid goodbye to thirty of men and women to live out on their own. You must have spotted them, wearing green, the colour that symbolises farewell. Now, if Mr Cohen may, I must call out their names.”
The Principal nods and Mr Elliot continues, “I now address the people in green.”
My heart is beating faster as he says ‘green’. It has to be a mistake, my mind is chanting. It has to be.
“After your name is called, you have to go to the corner room, where the staff would tell you further details in what to do.”
The other twenty-year olds who are sitting in the middle of the table, start to cheer, who really do not have any mistake in wearing green.
A cheerful woman, who must be Cassidy ,races to the corner of the room and dissapears.
A series of names are being called and my heart races faster.
I’ve met Mallory once, she’d been with me on detention once. She goes slowly and reaches the corner and goes in.
I’ve been counting the names till now, they have been twenty-eight.
“Madylin Smith” Mr Elliot says, as I feel I just skipped a beat, hoping the next name won’t be mine.
“Rigel Blaine...?” Mr Elliot says, confused himself.
The path has been surely clear, out of mistakes. My heart sinks as my name is sinking in my head. I do not even take note that my last name is Blaine; instead the once colorful world starts to spin and black dots dance in my eyes as I fall on the ever-hard floor of my orphanage.