ANTIDYSTOPIA by Skittlez & Arabesque - Chapter One

Chapter One

Heruna

                Bang, bang. The fire of gunshots outside, the sounds of people falling to the ground, family members mourning. Windows shattering, screaming children, angry swearing. Not uncommon sounds in Surubi. Ever since the Revolution, ever since that terrible time. I hear Nana whimpering at the noise.

                “Heruna, Heruna… why are they doing this?” Nana asks, with a worried expression.

                I sigh. It’s been like this since I was seven. On what we call today the Day of Flames, ten years ago, the rebellion overthrew the government and dropped firebombs over the city.

                “Nana, they are fighting because there is no leader,” I answer, “there is no one to show them which direction to go.”

                Nana is ninety-nine years old. She is near her end, and she has lived through a lot. Through several wars, the Golden Age, and the Revolution. She’s outlived her husband, as well as her daughter. My mother, Cyra Querba. My father and brother are out trying to find meat, while I am baking bread and preparing dinner and my younger sister is collecting fruits.

              “You should be their leader Heruna,” Nana smiles, looking off at the distance, “you have direction… like a compass.”

                I laugh, and continue stirring the soup, thinking about how quickly life changed after the Revolution. One day I was running around with my brother, the next I was defending myself while trying to find food. I remember when I was seven. I was terrified by how our calm, harmonious civilization had overnight turned into anarchy.

                I saw my mother killed before my own eyes, it was just after the  Day of Flames. We were walking around, “exploring” like we had before the Revolution. My mother wanted to keep me calm and safe, but also wanted to make life still feel normal. Despite my father’s warnings, my adventurous and positive mother took me out. We had wandered into a forest, when there was a sound. The sound that forever haunts me; the crunch of feet on leaves followed by a gunshot, then my mother falling to the ground with a lifeless thunk. The man with the crystal blue eyes and the insane look.

                “Get away,” he said through gritted teeth.

                I did. I ran as fast as I could back home. In tears, I dashed over the hills, rerunning what had just happened in my mind. My seven-year-old brain tried to find a reason for why my mother fell to the ground. She was not dead, she could not be.

                When I finally got home, I ran into my father’s arms.

                “Daddy, daddy,” I sobbed, “mommy fell down in the forest… there was a bang and… and the man told me to get away… she fell… “

                I’ll never forget the look on my father’s face. A look of sorrow, disbelief, and anger, an expression only made when you find out someone you loved died. Our family was different after that. Not just because of my mother’s death, but also because of the Revolution. People grew irritated, conflicts arose, the neighborly kindness transformed into a wretched hatred. Shots were fired, people were killed. My father refused to let us outside at first. He alone ventured out occasionally, only when necessary.

                Thinking back now, ten years later, I am unbelievably proud of my father for having been so strong for us. I collapsed into mourning—I told myself that it was my fault for everything, if I hadn’t asked her, she wouldn’t have gone out.

                Nana calls me, “Heruna, someone is at the door.”

                I look over towards the window to see a group of people, who appear to be a shady bunch, but not a ragtag group, they seemed more organized and purposeful. There was a sense of insecurity, the sort you feel when you’re around someone who gives the impression of knowing too much about you.

                I open the door slowly, bracing myself in case they are here to attack.

                “Hello Heruna Querba,” one of the men greets me.

                “How… how do you know my name?”

                “That doesn’t matter. We know much more about you than that. In fact, we’ve been watching you for a while now. We are the Elites. We are here to inform you,” the way he said inform irked me.

                “that you have been selected to be part of a little restoration project of ours.”

                “And what is that exactly, and why was I chosen for this honor?”

                A young woman steps to the front with a cold smile on her face.

                “My name is Eralia. Heruna, you exhibit extraordinary talents for someone your age. You are skilled in hand to hand combat, and you hold a certain insight and hope that others do not have. You have an analytical mind and a certain essence we cannot put our fingers on. A certain determination to succeed, yet not a pious devotion to winning.”

                It’s a compliment that sounds like she’s trying to crush my soul.

                She continues, “Your task, Heruna, is to bring order to our beautiful land of Surubi. Restore it to its golden age, stop the killing. We believe President Dywynyx of Toire is planning an ambush upon our fair country next year. We have a long way to go until we reach a point where Toire’s attack would not shatter us. We hereby bestow upon you the power and the military force to control the unsettled citizens of Surubi.”

                I’m suspicious. People don’t just come knocking on your door offering you power and riches, especially not in Surubi. People usually knock on the door to try and raid your house and kill you.

                “What happens if I fail?” I ask reluctantly.

                “Well, we will adjust if necessary, but we believe you will not fail,” the woman answers, “We will kill you. We will hang you in public for all to see as a demonstration of power and a way to suppress the opposition.”

                “Why not just take over yourselves? Why make me your scapegoat?” I ask.

                “Ah yes, I forgot to mention your inquisitive mind,” Eralia smiles, “You have a certain congeniality and innocence the citizens will accept more openly. They will be more willing to take you on as queen. But be warned, Heruna, there will be opposition, and they will be fierce.”

                “What happens if I succeed then?”

                “You will be rewarded greatly. You shall remain in power if you agree to allow us to advise you in your rule. Your family will be given riches and food, you will never go hungry again. Are you in?”

                I think for a moment. What do I have to lose? Our country is in ruins, there is terror everywhere. Making Surubi a safe place would benefit me and my family, as well as others. This could be a great thing, that is if I can do it.

                “Yes, I accept this challenge,” I answer. I am fully aware that I have nothing to lose but everything to gain.

                “Excellent. Now would you do me a wonderful favor and look over there?” Eralia asks, gesturing towards the woods. I turn naively, and when I look back to where the Elites once stood, there is nothing.

                My father and brother, Myka, return home at dusk. Hyren comes home later with a full basket of berries. I am proud. She is only 13, and able to go out by herself. My mother’s death has been hard on her. She is talented with bow and arrow, just like our mother.

                I explain to them about The Elites and their challenge to me. I describe what happened, and I tell them about the reward and punishment. My father isn’t happy; I can tell right away that he is worried for me. Hyren is gleeful.

                “Oh Heruna! What a terrific offer! We could be safe, and powerful, and famous!”

                Myka, however, disagrees with both my father and Hyren.

                “Heruna, this is an interesting opportunity. You shouldn’t mess this up, but don’t worry about it too much,” he advises me.

                My father sighs, “Very well Heruna, good luck. Stay calm, be wise, and believe in yourself. Be warned, that The Elites are a tricky group. They may be manipulating you for their own twisted purposes.”

               

                The next week, my family sends me off to meet with Eralia. I turn and see a boy in the far off distance, similar age to me. He is watching, but doesn’t seem hostile. I ignore him and continue walking. Eralia waves me over. She explains my responsibilities, and introduces me to the chief officer of the military. His name is Olanth Wellsbee. He is a light haired young man with dark set brown eyes. He explains that he will be helping me to deal with Surubi.

                I am introduced to dozens of servants, guards, councilmen and women, cooks, stable boys, and maids. I feel the tiniest bit of doubt hanging above me. I think back to the boy far off in the distance. Why was he watching me? Could he be a spy, or an assassin? Here to kill me when I am at my weakest?

                Eralia pulls me into the “Main Control Room”. Her touch is icy. There are several computers with people at each. One appears to be a security camera screen, one is a radar map, and others clearly with uses I can’t comprehend.

                Eralia senses my doubt and to reassure me, she smiles encouragingly and says,

                “Don’t worry, my regal queen. You shall not fail, I will not let you.”

                I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean.

Just so you know, tentative sched (yes, sched) for ANTIDYSTOPIA is up on my blog, Random Thoughts. Check it out to see when the next awesome chapter is comin' out.

Hope you guys enjoy it. :)

Mucho Gracias,

Arabesque

Yipeee! :D

I like milestones. It makes me feel less like a loser. :) Just kidding, just kidding.

WRITE AWAY HIT 300 PAGEVIEWS! *confetti* *dancing* *cue Disney music*

Skittlez and I thank you from the bottom of our feet (even though I just joined).

Thanks! :D

Mucho Gracias,

Arabesque

Insert Catchy Name Here

Hey, so I have a blog too! And I mentioned THIS BLOG there, which is free publicity for Skittlez... except I decided it's no longer free. :)

PUBLICITY!!!!

Random Thoughts

Yup... THANKS!

Mucho Gracias,

Arabesque

Introducing... ANTIDYSTOPIA

Hi! :) Skittlez and I are currently co-authoring a novel. For now, it'll be known as ANTIDYSTOPIA. Here is a little teaser summary ;)

Surubi was once a wealthy country, where everyone lived in forced harmony. The government controlled almost every aspect of life. Everyone was safe and happy. One day, the people rebelled. Surubi collapsed upon itself and became a dystopia. You've heard of books where it started too controlled, but have you ever read a book where everyone was free to do whatever they want? ANTIDYSTOPIA focuses in on Heruna Querba, who has been told to bring order to the chaotic land within one year, before an enemy country attacks. However, if she fails, the cost will be her life.

We're on Chapter One now. :)
Check out behind-the-scenes on my blog, Random Thoughts!!! :D

Mucho gracias,

Arabesque

(Skittlez here...don't worry, I'll still be continuing Find Me so look out for future chapters as well as ANTIDYSTOPIA)

(Edit: No, she's lying... ANTIDYSTOPIA IS TAKING OVER! Bwahahahaha!)

Find Me--Chapter 3 ~Marcus~

When Dillon and I walk into the dining hall, I get a grasp on how many people there are here. How many people don’t have parents to look after them. But for the amount of people, it isn’t very loud. We both grab trays with identical portions of stew, a slice of bread, and a glass of water. Skye and Olivia are easily spotted in the sea of black shirts. We sit down next to them. Scarlet, two other girls, and a guy are there too.

“Hey,” Olivia says to me. Her voice was thin and her eyes were sadder than I’d ever seen them. I pull her in my arms just when the first tear slides down her face. She needs me just as much as I need her. For moments I hold her and stroke her hair; be the older brother my mother and father had always told me to be.

After a while, we pick up our spoons and dig into our stew. It needed some salt, but was a change of pace from all the game we’d been eating. Scarlet breaks the silence.

“Well this would be as good a time as any to get to know each other.”

“I’m Violet,” the short, black haired girl next to Scarlet says. “Oh and I’m Scarlet’s older sister. I’m eighteen, she’s sixteen.” Next to her is a guy with blonde hair and hazel eyes.

“I’m Chase,” he says. I saw his eyes train Olivia’s figure huddled against mine. “I’m also eighteen.” Then there was a small girl with wavy brown hair. We look at her expectantly, then Violet chimes in.

“That’s Lyra,” she says slowly. “She doesn’t really talk often.” I was instantly curious as to why.

“I’m Dillon,” Dillon introduces. “And that’s Skye, Olivia and Marcus.”

“Olivia’s my sister,” I comment.

In the short time we had introduced ourselves, I’d eaten all the food on my tray. All of us had except for Skye. She just sat on the other side of me stirring her stew with a spoon. I hungrily look at the untouched food. Everyone gets the same portions. The petite thirteen year old girls and the buff twenty year old guys ate the same amount which seemed unfair. Skye sees my stare and pushes her tray toward me.

“Here,” she says. “I’m not hungry.” All of us had been eating meager amounts of food for the past week or so. Something is bothering her. There’s no way she’d pass up a meal.

“No,” I tell her. “You should eat.”

“I can’t,” she whispers. Before I can, Dillon embraces her.

“What’s wrong,” he says, leaning in so his nose touches her cheek.

“Everything,” she says, breaking his grip and standing up. She saunters off and sits by the sunny window. Dillon has a sad look of rejection on his face.

“Skye?” I whisper as I approach her.

“Just leave me alone Marcus,” she stammers. That was that last thing I could do.

“I can’t just leave you like this,” I tell her. I don’t bother asking her why she’s upset. It’s the same things that have been making her cry for the past few weeks.

I lean down and kiss her cheek. She looks up, showing me her puffy eyes, just as a clock strikes. Dillon, Olivia, and the others approach us.

“It’s time to get back to work,” chase says bluntly.

“Follow us,” Violet instructs. Everyone in the dining hall returns their trays and files out the door.

We walk down a set of stairs. I hear the soft pitter-patter of the raindrops hitting the walls.

“Olivia, you’re sixteen right?” Scarlet asks. Olivia nods skeptically. “Okay then you’ll be outside with Lyra and me.”

“See you later,” Olivia says to me. I pull her in my arms wishing I didn’t have to let her out of my sight. She pushes open the door and follows Scarlet and Lyra out into the rain.

Violet, Chase, Dillon, Skye and I saunter down two more flights of stairs into the basement of the building. It’s set up like a factory. Immediately, Skye starts coughing as she breathes in the foul air. Dillon turns to her and strokes her hair. Once she stops, violet speaks.

“Skye, Dillon, Marcus, how old are you guys?”

“I’m eighteen, they’re both seventeen,” Dillon says.

“Okay so Dillon, you’re with us. Skye and Marcus you stay here. They assign jobs by age,” Chase informs us. Violet walks off, them quickly returns with a girl who has light brown hair.

“This is my friend, Rae. She’ll help you,” Violet says. “See you at dinner.” Dillon gives Skye a quick kiss on her forehead then follows Chase and Violet into another room.

“Follow me,” Rae says. So we follow her to a workstation with two other guys. “These are my brothers, Seth and Isaac,” she says. They have a strong resemblance to each other. “We’re triplets but also have a thirteen year-old brother, Caleb.” I could hear the rain drumming on the building faster and harder.

Rae, Seth, and Isaac taught us the art of textile making. It involved a lot of sewing which I was no happier about than Skye. I tried to focus on making a quilt. Skye had coughing fits every once and a while. I caught Rae sneaking glances at me. Seth and Isaac confide amongst themselves.

I wait out the hours until dinner. Then the days until this is over and somehow we can all return home.

Find Me--Chapter 2 ~Skye~

I’ve never felt so clueless, so afraid, in my life. I had no idea where we were. Or where they were.

As night was rolling in, a nurse who came to check on Marcus ordered me and Dillon out and back to our own rooms. When we reach mine, Dillon stops me after I open the door.

“Wait.”

“What?” I ask him. He brushes the hair off my cheek and plants a kiss on it. Before I can say anything, he’s gone.

I climb into bed, trying to ignore the pain from every open wound that had been stitched shut. I close my eyes, only to find that sleep is out of the question. Scarlet seemed nice, but I just couldn’t trust her yet. Trust. Happiness. Love. They were all being contradicted by the fear that was eating my insides. I realize how much I didn’t want to be alone. How much I fear something will happen to Olivia, Marcus, or Dillon and I wouldn’t be there to save them. Like Rose.

I feel so trapped in my tiny room. Trapped, but still as vulnerable. My body complains as I start to pace around the room. My head most of all still throbs with pain. For the first time, I notice my backpack thrown on a chair and that my necklace is no longer around my neck. As I sort through its contents, and thankfully find my necklace, the door creaks open. I turn with a start.

“Just me,” Marcus whispers.

“What are you doing here? I ask him. He limps over to me, trying to hide grimaces of pain. He kneels down on the floor so that we’re face to face.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks with a faint smile. “I wanted to see you.” His eyes train me. They follow as I look across his face; from his matted chestnut waves to his lips that had once touched my cheek. I look down at the necklace.

“Allow me,” he says softly. He slides behind me and sweeps my blonde hair in front of my shoulder. Then he grabs the necklace from my hand, drapes it in front of me, and fastens the clasp. As I turn to face him, he gathers up my hair and lets it loose down my back. Marcus’s face, illuminated by the moonlight shining through the small window, holds a look I can’t exactly define. Compassion, maybe.

“Does Dillon hate me?” he asks.

“No,” I answer truthfully. “He just loves me.” I couldn’t look at him when I uttered those words.

“What about you? How do you feel?” he tilts my chin up and I have no choice but to lay my eyes on him.

“Deathly afraid,” I whisper. He pulls me into his arms and holds me tightly as I do the same.

I didn’t remember getting back into bed or falling asleep. But the next thing I know, the sun’s rays replace the moonlight. My head rests on Marcus’s good leg. I didn’t remember him staying either.

“Did you sleep last night?” I ask him.

“I think it’d be better if I didn’t answer that,” he says. That meant no. The clock beside me flashes 6:30.

“You still have time to get some rest.”

“I’ll be fine. Actually, I should go back to my room. Olivia might worry.” I slowly lift my head, which still pounds with pain. I let him lean on my shoulder as we slowly hobble back to his room.

“See you later,” he says outside the door. He gives me the lightest of kisses on my forehead before stepping inside.

When I get back to my room, a tray with a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of water sits on the bedside table. I shovel down spoonfuls of oatmeal and take swigs of water until the bowl and glass are empty. The oatmeal didn’t have much flavor, but was food nonetheless.

I lie down on my bed and stare at the ceiling. What if we weren’t brought here? What if none of this ever happened? If I were still living with Rose, three doors down from Marcus and Olivia, across the way from Dillon. If we hadn’t encountered the men from the other village. If Rose and everyone’s parents were still alive.

In the midst of my thoughts, I find sleep.

“Skye,” Olivia says in a loud whisper as she gently shakes my shoulder. When I open my eyes, it’s nine-thirty.

The four of us find our way to the headmistress’s office. We exit the infirmary and walk down many maple wood door lined halls. There’s no one around. After wandering around for quite a while, we find her office on the top floor of the building.

“There are over two hundred kids here,” the headmistress says once we’re seated in her office. Her name is Evangeline Baumann, but we are to call her Headmistress Baumann. She had long, flawless black hair that swept behind her like a cape when she walked from Marcus to Dillon. From one side to the other. “All orphans or runaways. All without parents. All alone.” Her strong voice. The stiff expression on her face. The fact I didn’t know where we were. The fact I was about to find out. It all scares me. “We put you to work so you have a purpose here. Please fill these out for your records.” She shoves four papers and pens toward us, then steps out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

All the forms asked about was our name, age, birthday, where we lived, and why we were alone. Then, we waited restlessly for her to return. Work? What kind of work? How long were we supposed to stay here? The door clicks open and Headmistress Baumann glides in holding a cup of coffee. She scoops up our papers, takes a quick glance at them, then places four new sheets of paper in front of us.

“Here are you room numbers, the schedules for each day, and some rules. Now go get your things and find your rooms. Lunch is at twelve sharp.

After I got my backpack and the others got their things, we set off to find our rooms. The boys’ rooms are on the fourth floor and girls’ rooms on the third. Olivia and I push open the door to room 326, but I didn’t want to go in.

I wanted to go home.

Find Me--Chapter 1 ~Dillon~

It seemed like yesterday I was riding the train home from the orphanage. Then they attacked our village, chased us, fought us, and they’re still out there. As long as they’re after us, we will never really be safe.

I sit on a bed with sheets that I suppose were once a flawless white, but were now had stains splotched on them. We were brought to an infirmary when we got here; a massive, gray concrete building which was surrounded by rows of farmland, grassy fields, a forest, and if you went far enough, a twenty-five foot fence. But I still had no idea where we really were.

The nurses had tended to all of us. They put stitches in the wound in my wrist and the cut on my back. We were instructed to stay in our tiny rooms and rest, but I wanted to find Skye. I ignored the ache that shot through my back as I stood up and wandered through the halls. From one open door, I saw a sweep of long golden hair rest on the pillow. It had to be her. I slip in the room and click the door shut. As I walk to her bedside, I see she’s still asleep. I slide my hand into hers and run my fingers through her hair.

After a few minutes, her eyelids flutter open.

“Dillon,” she says groggily, still under the effects of the anesthesia. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” I say simply. But after the words leave my mouth, I realize that there’s another reason. She tries not to wince as she eases herself up and props herself against the wall. Seeing in Skye in pain almost hurts me more. She moves to the far end of the bed and motions for me to sit next to her instead of kneeling on the cold floor. I see her try to hide a grimace as I press my shoulder against the stitched up wound on hers.

For moments, I just gaze into the distant look of her blue eyes. I wonder what she was thinking about. Probably about how stupid I acted. Then I break the silence.

“Explain to me,” I whisper as I cup her cheek in my hand. First she blinks as if my voice broke a spell that was cast on her. Then she turns away from me and looks out the window at the night sky rolling in. I take her cheek again, facing her toward me. “I’m listening. I promise.” A tear wells up in her eye, but she swipes it away before I can.

“It’s not that I don’t like you, because I do,” she starts. “You have no idea how much you and Olivia and Marcus and…” she trails off and I know exactly who she’s thinking about. I tip her chin up.

“It’s not your fault,” I remind her. She shakes her head and then continues.

“You have no idea how much you guys mean to me. It’s not that I like Marcus more than you. But it’s like the situation we’re in. It was just forced upon us. We weren’t ready at all. I’m not ready to love someone. Not now. Ever since Rose died, I’ve been drowning in fear. Fear that will continue to drown me until I know they’re gone. Until I know we’re safe.” I realized how afraid she really was. And how rash I was for getting mad at Marcus.

I pull her in my arms, forgetting about any pain she might be in.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper in her ear again, meaning it more now that I knew the truth. I feel her bury her face in my shoulder which I take as her forgiveness. The door slides open, sending a beam of light from the hallway into the dim room. Skye recoils, though it’s only Olivia who steps in. Her long auburn hair is in knots.

“Hey Skye. Hey Dillon,” she says, not really surprised I was there. I climb off the bed.

“Where’s Marcus?” Skye asks.

“In our room,” Olivia replies. “He’s still a bit hazy and can’t walk well. He wanted to see you guys.” Skye threw off the sheets and stood up. She was a little unsteady on her feet, so I put my hands on her shoulders. We walk silently through the hall, the tile floor cold on our bare feet.

We go into the room Olivia leads us to. It is identical to mine and Skye’s, but has two beds crammed in the small space. Marcus lies sleeping when we approach. Olivia leans over him and touches his cheek with her lips.

“Marcus,” she says in a low voice. He stirs, and then looks over at Skye’s swaying figure. Then at me supporting her. His lips form her name, but I don’t hear him speak. She gingerly breaks my grip and walks over to his side. I saw the pain in her eyes as they found the thick bandage wrapped around Marcus’s ankle. She strokes his cheek with the back of her hand, but nothing more. Tears well up in her eyes and she’s soon crying. Marcus leans on his elbow and lightly touches her arm. I move to her side, maybe with a little too much urgency, and put my arm around her.

“Skye,” Olivia says, coming up to her other side. “What’s wrong?”

“What are we going to do?” she says between sobs. “They’re still out there, after us.” I wish they were gone for good. So we wouldn’t have to worry. So maybe she could love me.

“Where are we anyway?” Olivia asks minutes later. Marcus shakes his head.

“Hopefully someplace where they can’t find us.” I hoped that was true.

Olivia, Skye and I are sitting on Olivia’s bed when the door opens.

“Oh, you’re all here,” a girl with loose red curls says. “The headmistress told me to tell you that she wants you guys in her office tomorrow morning at ten.

“Okay,” I reply. “Thanks uh…”

“Scarlet,” she finishes for me. “And you are?”

“Dillon,” I answer.

“I’m Olivia,” Olivia says. “And that’s my older brother, Marcus.” He gives a faint nod. “And that’s Skye.”

“Hi,” Skye says, wiping the tracks her tears left behind away.

“Nice to meet all of you,” Scarlet says. “I better go. See you guys tomorrow.” She slips out the door into the hall

“She seems nice,” Olivia comments. We nod.

I hoped she was as nice as she seemed. I’m tired of being around enemies.