Breaking September

Four AM and most of the world is still locked it its slumber. The melting clouds meandered through the sky. Haley stepped ungracefully out of the window in hopes of catching a few clean breaths before the factories began spewing their smog throughout the lungs of the city. She smiled halfheartedly at the taste of the wind, and grimaced as she accidentally caught a drop of mildew rain on her tongue. The air stood completely still for a moment, and at her next breath the town awoke with its sudden song of rusted gears and grinding mechanics. The smoke pipes spiced the atmosphere with toxins and Haley choked on a disappointed cough before retreating back into her room and awaiting the six o’clock routine.
Haley rested her eyes but could hardly do much more; insomnia worked too well in her life. At a minute before six, her alarm painfully croaked out a note or two and sputtered as she immediately punched the button in. With a quick shake of her head, she sprung from the springless bed and threw on the school’s grey uniform. The sun was hesitating in its announcement and the window had already clouded with a web of pollutants.
She checked her hair in the mirror. Blonde bangs swept to the left and a French braid twisted in a semi-circle to the right. After flashing a smile to her reflection, she tied a bright pink ribbon around her wrist and slid it under the cuff of her sleeve.
“This is as good as it gets, I guess.” Haley muttered to herself. She picked up her tan satchel and pushed open the front door with her foot. Stepping in to the colorless world, she squinted to make her way through the dusted daylight.
Hardly off of her front walk yet, she watched a shadowed silhouette approaching her. A slender brunette, also dressed in the full-length school uniform, waved her arms and stepped next to Haley.
“Hi Talia,” Haley greeted in a cheerful salutation. Her friend smiled as a response and the two continued down the path without saying much more. The hems of their smoke-like skirts danced around each other’s ankles as they walked close together at a brisk pace toward the school. The towering cement walls intimidated all approaching students and the cold metal doors were probably twice the necessary height. Haley and Talia stepped into the dry building and eased around the corners in their winding routes to the proper classes.
“Jensen, Tahr, you’re late.” Spat the less than cheerful Ms. Kay. “Find your desks and remember your numbers.”
“Yes ma’am,” droned the girls as they slid into their marked desks near the center of the room. H.T. Class: 8 Grade: 10 Desk: 24/50 and T.J. Class: 8 Grade: 10 Desk: 27/50 were engraved in rough scratches on the wood. With only two desks separating them, Haley and Talia shared a quick grin and opened their textbooks.
“Today, we will be reviewing the economics of industry. The decisions involved in every step and the functions of each position in places, such as factories, are important for you all to know. Let’s start with our own little district. Who can tell us in what year the major industries started springing up around here?”
A few hesitant glances were swapped amongst the pupils before some hands were raised. As Haley straightened her arm, her sleeve fell inches past her bony wrist and revealed the delicate pink ribbon.
“Well, Miss Tahr,” Ms. Kay scolded. “You know the dress code rules. No accessories without a practical or necessary use are permitted, come here.” She motioned with her wrinkled hand toward the front of the class. Haley shifted her eyes down and slowly stood up. Ms. Kay snatched a silver pair of scissors off the desk and held out Haley’s arm. Haley shuddered as the cold metal rode across her veins and severed the threads of the ribbon.
“Uniform check,” snapped Ms. Kay. Every student tugged at their sleeves and about fifteen of the fifty had a colorful ribbon confiscated from their outfit. Talia lifted her hand just slightly in the air and glared at the professor. She held it for a second and tore the bracelet off with her teeth. She then cocked an eyebrow and retied it into a hairband while never breaking eye contact. Little by little, her posture relaxed and she didn’t avert her eyes until her nose was buried in the book. The first sound heard was the click of her pen, which seemed to draw a collective silent breath from the class. Ms. Kay didn’t say a word. She wrote the page assignment on the board and scrutinized the school handbook with narrowed eyes until the bell dismissed the class to scurry to their next room.
Multiple students paused for a second as they passed Talia, but none of them were sure of what they had intended to say. As far as spoken words were concerned, nothing had happened at all. Such a miniscule act of defiance had left the student body in wonder. A lingering trance enveloped the school in the same underlying aura that was given off by the smoggy air.
For days later, the student population gradually began tying their hair up with colored ribbons. The males, in search of a ‘practical addition’ to their uniform, began to color their belt buckles shades of blue and green with occasional oranges and purples. The school authorities instructed classes while holding handbooks inches from their face. Classrooms developed a new tension whenever someone turned from their book to speak. No matter how obvious a simple question was, students held their breath for the answer. Neither teachers nor students were used to disobedience in any form. Talia silently smirked at the fire is Ms. Kay’s eyes as she passed each student who was rebelliously adding color to the grey atmosphere. Yet when Ms. Kay made eye contact with Talia, the smirk switched faces, and an unidentifiable chill ran down Talia’s spine; of course, all she could do was return the grimacing smile and stare down the clock until the bell broke her anxiety.
“Attention students,” a smooth voice crackled over the next morning’s speaker system. “It has come to recent attention that students have been adding accessories of various colors to their traditional grey uniform. The school has conjectured that this defeats the purpose of the uniform and could lead to problems that the uniform was intended to prevent. As we realize that we cannot ban practical items, we will provide basic rubber bands to keep your hair from your eyes and rope if you refuse to wear a standard belt. We apologize for any inconvenience and return you to your education.” A faint buzz faded from the sound system and students obediently shed the colors from their attire. Teachers collected the accessories and tossed them away.
Once again, not a single spoken word united the thoughts of the group. A few kids glanced towards Talia, but she never returned their look. It hadn’t been an organized uprising; there was nothing that anyone could stand up for. The day continued more normal than it had been in weeks, but strange stirring occurred in the back of everyone’s mind. The dismissal bell seemed to reset time as the towering doors released its prisoners to their previous routines.
The grey-outfitted crowd faded into the smoggy horizon. Haley linked arms with Talia down the sidewalk and shifted her eyes to match Talia’s gaze. The distance held nothing; the monotonous houses of the neighborhood materialized in sight. The two girls stepped into Haley’s house, breathed the filtered air, and flicked on a light.
“You see what they’re doing, right?” Talia asked Haley. “You get what they’re doing by banning anything with color, correct?”
“They’re just keeping the uniform how it always has been; this hasn’t been a problem before.” Haley responded with slight confusion.
“Think, why were we wearing the ribbons hidden in the first place?”
“I just liked having something extra, it was simply not shown because the school is strict about their uniform. It’s really not a problem.”
“It’s individuality!” Talia raised her voice, “they’re keeping us as simple as possible. They don’t allow anything that separates us; they don’t allow anything that makes us unique. Why should they care so much if we decide to add a pink ribbon? Why should they go out of their way to end it or be so smug when they succeed?” Her rant accumulated volume as she came up with more upon more questions, some with answers and some without. “Why keep us so robotic? Everything is so predictable, it seems as though we’ve only been taught a few new things each year and each of those is simply advancement on the same basic principles that were introduced in grade one.
They have something against colors, being unique. It’s difference. It’s individuality,” she repeated, looping back to the start. Unable to figure out her own questions, she became more frustrated. “We need color, there has to be some loophole. There’s got to be something we can do to negate their rules. Something they can’t figure out.” Talia punctuated her resentment with a swift punch to the wall.
“Talia!” Haley scolded, in an attempt to calm her friend. Talia flipped back her hair and drew her fist from the wall. She watched a thin trace of blood outline her index finger and met Haley’s eyes with a calmed, yet almost sadistic smile. She relaxed her muscles, looked over her shoulder, turned back and promptly swung her hand at the side of Haley’s face.
“Talia! What the hell?” Haley recoiled and pressed her hand to her eye. She blinked a few times and watched Talia who was just watching her in return. “Have you gone crazy?” The words dissolved into an echo and were answered by a laugh. Not a manic laugh, not childish giggle, simply a laugh as if everything had been a joke.
“Here’s some color,” Talia whispered, leaning in. She watched a bruise blossom under Haley’s eye. “You like blue, right? Your turn, take a swing at me! Purple? Green? It’s like a game of roulette!”
“Talia!” Haley scolded again. Talia tilted her head in wait of Haley’s contradiction, but Haley was speechless. “You may actually be right about them,” she muttered, “you’re still crazy, though.”
“I know,” Talia snickered. With that, she shook her friend’s hand and stepped out the window leaving Haley in an awkward confusion and new insight to the world she thought she knew.