Outcast

I blink my eyes, trying to quickly adjust them to the light. I stand up, still blinking and walk away from the metal chair. The usual headache is raging in my head, so bad that I see cross-eyed. It hasn’t ever been this bad before – why is it so bad? What have they changes about the Visions that are making me react this way? The light is too bright and every little sound that the other students make while they wait for their Visions – too much. It is so bad that I just want to curl up into a ball on the middle of the hard floor and rock.
I think I might just skip lunch and go straight up to my room for the juice. Maybe, after that, I’ll come back down and do my homework that is piling up in the Technology Room – no one is there during lunch. It is my usual escape, I feel somewhat safe there. It is not like the Tech Room is off limits during Lunch – it is free to any student who has a class here. No one comes though, I have no idea why. They like the Library better. I do too, but a lot of my classmates go to the Library during Lunch. And if a lot of people are at the Library, then there are stares and the whispers. It is a shame, I love the Library. I love the way the books smell – the old pages, crinkling and light brown. They remind me of the way the world must have been before Society – all about books and finding out things for yourself. But, again, the stares and whispers are too much for me – I get enough of that in class.
But I have to get through Physical Education first, and that will be a trial in and among itself. There are about 50 of us here right before Lunch. Most of us loud and rowdy – most of us. All of us hungry and anticipating the upcoming half hour of chatter. Ugh. The Techno Room is sounding more and more inviting.
I stop in the center of the Gym and shut my eyes. I need to get situated. I cannot go up against my peers like this, but I cannot just go to the Healer’s Wing either. I have to push through this and seem strong – else my classmates will have more to laugh and whisper about. I stay immobile half a second longer, and then walk up to the Weapons Corner. I like this station the best – which means I should probably leave it for last. I do not though, and I need to vent some anger and confusion. I need to think. This is the one station that will let me do that – all the others are based on tactics, calculation and leadership. Some of them do not even require physical exertion – what is the point of having a class where you get to move around and take action when that is not what you actually do?
As I reach the Weapon Station, I take in a deep breath. This is my time and anyone who says otherwise can just back away. There is a reason that I love this particular station. I love the feel of the leather, metal or plastic in my hands. I love the feeling of holding something dangerous, I feel powerful as if nothing in the entire world can possibly touch me. And nothing can. With a weapon in my hands, my peers back away and give me a wide berth – without all the whispers for once. It is almost peaceful, the way I am surrounded by my own bubble of calm and quiet.
I pick up a long, thin metal sword. A rapier. I have not tried this weapon yet. Something about the fact that it is very outdated intrigues me. I like old things – books, swords, even the way of life that people had way back in the early 2000’s. I know about their ways of life from some of the oldest books in the Library. No one really expects you to read them, but I did once. The book talked about people who went to school where they wanted after 12 years of required and basic schooling. If you wanted to, you did not even have to go to that specialized type of schooling if you did not want to. Then, after that, you went into whatever Calling you wanted, and if you did not like it, you could try another. Oh how I wish I am given that chance – to make mistakes and figure myself out. I want to live like they did back then.
If anyone else finds out that I think these things – even as random comets shooting around in my mind – I would be Outcast right after a speedy Interrogation. Maybe, if I am found extremely treacherous, I’ll have to donate my body for the good of Science. That is what happened to Fangor. They did not even give him a long Interrogation. They found him guilty and gave him a sleeping liquid. After he was soundly snoring, they injected him with another liquid. It is clear and smells of nothing. The only difference in its appearance from water is the Liquid is as viscous as your normal, everyday maple syrup. The other, more obvious, difference is that it kills you, painlessly. And, while in runs through your blood streams, it preserves everything it touches. You could be put in a storage room for millennia and still be just as you were the day you died.
The sword’s soft, leather-covered hilt balances perfectly in my hand. I know that this is my favorite weapon by far – even without learning how to use it yet. The Instructor for this station waits calmly as I try out the thin metal blade, testing it in my hands. Yes, I think I shall like this one. I turn to the Instructor slowly, with my eyes still on the sword.
“I think I shall like to try this one, if that is satisfactory to you sir.” You always need to be respectful to your superiors here at the Academy. They expect nothing but the highest regard from the students here at the Top Academy of Excellence.
The Instructor nods and walks over with a slight rhythm in his footsteps – as if he were dancing. He comes to a stop and gestures for me to take my stance. Relaxing my muscles, I crouch into a low position with my weapon over my head. The Instructor smiles and shakes his head – I have done it wrong. But I do not expect to get it right the first time – this is not the Physical Academy.
The rest of my Physical Education class is full of parries and thrusts, defensive and offensive. If only I could stay here for eternity. Then I would be able to feel superior to everyone else, I would be fearless.
***
The lunch bell rings and the entirety of my class rushes to the double doors like a mob of rats to a piece of food. The common denominator is the food – and the rats if you think about it hard enough.
I do not think the food is actually what they are looking forward to – it is the freedom. They can talk to each other without the supervision of the Instructors – Society’s minions. At lunch, there is so much noise that you could not possibly pinpoint one voice and one person. Society probably will not even know the conversation took place. And, even if Society does find out, it is highly unlikely they will find out it is you. Unless, you talk about something Forbidden outside of lunch – then you are on the path to Execution or being Outcast.
Do not go there Gwendolyn, I think, it only leads down bad paths and you do not want to end up like Fangor, now do you? I shake my head gently, dissipating the thoughts of Forbidden Topics. On autopilot, I make my way down the stairs to the Technology Classroom. My headache rages on, pulsing in my skull. I need to get my homework done, so I can go into my room tonight and just lay there on my bed with a tall glass of raspberry-pomegranate juice. Yum.