Citizen

Chapter ten

The air was full of shouts and laughter as people weaved their way through the city centre. The city market was a week-long affair, a chance for the graduating citizens to relax - if only for a few days - before beginning their new lives. It was the one time a year the citizens were encouraged to show off their talents. Kyra had always wanted to type up her books and bind them in leather, how they did in the old world, but most of her pieces were written so she could let out her emotions, and weren't ready to be edited - much less ready for public consumption.

Each booth bombarded the senses with different colours and smells; from cinnamon to paint to wood to coffee. Children darted amongst the stalls, slipping through the smallest of gaps. Kyra envied them - they were young, happy, and free of burdens. The complete opposite of her. She'd woken up that morning with a tight knot in her stomach, and the weight of a citizen's free will on her shoulders.

What would controlling someone feel like? she wondered.

"See, this isn't so bad!"

Kyra jumped at the close proximity of the voice, the coffee cup warming her hands fumbling in her fingers. Clutching it to her chest, she turned away from the paint samples she had been examining and looked into the familiar grey eyes behind her.

"No, you're right mum. It's actually quite nice." Aside from the fact that every time someone's shoulder brushed hers she jumped.

Kyra contorted her lips into an awkward, toothless smile, the closest she could get to actual happiness. Kyra walked over to the next booth. It was stacked to the old tin roof with books; their cracked covers and yellowed pages gave away their age. "Did you really have to wake me up this early though?"

Getting up had not been a part of Kyra's plan. All she'd wanted to do was hide under the covers and pretend that everything was normal. It was better than thinking about the job she would be starting soon.

"You stayed in your room for a week. It was either now or never, sweetheart." Faye placed a hand on Kyra's back and steered her towards the next stall, something her daughter was grateful for; her love for books could have her stuck at that stall all day. "And I assumed you would be more likely to talk about your results here than at home in the silence."

"That's why we're here? So that you can bombard me with questions?" Kyra set her mug down with so much force that the whole stall wobbled. She shot the owner a glance and murmured, "Sorry, sir."

Faye passed Kyra her cup. "Partly. I just want to make sure you're okay. The Controllers... they're a handful. I've only met one of them, and even on his own he was intimidating."

"Even to someone like you?"

"Most especially to someone like me. I may be able to hold spiders and stitch up open wounds, but I'm no match for the Controllers."

Kyra laughed despite herself and rocked back on her heels, unsure of what emotion she felt. She wished her mother could stick to one personality; it would make being mad at her a whole lot easier if she knew which side she was talking to. "What was the other reason you brought me here?"

Faye smiled as she dug her hands deep into her pockets, rocking back and forth on her heels. "Asking takes all of the fun out of it."

Kyra raised a brow. "You know I don't like surprises, can you please just-"

"Kyra?"

Kyra span around and smacked into a hard wall of warmth.  James latched onto her arm before she could stumble.

"Sorry," she murmured, looking up at him through her lashes. She stepped backwards, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. It was strange to think that only a week ago she had felt comfortable in his presence. But now her palms were shaking, her skin was covered in a light layer of sweat, and she over-analysed everything, from the way she held herself to the ponytail she'd thrown her hair into that morning. It wasn't a nice feeling, or a welcome one.