Broken Doll

Chapter Three

Never before had I experienced a more unusual day of school than the one I had experienced today.

The curriculum is organized so that everything that needs to be taught falls perfectly within the course of one school year; this curriculum was made by President Dochary himself, to establish a more stable education system. This means that nothing should disrupt such a system unless it is extremely important.

Apparently a security breach of Docharia is one of those few important things.

In mathematics, we discussed potential codes and formulas that the breachers would have had to use in order to crack the system instead of learning numeral integration.

In reading, we talked about the different top secret government books that the perpetrators could have gotten ahold of instead of having a book discussion on the ancient novel A Tale of Two Cities.

In writing, we wrote thesis statements on how we think the breach occurred despite the high security posts surrounding government offices instead of learning proper written letter format.

In science, we talked about physical evidence left at crime scenes. This was actually on topic; the only difference was all of our examples surrounded the breach.

Even Training, which is supposed to be focused on nothing other than career skills, was geared more towards the infiltration of Docharia.

All of that was strange, of course, but perhaps the strangest thing that happened in school was the actual cancellation of one of my core Lessons: Recorded Records history.

My classmates and I all shared the same thoughts when we looked at the note posted on the door:

No class today

Those three words threw off our equillibrium. Our whole world tilted off of its axis. Nothing made sense in that very moment all because...

Class was cancelled.

I'm not even completely sure that's legal. In Docharia, education is so fragile and precious that the slightest gust of wind that blows it off of its course might as well be the devil.

A usually quiet girl in my class, Elizabeth, screamed at the disruption.

"What do we do now?" she screeched.

No one knew the answer. The door to the classroom was locked, so we couldn't sit down and leaf through our textbooks, as one student suggested.

We just ended up wondering the halls until the dismissal bell rang, lost in our realm of confusion and dismay.

After school, my mind was swimming with the thoughts that could get me killed were I to speak them aloud.

Everyone hinted towards the same idea; if the Docharian government buildings are as secure as everyone makes them out to be, how could they so easily be broken into? If the online networks contain as many security locks and codes and complex formulas as they government claims they do, how could they so easily be hacked? No one would dare suggest that our supreme rulers were hiding something important from us, the citizens, the ones who are supposedly the foundation of our whole society.

No one would dare suggest that the government is corrupt.

As my mind resounded with all of my forbidden thoughts, I started walking in a direction that steered away from my home.

Trees were only a thing of my dreams, but there were sporadic areas of painted steel poles, supposed to add a splash of color to the surroundings of white houses, green yards, and red vehicles. People could walk on the paths between the poles during the day to relax and clear their minds while taking in the array of vivid color.

Hoping to distract myself from these thoughts, I stepped onto the path and studied the multitude of oranges and pinks and blues and purples that rose up around me.

As I was walking, I caught something out of the corner of my eye that disrupted the rainbow of color around me.

A gray, dismal building, once concealed by poles that must have been recently removed, stood looming in the distance. This sight shocked me, as all buildings in Docharia were supposed to be white, with the exception of yellow government buildings, though those are only to be found in the Private Sector.

I was frightened yet very intrigued by the sight before me, and without knowing, my feet carried me to the mysterious, abandoned Place.

When I approached it, I reached my hand out and carefully caressed the gray exterior. Steel. Cool to the touch but weathered away by years of sitting exposed, uncared for.

It was clearly a pre-Dome structure. Signs of damage due to weather (a thing not heard of inside the Dome; we can see it, but are not affected by it. Rain, snow, sleet, and hail have no impact on our maintained temperature of 76.8 degrees year-round) were prominent on the outside walls.

I stepped around the corner of the building and saw something that made me gasp inwardly: Two glass doors bound by a chain and padlock.

Again, without conscious effort, I approached the glass doors. I rested my fingers upon the padlock, but due to the corroded metal, it fell away and landed on the stone ground beneath my feet.

Everything that I was ever taught about right and wrong, about sneaking around in places I know I have no right to be in, screamed at me to stop. Screamed at me to turn around and run home as fast as my legs could carry me.

My mind screamed no but my curiosity screamed yes.

I unraveled the chain from the handles of the doors and pulled them open.

That's the thing about humans; we are driven by a curiosity capable of overpowering our morals.

Humans are deprived of that right now, not allowed to ask questions or wonder about the things in front of them.

Only those lucky enough to work in government have the right to ask questions.

Only those lucky enough to be considered outcasts do it anyway.

As I stepped into the old building, the voices in my head were killed by the voices of my curiosity.

I stepped outside one last time. I scanned the poles and I looked up at the sky to check for government officials. The colors stood silent. A dark blue streak of electric current passed over the lighter blue of the sky above the Dome, but it was free of government Watch Planes.

I pulled the chain and padlock inside then closed the doors behind me.

Do I feel bad about sneaking around somewhere I know I have no right to be?

My curiosity says no.