New blueberry.
CW: Child abuse, Child Murder, Unnamed Child harmed, Graphic imagery, Abuse, Slavery, ect..
Roll Call that morning came fast and loud. The bells rang through out the commune. The lone yell of Overseer Martheana followed, "Get moving! You children of whores! Get your asses moving!" The bell nearly covered it up, but the sound of the whip was still heard.
Girl, along with all the other Girls, were quick to get dressed. Everyone only had two dresses and one night dress. They use to not even have that, but Grandfather's wife, Grandmother Isha, had thrown a fit when she had heard. Everyone ended up with two extra dresses after that.
She was going to have to wash her dresses that night.
But that was normal. Cleaning her dresses at night. It was easier that way too. No one to bother her, no Overseers counting her every breath, waiting for the wrong twitch. She was left alone.
For the most part at least.
Sometimes she got a visitor who would sit at her side and watch her and maybe help if he was in the mood. He never stayed long though, never for the daylight know him. He was taller, in fact, if Girl was asked about his height, she would say he was around the height of the Winged Man. Taller with different wings.
He was sad all the time too.
What was with all the really tall ones being winged and sad?
She should ask.
She would.
The cloth of the dresses was scratchy, rough, and caused more sores then the prickly bushes that made up The Thicket. She smoothed out her dress. Her chipped nails caught on the fraying stitching, she ran her hands over them again, the hems caught her attention. They were coming loose and catching her nails; she would have to fix those before they get worse. Her Dam always told her to keep the stitching well and good and you could keep the dress for longer.
She would fix it during the washing.
She stood up and her feet touched the dirt. The cold, slightly wet, dirt.
She looked down.
Her shoes were missing.
Girl, like all other Girls, wore cloth slippers that were nearly dirty all the time. The only time they were clean was wash day. The slippers were too small, they were pinching her big toes and her heels ached, but it just another thing that she needed to fix – and she was going to fix them! That night!
But she couldn't! because her shoes were gone.
She looked under her bed, she looked around her bed, but nothing.
"Something wrong D23?"
The one who asked the question was both a new voice and a new face.
The Girl, number unknown, was older. Nearly old enough to became a Dam or a Sister of the Four. Her hair was greasy and yellow, blonde her Dam use to say. Her eyes were tired. Like everyone. The only ones that didn't have tired eyes were the Master-Sire, the Mistress, and The Overseers.
"Girl's shoes are missing." She said while still looking around it. Maybe one of the rats took them? Wouldn't be the first time, the rats in the Girls' barracks were mean. She would know, she had to fight a few for food.
"Shoes?" The Unknown Girl said. She must have just been pulled from her own Dam and put in with the other Girls.
"Yes," Girl stopped looking when the second round of the Roll Call bells rang. "Got to go, got to go, got to go!" Her voice got higher but quieter as she ran, bare foot, to the door.
Roll Call was a line-up right outside the Girls' largest barracks.
All the Girls stood in line waiting for the Mistress and the Overseers. Still as the statues that were darted around the Master-Sire's court yard.
Thankfully, it was a warm day with a nice breeze; even if the breeze did carry the smell of ash and burning flesh.
Girl stood still, her toes digging into the ground as she waited, when a thud happened. She, like many other Girls, leaned forward. Now, Girl wasn't the first one in line and she wasn't the last one in line either. She was in the middle with taller and shorter Girls all around her. When the 'thud' happened, and she leaned forward, she did so carefully, with all the caution of dealing with the Brothers and Sisters of the Four.
Girls were supposed to stay in formation, Girls are not leave the line till after the release command from the Overseers was said, Girls, no matter what, could not hurt help a 'fallen Girl'.
A 'Fallen Girl' was a girl that fell out of the Roll Call line. Roll Call could start in the morning, before the sun was even up, and end with the moon high in the sky. Once Roll Call started: Girls could not leave it.
Not a foot out of line, not breath that was too big or too loud, and no begging. Never beg. Never speak. Never utter a word.
Dams and their child darted from their dens. Heads and eyes down, hand clutching to each other tight, as they moved fast on the paths around the Commune.
Don't look at the line; down it or up it.
Don't look at the 'Fallen Girl'.
A girl had fallen. Her knees buckled, her face went pale like death, and her breathing was ragged and broken. She hit the ground hard, blood dripped from her head, her dress already dirty was even more so. She was still with only her breathing being movement. A hush fell over the Girls; not that any of them were talking. But the silence of heavy breathing, the stillness of bodies, and the fear that settled within them had it's own weight.
Girl locked her fingers together, holding her hands close to herself. Dam had always said to help when the chance was given, that not helping was turning your back on Humanity, and Humanity had fought too hard just the see the back of someone. Her toes dug into the ground deeper, she wanted to help, but helping made you a Bad Girl, and Girl did not want to be a Bad Girl again!
Girl bit her scarred lips and looked to the ground when the Overseer coming walking.
Not running.
Walking.
The boots fell with force of someone taking a daily stroll through the commune. It fell like her Master-Sire when he came calling for Dam. Unhurried and unbothered.
Girl didn't need to see the Overseer to know which one was coming.
His shoes were enough.
Overseer Glock came to a stop when he reached the Fallen Girl.
His feet next to her stomach.
For a moment? There was stillness.
The wind held it's breath, the Girls froze like the rare ice that the Master-Sire would drink with his strong, smelly, drink that made him mean, Girl, herself, felt her heart beat that of the rabbit Dam caught the week before he was taken.
Overseer Glock stood above the Fallen Girl. His hand reached for his canteen and he unscrewed the lid, he took a swig and then? He spat it down at the Fallen Girl.
It landed on her face and still she didn't move.
He toed his boot into the ground for lifting it –
"Arg!"
– slamming it the Fallen Girl's chest.
Girl flinched at the sound of boots made of metal and leather hitting flesh.
"Get up." The voice of Overseer Glock was low but steady. He didn't growl, he didn't change his tone was nothing but disinterest and bored, he stood still with only one of his feet nudging and kicking the Fallen Girl. "I said get up."
The Girl did nothing but rollover and then moved no more.
Overseer Glock sighed heavy and disappointed. The sound of leather moving and buttons opening and metal sliding over leather; before the unmistakable 'click' of safe being flicked off of a laspistol.
Her head was still bowed. Her hands still clutching one another. Her toes were still dug in the ground.
He gave no warning.
He gave no other orders.
Bang.
Red liquid splashed onto her feet.
"Dismissed." Overseer Glock spoke as he he reholstered his laspistol. He walked down the line of Girls before he stopped right in front of Girl. She hadn't turned away or stepped out of line yet; that was something she just didn't do when an Overseer was near by.
Dam had always told her not to turn her back on threats.
"D23, I haven't seen you in a little bit." The Overseer grabbed her chin and tilted it up. "Still set on being a Good Girl, huh?"
Overseer Glock looked like normal man. He looked one of the boys before they were chosen by one of the Four. His skin wasn't pale like Girl's and her Dam, but it wasn't dark like some of the others Girl's were, it was right in the middle. His cheeks were lean but his breath stunk. He wasn't as tall as the Master-Sire and he was always dressed in a uniform with a small black hat.
Dam said he was dressed in the mockery of a Commissar, whatever that was, or he was a traitor.
Dam never said what he could have betrayed.
But she had spat it at him when he had taken her away.
Her Dam was forced to her knees. Nose bleeding and with blood dripping out of her mouth, she glared and growled. Overseer Glock had grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head up.
"This could have gone easier." He said while a Brother of Blood came to his said. "All you had to do was come with us and not fight."
Dam had fought.
Their den was nothing more then trashed mess. The lone table was broken from when Dam threw a Sister of Blood through it. Cans of food were dent from being thrown at head. There were holes in the wall from when a Brother of Blood started to shoot. That Brother laid in a puddle of his own blood when he lost his laspistol to Dam and she put it the back of his head.
A laspistol dug into Girl's head as Dam ripped her head free of Overseer Glock's hand.
Overseer Glock sighed. "Such a Bitch. Too bad you're needed. Would have loved to toy with you." He took a step back. "Let's go." But he stayed in the doorway.
Dam was grabbed by her shoulders and dragged out. Her legs were unmoving, broken by a Brother of Blood, but she still spat at him when she was dragged past.
The Overseer kicked her in her already broken leg. "Still think your Living corpse of a husband will come to save you?" He said 'Living Corpse of a Husband' mocking, it got a few chuckles from the Brothers and Sisters of Blood that were around. He turned to Girl, the sunlight in the doorway made it hard to see, the light hitting all of his buttons and metals. "Get the Girl to the barracks." He looked her and smiled. Yellow teeth on full display, "She is the daughter of the Corpse after all."
Girl nodded.
She didn't ripped her head from his hand like her Dam had, but she went still – like a deer caught in the sites of a hunter before the shot was taken.
"It's good that you are being a Good Girl. Bad Girls are just such a mess to deal with." It was with that that he started to walk away. He looked over his shoulder though. "D23, get rid of the body."
Girl looked down at the body.
The Fallen Girl looked hungry.
Girl made sure she didn't look at the head.
She didn't look at the blood and she didn't look at the things that there floating in the blood.
She took a deep breath, grabbed the Girl's ankles, and started to pull her away.
Girl wasn't strong, Girl was small, but she did the job that Overseer Glock had given her. She dragged the Girl, leaving behind a red line everywhere she pulled her, and she pulled her the best she could. It took her the hold day, but she finally got to where the bodies were always left: The Burning Pit.
The smell that came from the Burning Pit was something. And it was a something drifted through all of the Commune.
Girl did look into the Burning Pit, but if she did, she mostly only see fire.
Girl stood on the edge of the deep pit.
She see other Girls, a few Boys, Sister and Brothers, as threws thing in the pit.
Girl took a deep, fought the urge to get sick, and pushed the Girl whose name was unknown to Girl. The name that soon will be in rotation; off the edge.
Girl stumped back as the fire got higher and higher.
All she could see was red and orange.
She – She –
She needed to – clean her clothes.
Yeah.
And find her shoes.
And maybe see Segold?
She really, really, wanted to see Segold.
--
Hey, if I need to add any warnings just tell me.
Yes, in the next chapter we will being seeing Segold and an extra character.
I'm working on rewriting this series cleaning it up and working on the world building.
Thoughts?
Also, who do you think Girl's Father is? I am open to theories.
Tagged: @beckyninja @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @sleepyfan-blog
