The Locked and The Lost by Julia Finch (reading in the dark TXT) 📕

me are mossy trees and large brush. I am sitting cross legged, my eyes closed, and yet I know what it would look like if I opened my eyes into the dream. Eventually, I do, and infronnt of me stands a huge, bold mountain. It is perfect and pointed, and most of all, white. The snow on the mountain is white and clear and beautiful. There is no part of this dream that makes any sense, but I don't really care, or notice. The strange glassy whiteness of the mountain is suddenly right in front of me. I look down and find that I am at the very top of the mountain. High up in the clouds. I try and take a step, but my feet are stuck. I looked down, and can't see past my knees. I try to dig myself out, but the holes keep filling. The snow is not solid, but in fact, a powder. In pictures, I had never seen it like this. My dream logic finds it completely normal, but a small part of me questions the snow. Is it real snow or is the solid slabs of white that I have always imagined as snow the real one. Something flutters into my eyes, and I blink them. At first I think that it is snow falling from the sky, but I can't see it. I wake up and find wood dust in my hair and on my face. I brush it off. and look out of the log, out the window. It is still dark, but I hurry down stairs anyway. I want to be down there before anyone else wakes up.

I go to the elevator's entrance, but the light on top is already on, showing that it is moving floors. A ding sounds from within and a mechanical voice says "second floor." Before my brain entirely registers what's happening, I jump backwards and hide among the corn stalks. I hear my dad's wistles ringing throughout the room. Once his noise reaches what sounds to be the middle of the field, I creep as stealthfully as I can back to the elevator. The cornstalks swish ever so gently as I move. My dad's wistles stop, but I can hear his footsteps. I freeze, worried he has noticed the movement of the corn, but the sound of feet het quieter, not louder. He is heading away from me. I run the last few steps to the elevator, ignoring the corn's movement. My dad is a bit oblivious sometimes.

I hit the first floor elevator key as soon as the elevator doors open, and wait anxiously as the elevator goes down. I'm worried someone will hear it, but I get to the ground floor without anyone noticing. My mom hums as she gets ready for work, but she remains in her room. The clock says that it's just before six in the morning, so I've got another hour to sleep. I slip into my room and pull the blanket over my head. Sleep pulls me in, and the darkness of the tunnels comes again in my sleep.

Chapter 4: Choosing Day

It's early morning, I think. A small stream of light shines above my bed. I stare up at the ceiling, unmoving. It has been 4 days since I went to Matt's. I haven't gone anywhere except home and school. My mom thinks I'm moping because Choosing Day is so near. It is on the Saturday of this week. I glance at my clock to check what day it is now. If you have the same pattern everyday, with no plans or planning, the day of the week gets forgotten easily. The clock says that it is 5:08 on saturday morning. 

Saturday! I bolt up right, my body moving faster than my brain. I have to get up, I'm going to be late! I promptly fall over. As I stand back up, my brain registers the first half of the time. It's also only 5:00 in the morning. The Choosing Ceremony doesn't even start until 3:00 in the afternoon. I groan and flop back into bed. I lay there for quite some time before my mom comes in to get me up. As soon as she enters the room it's go, go, go! 

First there's the clothes. We finally decided on a pair of black slacks and a blue blouse. Then we move to the hair, which my mom plates into a swirling braid going down my back. My brownish blond hair looks just a little more golden once its tied up nicely like this. After my mom finishes my hair, she steps out of the room for a minute. When she comes back, a beautiful purple pendant is hanging from her hand on a golden chain. I gasp, and my mom tries to hide a pleased smile. "I'm glad you like it," shse says. "It's your Choosing day present, but I thought you should wear it to the ceremony.

"Thank you!" I say, getting up to hug her. My mom squeezes me to her just, and then turns me around. She hangs the chain around me neck. 

"It's amythest" she tells me, pointing at the purple stone. I thank her again and she leaves the room to go get some other stuff ready for the party that evening. I look around my room trying to think of anything I might have forgotten. My eyes land on The Lost Country, and I immedeatly feel guilty. How could I have even thought about just picking up my life and going on a potential suicide trip outside. My family loves me so much, even though I don't really fit in with them or the community. I rub the amythest pendant between my fingers. It will be my reminder from now on, I think to myself. I do belong here, and I can't just leave without my friends and family. My dad's voice from the doorway surprises me. 

"You look beautiful," he says. 

"Thanks," I say back, trying to settle my nerves. I am suddelny very jumpy. Excited for the ceremony as well nervous. Worried I won't get the job I want, worried I might run away at the last second, off to Cascadia and never look back. I sigh to myself, wearied by my thoughts. I turn around and head out my bedroom door. It's almost time to leave.

 

 

*                    *                    *

 

The Community Center takes a while to get to from my house. Even though it doesn't really matter because everyone lives in a confined space now, the farming homes tend to be on the outside of a township, near the edge of town. The community center is right next to City Hall, in the middle of town. We could have walked, but my parents didn't want me to get messy before the ceremony, so they rented a bicycle carrige. The drivers arrived perfectly on time, and we all climbed into one of the two seats in the back. My parents rode on one bike, while Colin and I rode on another. Bicycle carriges are just like normal bikes, but they're longer, with a bench on the back of them for passengers. Some families have their own bikes for getting around. It's the only non walking transportation there is here.

Imprint

Text: ©2014 Tess Reding Hoffart
Publication Date: 08-18-2014

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To my sister Ruth, who constantly bugged me to start putting pen to paper (or fingers to keys rather) and start writing down all my ideas.