When we were twelve, mom got horribly sick, then she died. 
There was something about the suddenness of losing her that filled me with an emotional cavity. I was always sad, demotivated, but that changed when I learned about Martinet's army.

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Slowly gathering my senses, I wake up in a very uncomfortable position. I sit up and flip back over back to the ceiling. I roll off the bed and fall onto the old creaking wood. It's freezing cold. Using the arm I still have, I push myself up and make my way to the bathroom.
I look like a mess. On the bathroom door handle my suit is hanging. The golden color goes perfectly with my hair. Speaking of... I begin to style my short hair on the top of my head and pull out the dye. I want something to pop out today to contrast against my dark and round features. I look at my many color options: red, purple, blonde, brunette, oh so many choices. I pick up the blonde and begin with the process at the top of my curls, leaving the faded sides the same brown it's always been. Clara said I look more mature with my hair short like this. For once, I agree with her. I don't look like a child with a pumpkin head.  But, she did also say it's be easier to manage than loose flowing hair of any length. Wrong. Or I could just be bad at doing hair.
Once I finish putting my suit on, I head downstairs and fold my arms behind my back to look the part. Mamma sits silently. Not even her eyes make an effort to look at me. "I'm so proud of you." I say, mimicking her voice. I am the only one of her many offspring to actually finish school. Even the adopted child didn't finish things out. Ha! Of course she's proud of me. Today is my free day!
"Your father and everyone would be so proud of you. I'm sure they see you now and they're all acting crazy in that annoying way they celebrate." I say in her place again. "You always talk like a child, Mamma." I joke. "Your criticism could get you a job as a famous critic. And your appetite as well." I remark. And so the battle begins. Back and forth I passive aggressively feed myself rude retorts and pretend that it's not all just in my head. Honesty, deep down, I think we both take it hard every time I do this. Just because she isn't moving doesn't mean she isn't there. In the end Mamma won, mainly because I let her.
I leave the table after finishing and head for the door. Clara should be here any minute now, then we can go off to the ceremony. It's unbelievable how much we've matured. We're ready to be grown women. We're eighteen and prepared to take on the world by grabbing the role we've always dreamed of for this world by the balls. I've worked so hard to get this. It's unbelievable the stories I can tell about what I've done to get noticed. To become somebody.
I stare at my arm that finally had been installed back on me. Without it, where would I be? Where would I be if I hadn't joined that group? If Simon hadn't confronted me? Would I be as strong as I am now? Would I even still join? Would I still have my arm? I look down to my hand and clasp it into a fist. I decided to go though the tedious task of polishing and oiling the metal machine for the special occasion. I messaged Dia to come over and put it back on me earlier. Even through the sleeves of my suit, many can probably still tell that the arm isn't pure muscle, but an enhancement. An enhancement I had to get because of her. Is she the reason why I'm doing this? For revenge? I shake my head. No. This is to protect my people from the outside dangers. And this arm, is my one ticket trip to getting to the top to do that.
As I walk to the door, I pass by grandmama's old stash of bottled essences. My eyes can't help but turn away. She gave them to me when I was little, and, ever since them, I've been begging to use them. Mamma kept pushing it off as I grew, making up excuses like I need to be a teenager to wear it or it makes you ugly when you spray it on. Some of her excuses sounded so horrifying I think I'm still psychologically damaged from the thought that it could still be true. There's no stopping me now. Sneaking to the shelf, I extend my arm to grab a bottle and just use a little spritz on my neck. But, once I got one on undetected and smelt the flowery scent, I couldn't help but spray some more and more.
I stop spritzing myself when I hear the ringing of the doorbell. I rush to the door calling out to Mamma that I've got it. Swinging the door open, I can feel my smile wide and excited, but even this smile proved lesser than Clara's, who's smile literally went from her left ear to the right. My best friend since who knows when. My only link keeping me connected to a normal world. I look at her outfit, a pastel old style suit. Just like mine, the back end of hers drapes down to her knees kind of like a dress; we had planned the suit theme a while back last year to look professional yet beautiful. "Are you ready?" Clara asks me, her grin is so wide it looks kind of looks painful. "I don't look ready!?" I shout; I check every part of my outfit to see if I'm missing anything. "I know it seems kind of dangerous to join the program. But my brothers are famous for their jobs, so we have extra benefits! We'll never get bullied again!" Her voice sounds how her face looks, she must be in so much pain from how big that smile is, and she's literally screaming, but so am I, I guess.
But, if anyone were to ask me, I'd say Clara shouldn't be doing this. This kind of job just doesn't fit her. Yeah, she has leg enhancements that'll make her run fast, but, other than that, she's a fragile little butterfly. Her family is a clan of heroes, but not her. She just has a mother that married her into it. Her physique should be used for modeling plus sized bathing suits or something less dangerous. I'm sure her family feels the same way. Pumping her fists into the air with that excited smile, she looks so innocent. Her small almond shaped eyes looked closed, but I could still see the glint of determination within them. I can't imagine the outside taking that away from her. It hurts me to think that could happen to my best friend. I smile back at her.
"Alright! Alright! I'm excited for us, but you need to calm down! Geez! I'm worried some people from our old class signed up for this though... it could turnout to be just another bad experience." I say, knowing that the odds all of them would transfer over are mostly low. Our class is a full population of what amounts to a historical "continent" of children. I just need to find a way to convince her to not join without seeming like the bad guy. I would have thought her brothers would have convinced her out of this by now. Speaking of which, I haven't heard anything about her brothers in a while. "It's a shame you think like that. We have to push through." Clara says as she takes my shoulders and drags me out the house. All of us are ready to take on the world; some more than others. I didn't do all that extra credit for nothing. I hope.

The field was a rainbow of girls circling around the stage in our chairs. Each and every girl "of age" in the Quarters are here waiting to decide their new home. The boys got their own ceremony much earlier than us. The Possessors like to have the boys become of age earlier than the girls for some reason.
I elbow Clara in the arm beside me when Macinwrought comes on stage. She's dressed in a flamboyant bejeweled emerald dress and sparkling jewelry is wrapped all around her neck and wrists. Not until she makes an elegant turn do I notice there are diamonds dragging against the floor. She's unbelievably small in size and can barely reach the podium where she places the symbol of her Quarter, a golden trimmed eagle. Clara loves her of all the Possessors. Mamma used to call her a sensationalist fanatic before Macinwrought became the famous Possessor she is now. and before she stopped talking.
Macinwrought's company is the enterprise of entertainment. She's developed everything that makes us "happy, happier, and happiest", from pagers to candles, to radios, to carriages, and instruments. Anything you can name, she's somehow found the blueprints for. There are jobs to do nothing; nothing but rummage in the InfraTowers and find them blueprints in a desk or something that survived. Sounds like a dangerous job but when you compare it to the job I want, it's nothing. Clara's all about the danger, and, if she doesn't want that job, she could enjoy any other style based job. All of the famous performers go there before they become famous.
The next Possessor steps onto stage. He's always been known for being huge, but I've never seen him in person. His clothes are covered in soot and left over food, and, as he walks, the fat beneath his chin jiggles up in unison as his legs go up and down. He carelessly drops the symbol of his Quarter, a gigantic peace of coal carved into the shape of an old-timey mole. A bit of the hand chips off. He coughs a little on the small statue then finds his seat beside Macinwrought, who obviously looks disgusted at the sight of him.
The end of the line Quarter belongs to the roundly Mr. Smogginson. If you have no other option and your parents no longer want to waste their resources on you, then you are sent there. There's nothing for you there but working basically full days in the creation centers. Macinwrought may be the creator of the new inventions but Smogginson is the producer and the distributer. You don't gain fame or feel any kind of exhilaration when you work under him. The only thing you gain is a place to work, sleep, and eat. That's all they supply you with, no currency.
Clara and I look at one another with worried faces. I hope neither one of us have to ever see that place. Next comes Martinet. Another large man, but not in the sense of "Smogginson large". Martinet is nothing but pure muscle and the essence of what someone should fear. His steps are crisp and solid as they echo throughout the silent place. No mumbles or silent whispering, no turning heads to look at one another, and no not looking at him. There is something about him compared to the rest of the Possessors that resembles pure power.
The Possessor of protection. He's raised a military meant for the protection of every Quarter from internal and external dangers. If you join his Quarter, then your option of a occupation is as a police, scanner, boarder guard, or surveyor soldier. Of course you can advance in the ranks, Clara's brothers being prime examples of that. Everyone knows they rose in the ranks after only a month of being there, one twin dragging the other along with him up the ladder. We're too young to join his Quarter for now, but I think he's here because he wants to see the possible future recruits. He walks up and places a plain dark bowl on the podium. He sits down.
Lady Eleanoria, the educational Possessor. Everyday transportation units arrived to our homes in each Quarter, and they would take us to her Quarter to become the "shining lights" she envisions us to become. If you join her Quarter, then you'll become an educator or a transporter. It's a nice option to have, just not one of my primary choices. Her stride is prideful, she reminds me of a retired mighty warrior princess my grandmother would tell me about at night. Her muscles were visible through her modest gray dress. She looks like she could have enhancements like me, but all of that is flesh, bone, and muscle. She places down a white vase with an black owl painted on it.
The next and lesser Possessors step out and place down their symbols. Franchise, healthcare, civility, and unity. Civility and unity are really the same jobs though. Unity more based on the psychology and cultural surveillance of humans just in case some decide to go against the civil peace we hold and cause philosophical anarchy among our community. The divide didn't fare out too well before, we've all learned that. Civility just being a job where you research new things to help assist and protect our civil lives from the physical things Martinet's Quarter can't fight off hand to hand.
Once they all finally sit, we get to the exciting part. They call our names forward and we choose. Clara and I pat each other's knees excitedly as quiet as we could manage. I stop hitting her and sit back in my chair. I close my eyes and wonder what they could have chosen if they were here. I can see it now, one by one, each of them choosing the one I'll join for in the future. They call for the first names, all called up by date. The Septembers go first.
It's been seven hours already and we aren't even done with the month before mine. Clara's fallen asleep, and I'm on the verge of dosing off with her. Then, I did.

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I'm at the beach. I've never really been there, but this is a dream and I've seen pictures of grandmama there. The beach is the most dangerous place anyone could go. I put my hand on the ground. Cold and solid. I can't imagine something that doesn't exist in my own reality. What does it feel like there grandmama? What did it feel like then? I sigh and stare out to the sky, an identical image to the one in the picture. Motionless, it stares back at me.
By the time I'm awake, they already passed my month. I shake Clara awake, they've gone through her month too. I look around the crowd and most every girl has already gotten up to join the groups going into the Quarters. Clara lazily wakes and realizes just the same as I do. More than half the seats are empty and we're surrounded by a good amount of missing people and empty chairs. Do they skip you if you miss your name? I've never heard of anyone not being called up! Then, I hear the click of a flat heel on wood. And another, and other in a controlling cadence. Loud and powerful. The other girls I notice, that are in the same situation as Clara and I, look to the stage. Front and center stands Martinet, and, behind him, the rest of the Possessors are in a line.
What's going on here? Absolutely no one has a clue.

 

"For those who have not been acknowledged in today's scheduled ceremony due to the skipping in their name, do not fret. I have had the elite leaders of my Quarter handpicked you for this special occasion. We have a proposition for you and your future. Once I grant you this opportunity, there is allowance to decline, and, once you do so, you will choose between one of the rest." He looks back to the rest of the Possessors. "I am experimenting with a new process. At an early, less experienced, age I will recruit a small unit to shadow and experience the roles of my Quarter, and, once reaching the right age, you will become elite experienced soldiers that are higher than the rest. This offer can be rejected if you find yourself unworthy. Still, for those who wish to rise to the challenge, are allowed to step forward and prove yourself to the world, which needs you now more than ever." He tells us.

I know exactly what he means when he says now more than ever. There may be a human peace among us, but the rest, the outside of our species have gone mad and want to kill us off. The animals have evolved. Also a select few of humans came out of nowhere and have been dubbed Stalkers. We even decided to kick them from being human they are so messed up. No one stood up to the challenge. Most of us, excluding experienced people like me, have never even seen a Stalker or even a simple evolved ant. If they did, they wouldn't be here today. If we did see a Stalker the obvious indicator is their appearance which they can't hide. To human eyes, they have obvious discoloration of the skin, whether it be black or white marks on certain parts of the body that stands out. We're so cautious of this we even get our unique looking models tested. But... I'm getting off track. The whole point of us joining later on was so that we could experience the real world without having our parents or educators baby us.

But, I'm experienced. I should be the first to step up, it'd make a good first impression. Make me noticeable above the rest earlier on, so then I could easily show off my skill.
I start to stand from my seat, but notice that some other girl is already on stage. Her dress was red and very showy, not showy as in Macinwrought showy but showy as in we can see a lot of her skin. Mamma would kill me if I wore a dress like that. I stood up third after another girl who was huge in comparison to the rest of the girls. She's big like me, but I can tell that she's pure muscle instead. We walk to the stage, and I notice that Clara decided to come up with us. Some more girls followed after and we all dip our hands into the plain bowl. When I take my hands out I look at them and become nauseated, the liquid dripping from my hands was black, but a tint of red showed as it dripped between my fingertips. Please tell me that isn't blood.
Some girls broke off to join the other Quarters, but those of us who didn't stood tall behind Martinet. I try to get a good look at all the girls that joined, it's not a lot. I glance over to the girl who stood second. "Hi, I'm Jordalina. My friend –friends call me Jordan." I whisper to her. God, I sound like a loser who has no friends. Not saying that I'm not. "Bambi." She tells me, her voice is booming even as a whisper. Clara pinches me in the shoulder and puts her finger to her lips to shut me up.

"Congratulations. All of you, you will please your nation with your prowess." He says, and then he just steps off stage. The other Possessors follow him out. Those are the most words I've ever heard him say, and he said them to me.

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  What did I want back then? How did I start off on my train ride to hell?
It was pouring down rain outside. I'm wrapped up in a wool blanket, resting on the couch. The house is so dead now. We still haven't taken down any of the black drapes, and by now the flowers have already wilted and died away. Dad's already gone off to work. I wish he'd tell me what it's like out there. Fighting off those monsters, protecting the people, being a true hero. I sigh and lay my head back, looking up to the ceiling. It's been a month or two since then, and, right now, I haven't felt more alone. I clench my fist, her image pops up in my head. She had lost so much weight; she was nothing but skin and bones. That black tattoo that randomly appeared on her neck advancing along the lines of her veins. I would do anything for her, but, I can't fulfill this one wish. Her last wish.
I need to find out what it meant. I need to know why she died. Hard knocking jolts me off the couch. Seán, with his hat soaked, dripping, and shadowing his face, knocks again on the window beside me. I head to the door and open up. The dingy musky smell follows Seán as usual; he always has the smell of something dead following behind him, but it's even more extreme with the rain. His clothes are tattered and soaked, and he non stop sneezes. I hand him over my blanket. He puts his hat on the coffee table and sloppily sits down. He's just as affected as I am. "How's my partner in crime doing?" He asks me, and pats my shoulder. I ignore his question and tell him what extra we have that he can eat. He nods and takes some corn.
"I've got some stuff about what happened." He whispers as he munches down. I look at him, met eyes widen in surprise. Seán went out of his way doing research for me? I was wondering why he never came back home anymore. I just assumed dad had kicked him out. Now seeing him again, he looked skinny just like her.

"But, there's just one problem. There's no way in hell I'd be able to talk to her now." He sighs and finishes off the food. "What? Are we talking about necromancy?" I ask him, even more shocked. "I'm not talking about that nonsense. I don't really feel strong enough to explain everything right now, but how much do you know about our current 'history'?" He asks; his voice is pretty quiet.
"You mean the historical significance of Stalkers today? Well... in the last generation, the generation of our parents, the world was being constructed at its prime, since a very long time. As it is already well known, the Possessors were born as part of that generation. The world, having been divided into eight Quarters and led by the Possessors, was coming together. The humans built the Four Great Walls to divide between the quarters and the Border Walls to enclose and protect the race from outwardly forceful dangers. Then, we accepted and embraced the Stalker species from an unknown origin. We still saw them as humans then. At the meeting point of the Four Great Walls, the Possessors met monthly and governed each other's interactions and the world. One day, I forget the exact date or the reason why, they all unanimously agreed to an order to make the Stalkers go on a diaspora to one Quarter, for an unknown reason. This was the worst of all eight. The Stalkers, rather reluctantly, obeyed these orders, and they created individual villages within. Striving in their own Quarter, the Stalkers appeared appeased. Although, many privileges that humans had in their Quarters were not existent in the Stalker Quarter. Stalkers would walk however many miles that were required to get to the exit of their Quarter and the entrance of the next to get to a market to buy anything they could not produce themselves. Becoming discontent with their conditions, the beginnings of the secretive Syndicate in the Stalker Society emerged. They began to rampage through human Quarters and raid their homes and facilities. They stole valuables and necessary products for survival and distributed this throughout the Stalker villages. In response to this vigilante action, the Possessors organized another meeting, and, in this meeting, they agreed upon removing the rights of the Stalker race indefinitely. In other terms, Stalkers lost all rights, and they basically weren't human anymore. That's when crime rose, not only crimes in the Stalker community, but crimes against their peoples. Two militant groups rose: the Syndicate and the Humanitarian Protection of the Unevolved Few, the militant group which dad is in right now; though he doesn't seem too patriotic about it. For thirteen years, the war ravaged in, and relations worsened between Stalkers and humans. As a last stand, the Possessors ordered a final diaspora of the Stalkers. They were all sent to the Border Walls and they, to this day, remain in the other side of our protecting Border Walls." I recite the story that's been embedded into my brain since I was small.
"Damn. I didn't need the whole story." He says and stretches. "Then I guess you get why I can't ask. Cause she's on the other side. If we want to know the truth. We need to ask them. And if you want to ask them, when need to get to the other side." He told me.

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"You dropped this." A friendly voice says, sweet as honey. I open my eyes, and before me a girl stands, smiling and holding a knife by the sharp end out towards me. As she stares down at me there was something charming about her green eyes, one being lighter colored than the other, and her beautiful facial features. She looks around my age, maybe a year or two younger. Her smile is perfect but her canines had a sharp point to them.

"Do you. Believe that there is a God and Devil?" She asks me. "That is a real big question... I'll just say I'm really doubting." I conclude. She stays quiet and replies, "Then why are you wearing the cross? If you don't believe in God and the devil, demons and angels..." I stare out ahead into nothing. "It was a gift from my mom." I answer. "You don't know anything about them, and you call her a mother?" She asks, ominously. I look at her from the corner of my eye, she's staring at her legs. "My grandfather believed. He did. Just as my uncle and father. Every night they'd walk through the halls, reading off the beginning. Over and over."

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"Then, they started reading the end. Again and again. Most would say my grandfather went too far. He wanted to play God, so he did. He made his angels just as he created his demons." She says. Rain starts pouring on over us. "They said we could stay here for the night." She tells me just before leaving the kitchen to the dorm rooms. Strangest volunteer I've met yet.

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