-Worlds Apart- Ruination (12 page)

Chapter 19

It’s hours before first light and I’m wide awake. I spent last night thrashing in bed. Again and again my dreams threw me back to the black rock. Over and over I sacrificed myself.

I creep out of bed, hastily pulling on my winter greens. It’s my first day wearing them and I’m reminded that I’m an adult now. My life’s forever changed. I stand in the corner of the room pulling at the hem of my jacket. I want the fabric to tear, to turn blue, grey, or any color but green.

Why do I have to wear this color anyway and who decides such things? Suddenly I’m furious that I’ve spent the last seventeen years being labeled, organized, and contained by a faceless place. This all-knowing, all-powerful entity called Central has dictated almost every move I’ve ever made. It seems hardly fair that today these same people will tell me where I can live, what labor role I’ll pursue, and possibly separate me and Garrett.

Emma’s small body tosses in bed forcing me to run from the room. I don’t want her seeing me broken and weak. I hit our walkway, the winds cut straight to my chest. My tears are like ice traveling down my cool cheeks as I run.

I make my way through sub-three crossing into sub-two. I cross Grove Street and leap across the fallen log. Even in total darkness my body knows every turn, rock, and tree along the route.

Bouncing from rock to rock I clear the tree line. Daylight’s nearly breaking as I rush to the oak tree. My shaking hands grasp at the winding branches as I hoist myself higher and higher toward the sky.

I keep reaching and pulling skyward until I’m at the highest peak. The sky breaks with pink and orange rays reaching their threads in all directions. I sit at the highest peak and cry. I cry because I’m angry, I cry because I’m scared, and I cry because it’s so beautiful.

How is it that I’m considered an adult yet this is the first sunrise I’ve ever been allowed to see outside my own home? It isn’t fair.

I sit in the branches for hours. I can’t pinpoint one exact thing that consumes my mind. My head is bounding too fast with memories being played in a circular reel.

The sun’s breaking the peaks of the hills to my east when I resolve to go home. I’ve got the banquet tonight and hours of preparation ahead of me.

I lower myself from branch to branch until my feet touch the frosted ground. Collecting myself on the run back, I enter our empty house.

I draw a bath, lowering myself into the water to soak. I let the water wrap itself around my body; filling all my spaces with a gentle warmth. It’s comforting and pure as I lay with my eyes closed, letting myself drift away.

Deeper and deeper I drift until suddenly my head’s thrust under water. Hands grip around my throat. I thrash, clawing the assailants arms.

My vision is blurred by several inches of water but through them I see a white uniform and Natalie’s beautifully wicked face. My legs twist and turn until at last I kick the base of the tub. My head crashes, knocking me unconscious. Her hands release from my collapsing throat and I awake. The bath’s long turned cold and my head’s draped over the side.

It felt so real but I immediately orient myself, realizing it was just a nightmare, or maybe a warning. With my heart pounding I scrub myself from head to toe, rinsing the foaming soap from my waterlogged skin.

My hands shake as I reach for my towel. I hardly manage wrapping my fingers around the rough fabric as I draw it over the length of my body.

In the pre-divide women wore make-up on their faces to accentuate their features and clothing of all styles. In the post-divide such clothing and grooming is permitted for leap night only. I’ve got thirty minutes to dress and make it to the pavilion for preparation.

All leap participants from my sub will meet at the pavilion by twelve to be transformed. I pile my soaking hair on top of my head and sprint towards the pavilion.

I immediately recognize some of the other leap testers from my grade as I round the corner to the pavilion. There’s already a line forming like a snake winding through the grass.

Dozens of girls wait for their time with one of the two beauticians. I fall in line behind waist length flowing blonde hair belonging to Aria. She’s the most stunning girl in our year. She’s almost as tall as me but her body’s more feminine and full of curves that I just barely have. Aria’s smart, probably the top in our class academically. She has a fierce way about her during skills training but I’ve always out performed her there. 

She shifts her weight slightly, her perfect figure sways in a seductive way. My heart constricts with an instant pang of jealousy. I always thought Garrett would end up with someone like her, someone that could match his good looks. I hear a shout from behind me, her raspy voice is nearly a shrill.

“Nessa!” I instantly know who it is from her tones.

She runs to me, sliding to a stop just inches away. She wraps me in her warm arms. All I can hear is her heavy breathing.

“Gwen!”

“How was your training time?” She asks, smiling her devious smile.

“It was good. Helpful.” I pause. “It was great having Garrett to train with.” 

“How
is
Garrett?” She asks.

For years she’s insisted that Garrett and I were ‘destined for each other.’ I used to laugh, but not anymore.

“Good.
Really
good,” I say it with as much mischief as my voice can handle. I can’t help noticing that Aria’s perked up. I’ve always maintained she had a thing for him and she’s confirming my suspicions now. “Actually, technically,
we’re
really good.”

“Oh my God! Are you serious? I totally called it!” Gwen pushes me backwards.

“Let’s not talk about that now. How’ve you been, how’s limbo?” I ask.

Gwen was born in February so she’s been shadowing the different jobs in our sector for ten months now.

“Unbearably boring. The shadowing was awful.” She rolls her eyes. “Not all of it of course, but most of the jobs were totally miserable.” She laughs like she’s recalling particulars.       

“Did you have any favorites?”

“Well, naturally I liked the planner position. You know me. It just fit with my personality. Organizing the layout of the homes and businesses and things like that.”

I nod, she would be perfect for that position.

“I’m a little jealous you were in limbo. I feel like I’m going into this whole leap cold.” I say just before a hand squeezes my shoulder.

“You’re next.” The man from Central looks perturbed as he speaks.

“Yes sir, sorry.” I stare at the ground, walking to the beautician’s chair.

My beautician is one of the prettiest men I’ve ever seen. His brown hair falls in perfect lines just above his eyes. His teeth are bleached white and everything about him is immaculate. His nails are trimmed and shining and I instantly recoil my hands into my lap, embarrassed he’ll compare his to mine. His voice is smooth and warm.

“Hello Miss…”

“Miss Hollins. Vanessa Hollins. You can call me Nessa.”

“Hello, Nessa. I’m Uri. I’ll be transforming you into a more beautiful version of yourself tonight. Are you ready?”

I hesitate, am I ready?

“Yes,” I finally answer.

Uri guides me into the silver chair, draping me in a long plastic cloth. He hums to himself as he brushes through my knotted hair. He gets his comb mired in my tangled mane twice.

“May I make a braid Miss Nessa?” He asks and I instantly nod yes.

I’d hoped he’d braid it. For some reason a braid makes me comfortable. Uri expertly twists and threads my strands into a weaved pattern unlike anything I’ve ever tried. I’m good at styling Emma’s hair but that’s nothing compared to this. Uri’s an artist.

My chair rotates ninety degrees so my backs to the mirror. My eyes travel to meet Uri’s. He stands with one arm across his abdomen and the other hand cradling his chin. He’s in deep thought as his eyes travel the features of my face. His bottom jaw sways side to side. He’s devising his next plan of attack and I sit awkwardly under his scrutinizing eyes.

“Fear not Miss Nessa. I’ve got a plan for you.” Uri snaps his fingers, reaching for a massive pallet of colors. He bends down, grabbing a large brush and begins winding it between several shades. I automatically withdraw as he comes at me with the black bristles. “This won’t hurt. I promise.”

I relax and hesitantly let him proceed. The brush is soft and actually feels good against my skin. He winds his brush, gathering more colors as he expertly sweeps my face. He changes brushes several times and ends with the small one over my eyelids. My face is tingling from the bristles. Just when I think he’s done I see him pumping one last wand in and out of a black tube.      

“Look up to the sky and keep looking up.” I do as I’m told. The black wand comes dangerously close to my eyeball, I clamp my eyes closed. “Keep looking up please.”

I try again. With all the effort I can manage I keep my eyes looking upward. Stroke after uncomfortable stroke brushes my eyelashes. Uri steps back with a beaming smile.

“You are a masterpiece, if I may say so myself.” He rotates the chair to reveal the new me. I gasp, I can’t believe what he’s done. I don’t even look like the same person. I launch myself out of the chair and stand so close to the mirror that it fogs from my breath.

My hair’s weaved and knotted in the most ornate and intricate way and my face glows in a golden hue that compliments my pink and gold cheeks. My eyes are dark, like smoke charred them and my lips are crimson red.

I never knew I could look so stunning; I’d do anything to have Mama here. To have her see me this way.

I turn to Uri, “This is amazing. I can’t believe it.” I stare at him. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He nods, directing me to leave his station.

The girls on the other side of the mirror have all been transformed but none of them, not even Aria, looks as beautiful as me. I’m still dancing on cloud nine when I’m snapped back to reality by another shoulder squeeze.

“I’m sorry sir.” I feel like a fool.

That’s the second time he’s had to direct me and he must be thinking I’m challenged. I follow his directions and approach the expansive rack where hundreds of dresses hang, all of them covered in plastic.

One of the Central designers greets me, “I’m Tiffany, I’ll be selecting your wardrobe. Stand still while I take some measurements.”

Tiffany’s slender hands reach around my body as she measures my hips, waist, and breasts. She’s quick and serious. Her fingers punch my measurements into her handheld tablet. Once she presses ‘enter’ the rack of dresses flies to the left.

Dress after dress passes until at last the rack stops. She pulls three dresses from the metal bar, hanging them outside the dressing room. The back of her head darts side to side as she mentally dresses me in each option.

Her manicured hand reaches to select the middle dress. She throws something into the bag and shoves the hanger into my hands. “No need to try it on here. It will fit and it’s the best for your body.” I grab my dress and leave the pavilion. In all, preparation took three hours. That leaves an hour to get home and dressed before Papa and I take the shuttle to the banquet.

I steal some downward glances at my lace dress as I jog back to the house. The fabric’s rich, like something from the past. She selected the darkest green allowed. Much darker than our standard issued greens. I press the fabric between my fingers, swaying them back and forth. I imagine a time when wearing such things was commonplace.

I’m three quarters of the way home when I feel the first bead of sweat breaking my brow line. I stop in my tracks, dabbing the moisture away. It would be criminal to ruin Uri’s work.

I walk the rest of the way home, arriving with just enough time to dress. Emma’s hands are flying in all directions as soon as she sees me come through the door, “Oh, Nessa!” She’s stunned. I have to admit I was stunned the first time I saw myself in the mirror today too. “You look gorgeous!” She shrieks.

I smile hugging her, “I have to dress, Papa will be home soon.” I hang my dress in the bathroom. “I wish you could come tonight.” I grin at her. “At least I’ll be able to see you on your banquet night. If you think I look gorgeous, that means we’ll be speechless for your transformation.”

Emma grins wildly, then suddenly her smile drops. “Don’t say things you can’t know for sure.” Her mood shifts completely. “You’re smart Nessa. You could make the leap tonight.” She swallows so hard it’s like she’s trying to gulp an apple whole. “If you leap, you won’t come back. You can’t ever come back.”

“I did fine on my test, but don’t worry about me making the leap. I didn’t test in the top. Even if I did, I’d find a way to see you. I promise.” I squeeze her small body close to my chest. “Can you help me put this confusing thing on?” She releases me, taking a massive inhale before nodding her head yes.

We slide the dress over my head, I practically have to dive into the thing. Emma pulls it down over my hips, tugging at the bottom hem. With each tug the wrinkles smooth out and soon I’m standing in a dress that looks like it’s been painted onto me. My chest looks a little bigger and my sides dip in at the middle. This is what Aria must feel like every day I think. Emma’s once again in awe.

“Nessa, you look perfect. Absolutely perfect” she says.

Now I wish I’d insisted on trying the dress on at the pavilion. I have no way of seeing the final effect here. Emma helps me slide into the shoes Tiffany threw into the bag. They’re nothing like shoes I’ve ever seen before. They’re shiny with bits of lace matching my dress.

The heel’s intimidating to say the least. It looks like I’m supposed to balance on three-inch stilts. Squeezing my feet into them, I immediately wobble. “I can’t do this.” I moan as I try walking the length of our house. I sway as my ankles roll like I’m a newborn doe. “I’m just going to wear my sneakers there. I’ll change at the banquet.”

Emma looks disgusted. I can see why, sneakers don’t exactly match my ensemble but if I’m planning on getting there without a broken ankle it’s my only option. She helps me into my sneakers. As the second one slides on Papa walks through the door.