As I make my way downstairs, I see my grandma waiting for me. I then go over and over in my head over what I could've done. Did I leave my charm out and she saw it? Did she find letters from my mom I'd been hiding for years? What does she know?
“I'd like to talk to you about something Charlotte.”
Oh god, I'm dead. I put on a fake smile and make my way down the last three steps. I reply, “What is it?” I hope she can't hear the fear in my voice.
“Your evaluations are coming up next week.”
My heart goes back to its normal rhythm. “Oh, yea. I forgot about that.” I lie.
That's all I've been thinking about for the past month! I'm dreading evaluations. I don't want to be picked like some grocery item. I will admit, I am decent looking, not pretty, but not ugly. Being picked out by men based on appearance, because love means nothing anymore. I don't see anything right about that.
I suddenly realize my fist have been starting to ball up and my grandma has notice.
“No need to be nervous dear. You're a beautiful young lady. You should be first pick!” My grandma says to me bright eyed.
I know she knows this isn't true. I am decent, but not a first pick. First picks are drop dead gorgeous. They usually have blonde hair that perfectly falls below their shoulders. Their eyes are a light blue that usually shimmers. Nice smile, skin complexion, and overall a nice body.
At evaluations, they have groups of ten girls and ten guys, separated between a glass wall of course. The girls undress completely and stand on one side of the glass. The glass isn't regular glass though, it's one way glass. Only the guys can see us. We are lined up alphabetically by first name, and so are the guys. The guys go down the row from a-z and the first guy, usually an Alex, Andrew, or maybe a Brad starts. All placid names. The first guy picks what girl he wants just like a kid would pick what flavor of ice cream they want. It's sickening. The girl is then called back into her changing room where she gets dressed and meets her soon to be husband. The pair then is forced to sign a document officializing their marriage.
It's sick how we are chosen like items and bred like dogs. This is how it's supposed to be according to the Scriptz.
The Scriptz holds all the guidelines for all humans to follow. It tells of us the dangers of love. How love makes you go crazy and all that crap.
There are different parts in the Scriptz. The part talking about marriage is probably one of the most read, and probably my least favorite.
Thy Female: 2:9-16
Thy female shall be chosen by male.
Thy female will sign thy document.
Thy female and male shall be wed eternally.
Thy female will have thy male’s child.
Thy female will raise thy child and not burden thy male.
Thy female’s child shall never love.
Thy female herself shall never love.
Thy female should do all that shit. What does thy male do? Thy male works and provides. Bull shit! I hate the Scriptz with all my heart.
You are supposed to care for the Scriptz. Worship that 3,857 page book of garbage.
One time, two girls were caught on the outskirts of town snuggling by a fire and tossing pages on the Skriptz into the burning flames of various shades of yellows, oranges, and reds. Policers caught them and brought them to the center of town. I was about 10 years old, so this was after my parents were killed. My grandma woke me up and brought me to the center of town with her. I wasn't sure what was going on when I saw two girls, about 17 years old, tied up to two poles and gagged in the middle of town. I wondered why it wasn't a girl and a guy.
I remember somewhat the speech the Policers gave. They said “Love can take you to an even deeper craziness. Your brain can rot so much, you love the same sex!” I began piecing together that the two women must be together. In love. I raelized that loving the same sex is just another form of love. It's still just as beautiful and as true as any other form of love.
The poles they were tied to were so close together that the two women were squeezed together. One of them got there gag out and the other followed. They said something that was too quiet for me to hear and then they kissed. One of the Policers slapped them both and then got some more rope and bonded their legs together, and then their hand around the back of the poles. Another brought in some more rope and tied that around their waist. It seems excessive looking back on it. I mean, it's not like they could get even a foot away before they would be shot.
Then they were given the choice.
“A world without love or death?”
I still remember the one girl’s words very vividly. She screamed, “Go to hell!”
The other said a bit softer, but still loud enough to hear, “I love you.”
The same Policers that tied them up were now dousing them in gasoline. Everybody knew what would come next.
The flames arose, just like the ones used to burn pages of the Skriptz. Heat swelling up and ashes spreading on the ground. The fire was put out as everybody cleared away. Walking off like brainwashed zombies, too scared to disobey.
Why are we so scared to disobey? They can't kill all of us.