Location - The Center, Siberia
Lila's Age - 6
The untested girls' hair is braided into one long plait, a white ribbon securing it at the end. Our dresses are white and pressed, our socks white, shoes white.
We're lined up in five perfect rows, five girls in each row. We stand three inches between us, backs straight, head level with the floor.
The untested boys stand across from us. The boys wear white, too. White suits, white loafers, white socks. Their hair is short, combed back.
The tested girls wear red dresses. They have red ribbons in their hair. Their shoes are red, their socks red. They stand to our left.
The tested boys are to the right, across from the tested girls. They, too, wear red. Red shoes, red shirts, red pants.
We form a wall.
Four groups on all four walls.
To trap the tributes. The victims. The two who will die.
Today is the Ceremony.
Today, two will be tested. Proven worthy.
Today, one Brother and one Sister will end a life.
The boys are lined up in six rows. Five boys in each row. There are a few new boys. I wonder who will be chosen, who will slit someone's throat.
It's so small, this room
The walls are white
But soon the red will roll roll down down
Thick blood will soon roll down the floor floor oors
White shoes to red
Sir comes in, boasting his smile
He's happy. Very happy. He likes to test us. He likes it when we're proven worthy. He wants us to be worthy to him.
Worthy of praise
Of pride
Worthy to bring glory to this family, our Brothers and Sisters
Sir walks around the room
Everyone straightens up, like the Dominoes we set up in the classroom
Clacking
Clackclackclack
Down and down
We spin and dance around them
Pockets full of posies
We
All
Fall
D
O
W
N
Sir stands in the middle of the room, but he will not be the victim. He will never be a tribute. He wants us to know this.
We all do.
He casts warm looks to the tested ones.
Then he looks at us untested ones.
He raises his hands and moves them around, like we're in a choir and he's our conductor. But we only can sing the songs composed by Death.
"And, of course, girls go first!" He smiles. "And which lucky one of my Daughters will be chosen? Which one will be proven worthy to me?"
We stand still
Waiting
Some are hoping
Some are not
I want to be worthy to someone
Something
Then I will be loved
Right?
Right
Tighr?
Right.
Sir looks over us. Over us who are untested. He looks at each girl, each girl of the untested twenty-five.
And then his eyes land on me
He smiles
It's my turn
Like lines at the asylum
I am the leader
The leader today
"102," is what Sir calls me, we are all numbered. All numbers in his equation. "It is your turn. You are to be tested today."
The other untested girls look at me longingly.
For those tested are desirable
They now have the opportunity to be given what they hadn't had before. They now have the hope to rise up.
Now, I can rise.
I step out of the line, and into the middle of the room. On the white table lays a knife. I pick it up. The metal shines under the fluorescent lighting.
It shines like a star.
I haven't seen stars in a long, long time. Maybe they aren't real anymore. But today, I am the star. I am the one Sir has chosen.
The leader of the line.
The winner of the game.
The small person who is brought into the room walks calmly, solemnly, as all of the tributes before her have.
All those tributes are unworthy
Sacrifices for the untested to prove themselves
The girl looks at me. She's only slightly taller than me. Her hair is brown, her eyes dull. She wears a golden dress.
Golden to show that she is to be used
Golden for her sacrifice for us
Golden to mark her fate
The girl has a young face, wide eyes. But she doesn't see me, she doesn't see anything anymore. No one who wears gold does.
I hold the knife in my hand
The girl drops down to her knees
She doesn't fight me. She doesn't cry. Her eyes gleam of hope, of a wishful longing for her life to seep out of the cut I am supposed to make on her throat.
She is as quiet as all of her predecessors before her. All of the tributes chosen to wear the golden garments.
"Today, the untested will be tested. All must be tested. All must be proven worthy. All who are mine must prove themselves worthy of being mine," Sir recites.
I've heard the words before.
The words of the Ceremony.
Today marks the day Sir will wholly own me, as he owns all of the girls and the boys who wear red.
All those who don red are his.
I am going to don his red.
I will be worthy, tested.
The knife almost raises itself to the girl's neck. She remains still. She doesn't flinch or move away. She has succumbed to what gold means.
I slide the metal across her skin
She falls to the side
And then the blood rolls
It rolls
Rollsrolls
Down
Down
Sir's red
It coats me, my body and my soul
Sir has now become me
A part of me
I am his
I belong to him
The Brothers and Sisters around me clap. My Ceremony is done. I am worthy. I am one of the tested girls.
I walk to the red girls
Sir's girls
They cast me proud smiles
I stand amongst them, in my red dress
The red that covers the floor
The red that proves me worthy to Sir.
Sir smiles at me.
I smile.
The tribute has been taken away.
The red has been cleared.
Now the untested boy goes.
All must be tested.
All must be worthy.
———
Hi, loves!
What did you think of this chapter? Does this give you more insight into how Lila lived at the Center— how she became who she is today?
Do you want more chapters like this, more views into the Center?
What do you think of our protagonist, Lila Monet, so far?
Let me know your thoughts!
Please, vote and comment.
Au revoir,
Eva