The Western World

Chapter One

Sunlight flittered through the blinds, casting light into the harsh darkness of the F-Wing Dorm room. 614-F was already awake, her eyes kept open by the haunting images in her head. She watched the dust sparkle in the light and felt an overwhelming sense of depression. It was all for nothing. They sparkled and shone but it was all for nothing. They would never have a use.

614-F looked up at the digital clock on the far end of the dormitory. The red numbers flashed with an ominous glow. 5:18. Another minute had passed since she had last looked, and it would be another twelve minutes before the Orphano Instituto's siren would wail, waking up all of her inmates. 614-F did not sigh. She had been taught that sighing was a sign of insolence, but she desperately wanted to. Seconds were becoming minutes, and minutes were becoming hours.

She turned over onto her side and traced a pattern on her bed sheet. A flower. A car. A squiggle. She looked over at 613-F in the bed beside her and examined her more closely. 613-F was the kind of girl everybody liked, and although 64-F would never admit it, she did too. She was nicknamed Rose because of her rosy cheeks, even at the age of eighteen, a whole year older than 614-F. Rose's hair was laid out across her pillow, a silky wave of corn blonde. 614-F looked at her own hair. It was longer than Rose's, but nowhere near as pretty. It was a dark brown, muddy brown as some had called it, and except for the single streak of auburn, it was boring and plain. Her own cheeks were not rosy as Rose's were, but her dark olive skin, tanned even further from working outside in the summer months, was a cause for many a joke within the Instituto's walls.

614-F contemplated on the question over whether she was pretty. She supposed she was, as she had been called it often enough by some of the younger inmates, but her beauty was unusual. Too unusual for the narrow-minded inmates in her block. She looked up at the clock again. 5:27. She smiled to herself and rolled onto her back again, staring at the dust lights dancing in the air. Three minutes. Three minutes would pass quickly.

She tried to think of something to keep her mind busy. Anything to stop her from returning to her nightmare. Three minutes. She only had to keep herself occupied for three minutes. She looked over at the other inmates of her dormitory. All the 6-F's. They had given each other nicknames to cope with the dreary reality of life in the Instituto. Rose, Curly, Red, Flash, Slim, Monty, Bubbles, Happy, Jane, Titch, Sunny, Tears and Winter. 614-F was stubbornly 614-F to them though. She was the last one to join the F-Wing, and she was the youngest. Singled out and left on her own.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeah. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeah.

The siren sounded, and with it 614-F felt her tension start to ebb. The general early morning bustle of girls being awakened from their sleep was music to her ears, and for the first time in a very long time, she smiled.

Her clothes were laid out on a hanger by the bed. A simple black slip dress with a red band around the waist holding her stitched on designation. A pair of white knee socks and some black patent leather loafers. She got dressed without delay, listening with intent to the words of the girls around her.

"You should wear your hair in braids, Slim," 606-F, or Red shouted across to 609-F. 614-F rolled her eyes at Red's typical bossiness, and then chastised herself for doing so. She would be penaltied if one of the Minders saw her.

"Hey, six-one-four," Rose called, causing 614-F to leave her sock unrolled and turn to her. 'six-one-four' was what the girls called her when they were feeling friendly. Rose was obviously feeling friendly.

"What?" 614-F asked. Rose looked her up and down and smirked.

"You've got a knot in your muddy hair. You should see to that."

614-F turned back to her socks and rolled them on. She grabbed the brush from the cabinet and ran it through her hair with a harsh hand. Pain stung her scalp and tears filled her eyes, but 614-F carried on in the same vain, roughly dragging the brush through her wavy hair. She heard Rose snigger behind her and wished that a Minder could hear her, but they wouldn't. They never did.

"Stop," Rose said, her voice a soft whisper. "It'll get frizzy."

614-F obediently stopped. She slipped on her shoes and slipped into the queue that was forming in front of the F-Wing dorm's locked door. She was behind Titch who kept coughing from a sore throat.

"Shut up 614-F!" Red shouted from the front. Titch turned to 614-F and smiled. It was not a nice smile. She coughed again. The room fell silent.

614-F closed her eyes and opened them slowly. She could see red at the front looking at her with a cold glint in her eyes. She was going to pay for that. She was going to pay for something she didn't do. Again.

The door opened after what felt like an age in silence. The sound of the rest of the Instituto soothed 614-F like nothing else could. She almost felt free when she heard the uniformed chaos of the hundreds of girls and boys in the same situation as her. She followed her group out into the corridor and up until they reached the Main Hall. Many people had already started eating breakfast. The sound of chatter was loud but controlled.

"Barcode," the Minder barked as 614-F reached the front. She looked up and held out her arm wordlessly. The Minder rolled a black machine over her arm and it beeped mechanically. The Minder nodded and 614-F walked to the breakfast queue.

"Naira! Naira!"

614-F turned to the sound of a young voice and saw 1008-J, a young inmate with curly black hair and skin as dark as her own. She was walking towards 614-F now, ignoring the steely glare of Red and the rest of the 6-F's. 614-F glanced at them nervously before smiling and kneeling down as 1008-J reached her.

"Hi sunshine," 614-F greeted. 'Sunshine' grinned broadly and put her arms around 614-F's neck in a warm embrace. 614-F tried to ignore the whisper of the 6-F's and hugged Sunshine back.

"It's my birthday today. I'm seven!" Sunshine said. "How old are you Naira?"

614-F silently begged Sunshine not to call her that again. Red had slapped her because of it last time, and 614-F had carried the sting around for a day afterwards. "I'm seventeen."

"Seventeen?" Sunshine asked in wonder. "That's ten years older than me!"

"Uh huh," 614-F replied. "Have you had your breakfast?"

"Yep."

"Well then, you should get to class Sunshine, because you'll get in trouble if you don't."

Sunshine pulled a face. "They said that you used to skip classes. I want to skip them too."

614-F looked around and almost burst with relief upon finding that there were no minders nearby. "Don't say that!" she scolded. "Don't ever say that out loud. Skipping classes is wrong."

Sunshine looked like she had been smacked. 614-F had never raised her voice before. "But… but you used to do it. I want to be like you Naira."

614-F closed her eyes and counted to three. She was sorry that she had snapped, but she was scared that Sunshine would end up like her. No-one deserved to go through what 614-F had gone through, not even 614-F herself.

"Hey kid,"

614-F and Sunshine looked up at the same time to see Red looking down at them. Her dark ginger hair was cut into a severe crop that made her athletic frame all the more menacing.

Sunshine quickly looked away and back at 614-F. "Naira, why are you scared of her?"

614-F's eyes widened in surprise. How was it that Sunshine could read her mind so easily? "I- I'm not," she replied quickly. Red kneeled down and put a hand on Sunshine's shoulder.

"Hey Kid, I'm talking to you. It's not nice to ignore someone when they're talking to you," she said. Sunshine looked at Red defiantly.

"And it's not nice to be horrible," she said. Her voice wasn't fully developed and she had a lisp, but her words were effective.

Red looked like she wanted to slap Sunshine, but there was too many Minders about.

"Sunshine!" 614-F whispered.

"Why do you call her Naira, huh?" Red asked. "Her name's 614-F. Why don't you learn that?"

"Her name's Naira!" Sunshine yelled defiantly. "Her name's Naira because she's a rebel, just like Naira Constanze…"

Red laughed, long and loud. "You're comparing 614-F to Naira Constanze? She's not Naira kid. She's nothing."

"No she's not!" Sunshine shouted again.

"Sunshine!" 614-F whispered again. She saw a Minder head over towards them and straightened up, just as Red did.

"Designation?" The minder barked, looking 614-F straight in the eyes. She obviously recognised her.

"614-F," she replied, standing up straight and looking straight ahead. Red was right, she wasn't a rebel. Not any more.

"606-F," Red answered in the same way.

"1008-J" Sunshine finally answered, looking like she was about to cry.

"1008-J, you should be in class. 606-F and 614-F, you should be at work. Go."

"Yes Miss," Sunshine said, and with one last wistful look at 614-F, she set off.

"Permission to have breakfast first Miss," Red asked. The Minder looked at Red, and then at 614-F. She shook her head.

"Request denied. Go to the workstation and find your work assignment quick smart."

"Yes Miss," 614-F and Red answered at once.

The Minder walked away, still eyeing 614-F with distaste. Red and 614-F walked side-by-side to the workstation. Red waited until the Minder was out of site and then grabbed 614-F's arm tight, digging her nails in. 614-F let out a start of pain.

"That's your fault," Red said, "you've brainwashed that girl, and you're not going to get away with it. I'm going to make you pay for it if…"

Red was cut off as another Minder headed for them. This one was a man. He looked unfamiliar and neither 614-F nor Red recognised him.

"Designation?" he asked. Red and 614-F gave it to him. "Is everything okay here?" He asked. They both answered in the affirmative, but 614-F's eyes were screaming that it wasn't. Finally, after looking them both up and down he asked for their barcode.

The workstation was bustling with activity, even more so that the Main Hall had been. The walls were a dank and dark concrete, and the feel to the place was atmospheric. 614-F walked away from red as soon as the crowd would let it and fought her way to the queue for the Work Assignation.

The Minder that served 614-F when she reached the front of the queue was quick and to the point. He did not flinch at 614-F's designation as most minders did, and he didn't treat her as if she was toxic.

"614-F work assignment. You assignment is to assist students of The Academy in a clean-up mission. The shuttle to The Academy will arrive at 6:05. Barcode please."

614-F handed out her hand and the Minder used the black roller to confirm the barcode. He then pressed the roller onto a piece of printed card and handed it to 614-F. She placed it in her top pocket and headed out of the Workstation.

The shuttle Port from the Orphano Instituto was at the very top of the building. She walked towards it along with a swarm of others who probably had the same assignment. She wondered briefly what the cleanup mission would entail, and pictured her last assignment that had been termed a 'clean-up'. It was a terrorist attack on the main shuttle shaft, and 614-F and others from both the Instituto and The Academy had to shift the debris.

The shuttle was already at the shuttle port when 614-F got there. The wide door was admitting people in and a black podium with a flat top was hanging off the wall for people to validate their barcodes. The shuttle itself was in poor condition, the paint was chipped on the outside, and one of the windows was covered over with woodchip. The track below the shuttle was as good as new, but that was to be expected when many of the inmates' work assignments involved the shuttle tracks in some way.

614-F got in line, and she placed her arm over the barcode podium. It bleeped and she walked on, finding a seat at the back. It was just as neglected inside the shuttle as it was outside. The seat she sat on was ripped and dirty.

614-F turned her arm so that her barcode was facing up and looked at it. 212 3114 576 9. That was her position in the world. All she was, all that she could be, was a number. Even in the Instituto she was known only as 614-F, except to Sunshine. 614-F allowed herself a small smile at the thought of Sunshine's nickname for her. Naira. The rebel of the Western World. Naira Constanze had been a prominent figure in opposing the establishment of one superpower in the Western World. Now she was a character in a children's book about how good the establishment of the Western World was. She was portrayed as a 'baddie', but Sunshine had seen through the propaganda, even at the tender age of six. She had named 614-F Naira because 614-F was a rebel. Or she had been at least, before the Minders ruined her spirit.