Citizen

Chapter one

Twenty-four hours: that was all Kyra had to prepare for the biggest test of her life.

The city was bustling under a layer of dark clouds, leaves from the few trees scattered by the warm fall winds. She adjusted her backpack as she moved through the crowded street, trembling with each shoulder that brushed her own. Her throat was constricted, making it difficult to swallow the constant flood of saliva in her mouth. How was she supposed to stay calm when her whole world would change in a few hours? Where she would live, her job, her partner in life – all of it would be decided by people behind a computer screen. A sharp pang in her wrist pulled her back to reality. 

Stop injuring yourself, Citizen.

Kyra glanced down at the bracelet on her wrist. She hadn't even realised she was spinning it. Despite its large size, the bracelet was feather light - but it still wasn't supposed to spin. In her anxious state she had managed it. Whatever made it stay on – needles, she suspected, though she'd always been too afraid to ask – was digging into her wrist. Blood trickled down her tawny skin, pooling between her clenched fingers.

"You really shouldn't do that."

She looked up, expecting to see a cruel, emotionless face. Enforcers, or so she'd heard, had their emotions sapped out of them. As soon as they put on their uniforms they were lifeless shells, incapable of remorse, grief or any emotion, really. They no longer had a partner, children, or a life - they would kill their own family if they broke the law. Ever since her father died in the line of duty, that was how she saw them.

But no, instead it was a slim, tall boy, with a face full of angles and shadows, which was one of the main reasons she loved to write about him. As she watched, he ran a hand through his mop of golden hair, moving it so it no longer covered his blue eyes. Kyra smiled and moved her bracelet back in place, holding back a grimace.

"It tears at your skin." James held up his own wrist and pointed to the pale scars underneath his bracelet that were slowly fading. Unlike Kyra's, his were made from years of zaps and punishments. She knew they were well deserved though; their bracelets were designed to make them good citizens. If they received a zap, it was because they were doing something wrong.

Heels clacked against the pavement in a constant drumbeat, drowning out Kyra's thoughts. People turned to stare at the pair as they walked. In their school uniforms, it was easy to tell them apart from the adult workers. It didn't help that they were the only students around. They were rarely this late to school, especially on such an important day. It was one of the few parts of James that Kyra didn't like; he followed his own timetable, not the one their society gave him. But still, she waited for him every day. That's what they did.

Walk faster, Citizen.

She looked down at her shoes. They turned in slightly as she walked, causing her to trip frequently. She had always been told to turn her toes out, but neither her bracelet nor her mother had made the habit stick.

Correct your posture, Citizen. 

The clouds above were grey, ominous and threatening, ready to pour down at any second. The street lamps had been left on, even though it was late into the morning, in case a storm did hit. Kyra glanced up at James. He was frowning, a bad sign; James almost always had a grin on his face.

"Are you alright?" Kyra asked.

"Shouldn't I be asking you?" James nudged Kyra playfully in the side, but his voice was serious. He knew all too well what stress did to her. "Are you okay?"

That question had been haunting Kyra for weeks. Her nerves were bad enough on their own, but every time she looked down, or appeared the slightest bit upset, someone would ask if she was okay. No matter how many times she told herself she was, her mind went back to the word 'okay', twisting it and changing it into something she no longer recognised. It was a curse.