Casted

Chapter 5

"Ms. Clemons?"

Thump, thump, thump.

"Ms. Clemons, are you awake?"

I sat up suddenly in bed, making my head spin and my vision go blurry. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and yawned. "What?" I called.

"Just making sure you're up and ready, miss," the voice answered. It was the petite voice of a woman.

Ready for what? For a moment I forgot where I was, or what I was doing there. I was waking up at home, like I always did, on my hard, bare mattress with hypothermia and bed sores. Only I wasn't cold like I should be, and my body didn't ache with every move I made. And that wasn't Michael's voice on the other side of that door.

I rested my head on my palm as it all came rushing back- the bus ride, the rooms, the shower, everything. Today was the first day of training. I pulled back the plush gold comforter and reluctantly forced myself to my feet.

There was a new outfit lain out on top of a polished wood dresser on the other side of the room. It was a pair of black pants- tight but stretchy- that covered everything but my feet, a dark blue tee-shirt made from glossy material, a pair of white socks, and silver and blue tennis shoes. I held the shirt in my hands, running my fingers over the shiny gray lettering on the back. "Harper," I read slowly. I'd never had anything with my name on it, never owned something that was so definitely mine. I smiled to myself. It felt good.

As I pulled off my dirty clothes and slipped into the new ones- which were still warm- I found myself wondering how someone had come into the room and laid out the clothes while I was sleeping. There were no locks on the door, so anyone could come and go as they pleased, but surely I would have woken up if a person had walked in in the middle of the night. The thought haunted me, but there was really nothing I could do about it. I was a guest here, after all.

As I pulled the tennis shoes on over my socks, I realized that I had no idea how to tie shoelaces. I tried a few different ways, but ended up knotting them three times over and tucking the extra string into the shoes. They really thought people like us would know how to do all of this- to read, and tie laces, and eat with forks and knives? Half of us have never even used a shower. I sighed. They have no idea what our lives are like.

There was a small black band on the dresser as well, about as big around as my wrist. I picked it up, curious, and stretched the elastic back and forth. "A hair tie," I realized out loud. At home, I would soak strips of animal hide in the thick liquid from the brain and then knot the ends together to make a loop. It wasn't very stretchy when it dried and they would break easily, but they kept my hair out of my face and sometimes I could trade with them in the market. This rubber one would be much more valuable.

I tied my hair up and glanced in the ovular mirror that sat on the dresser, wondering what use it was to look at your own reflection. There was a half-shattered mirror in my house back in Class 5, but I never looked at it because why would I? No one cared what I looked like. Did people in Class 1 care?

I noticed as I was heading towards the door that the empty plate from last night's meal had been replaced by a new bowl full of steaming oatmeal topped with blueberries. Next to it was a glass of pure white milk and a smaller plate with two slices of toasted bread on it. Looking at it made me feel sick- my stomach was still full from dinner. I left it there, hoping someone would come pick it up so I didn't have to see it anymore.

There was no one in the corridor, and no sound from the other rooms. Maybe I dawdled too much, I thought. I didn't even know where to go for training, didn't know if I'd been left behind or if I was too early.