*** lol, here is my first post (this is my novel ive been working on for a while, its pretty lengthy so i'll just post a tiny portion.) i might post more later too or whatever. well, anyway, please be brutally honest. this storty means a lot to me, but i must warn you- the beginning can be a little rough. lol, i swear the story smooths out later!
thanks for taking the time to read it!
oh, one more thing!!!
there is swearing in this story...is that okay? I'm sorry if it is discouraged, but i really wanted to express the reality and rawness of the situation. please,
i dont want to offend anyone! thanks for understanding, there's probably filters on this site anyway...
****
The FDC
It was cold. So cold I could see my breath. I rolled over and huddled against Louise. The blanket I had, well, I wouldn’t even call it a blanket. It was the green foam that lines the crates of oranges so that they won’t get bruised. The “blanket” wasn’t of much help. It was so dirty and matted that it barely provided a barrier against the cold surrounding us.
“Louise. Wake up.” I whispered.
“Five more minutes…”
“No. Rule #J16: Any gopher caught oversleeping past 3:32 in the morning will be terminated.”
“God, only you would have the whole fucking rule book memorized!”
“Shut up and get your lazy ass up!”
“Whatever…” she mumbled. I sighed. Louise could be so lazy at times. Suddenly the halogen lights above flickered on to make the building bright and luminous. Moans could be heard from the other gophers as the bright light burned their eyes. Even I had to blink several times to get my eyes adjusted.
“Wake up you lousy brats! It’s 3:32!” shouted The Officer. I shuddered. It was time to get up. I gave Louise a good kick and started folding up my blanket. That was all I had. I had no bed or even something to protect me from the grimy tiled floor. Just a small green spongy thing that reeked of rotten oranges. For a pillow I used a half used paper towel roll so there wasn’t much to carry. The butcheress Margaret let me use a small space behind her counter to pack it all away for Rule #W98 said: Any gopher’s belongings that are found lying out in the premises will be terminated. I refused to be exterminated.
I walked over to the butcher counter and hastily stuffed my junk under it. Margaret was never at the FDC before 5:00 so no one was there. Suddenly, I felt some one tap my shoulder. I jumped back in fear, but saw it was only Louise. She giggled, “Scared you didn’t I?” I shrugged and walked away. I knew I shouldn’t have walked away from my one and only friend in the midst of that hell-hole, but I didn’t like to show weaknesses to the others. A person couldn’t be weak in a time like that. The weak were exterminated.
I slowly stood up and stretched. The scene that surrounded me could only be described in one word. Chaos. Other teens around me were gathering up their few belongings, while The Officer and his cohorts were beating on some others who simply were not moving fast enough. I had been beaten before in my earlier days of being a gopher, but now I knew all the loopholes and scapegoats that were needed to escape punishment. I crouched back down next to Louise. She gave me a gigantic smile and began to whistle a whimsical tune she had obviously made up herself. I rolled my eyes, Louise was my best friend, but sometimes she had her head up in the clouds. We had arrived at the FDC on the same day, and have been inseparable since.
Louise was always in a good mood and looked at the positive things going on around her. You would think that after 3 years of living in a never-ending nightmare that she would be a zombie like the rest of us, but no, not Louise. She is still the light-hearted kid that arrived here.
Most of the kids that came to the FDC were runaways seeking refuge from the even crueler world on the outside. However, a few others, like myself, had been sold to the FDC in exchange for money. I try not to think about that.
I grimly trotted up to the other gophers as we started the long walk to the cleansing room. Louise, my constant shadow, walked with me until we got to the big steel doors that seemed to let out an ominous glare upon us.
The Cleansing Room
“All right, everyone, shut the fuck up!” shouted The Officer. Our constant chatter ceased abruptly, and we gave him our full attention. Cleansing only happened once a month at the FDC, and it was not The Officer’s favorite job at all. He was extremely cranky that morning, and wasn’t about to take any shit, from anyone.
“Now you listen here. We will be allowing ten in at a time. After you enter the doors you will be stripped of your clothes, then hosed down for approximately 1 minute. After the first hosing is complete you will be given two bars of soap to split amongst each other. After you have completed washing yourselves you will be hosed down again. Anyone who complicates things, will be get the shit kicked out of ‘em. Is this clear? Good. First ten in are 1009, 1034, 1098, 1023, 1078, 1088, 1033, 1022, 1076, and 1065.”
My number was 1076 so I hurried up to the front of the crowd to enter the room. The only other kid I knew coming with me was a new girl named Fiona. I gave her a reassuring smile for it was her first cleansing. Then, the doors opened, and The Officer gave the command to enter.
The first thing I always noticed about the cleansing room was the emptiness of it. It looked so hostile and sterile that it gave me shivers. Everything was white tile, even the walls and ceiling. The artificial light coming from the lamps gave off a sterile feeling. The only thing that gave you a hint of it being served for cleansing were the nozzles that sprouted out of the walls in different places that supplied the water and the drains in the floor.
Suddenly a voice came over the speaker, “Remove yourself of your clothes and prepare for first hosing.”
We quickly started to take off our tunics, but the water began blasting before I was able to get my bottoms off. I winced; the water was painful against my bare back. The water came out with such force and surprise that it knocked some of the others to the ground. Fiona was crying next to me. She tried to shield herself from the water by hiding in the corner. I crawled over by her and hugged her. Soon, I knew, she would get used to it just as I had to three years earlier.
Then, just as soon as it started, it stopped. From trap doors in the ceiling, bars of cheap flaky soap fell to the ground. Everyone lunged for it trying to get the first round, but in the process the bars broke up into little chunks. One of the chunks floated over to Fiona and me so I grabbed it.
The chunk of soap was so small that I could barely get any lather out of it. I first washed my armpits and face; I then proceeded onto my arms saving the stomach for last. After I was done I handed the soap to Fiona. She tried to do the same, but her fingers were so cold she couldn’t get a good grip on the chunk.
“Shit,” she said through choked sobs as the soap slipped from her fingers and went flying across the room.
The second hosing then started. The others shrieked and hit the floor trying to dodge the blasts while still trying to rinse themselves of the soap. Fiona started crying again and became as limp as a rag doll.
“C’mon, you need to get this soap off!” I screamed over the roar of the water. She just stared right back up at me.
The water stopped coming. Everyone stopped crying and screaming immediately. If The Officer heard we would be done for. From trap doors in the ceiling again, new clothes were dropped down to us. A voice came over the speaker again.
“Leave your old clothes on the floor and change into the new ones. Then proceed through the same doors you came in and report to your station.”
Everyone dove into the pile of clothing searching for the best. The clothes were cheap polyester that were obviously second hand, but they were clean. That was all that mattered when it really came down to it.
Fiona got, of course, ill-fitted clothes because she was a rookie. She didn’t know how to be violent and aggressive yet. She hadn’t yet become an animal, but I knew that in a few days she would become just as scrappy as I.
When I look back on this memory the fact that everyone was naked didn’t bother me in the least. The FDC treated us like animals so we became animals. My first time to the cleansing room I had tried to cover myself a bit so people wouldn’t see me. So I wouldn’t appear vulnerable to them, but over time I became accustomed to the nudity. That was probably the worst thing about the cleansing process; Knowing that you didn’t care anymore and that you were a step below humanity.
1076
I used to know a girl. Her name was Isabella Maria Rodriguez. I used to know a girl who lived with a family. A girl whose parents told her that they loved her each night. A girl who could come and go as she pleased.
But that girl is gone now. All that is left is 1076. A meaningless number that only serves one purpose: to clean bathrooms, run errands for the wealthy, and sort out the rotted apples from the good. Isabella didn’t totally disappear; she just sort of faded into a black abyss from whom no one returns. Isabella is dead. She is known as Izzy to her friends, and one thousand seventy six to her superiors. She is disposable and replaceable.
I used to know a girl.
The Station
“Hey Fee! Hey Izzy! Wait up!” Louise called to us as we walked over to Station 5. Fiona glanced back at her and halted while I kept going up until the cucumber bin.
“”Louise! Get your ass up here!” I cried to her. She catapulted into a sprint and soon caught up to us.
Her wide, goofy grin soon melted my grumpy mood. Even after cleansing Louise was all smiles. Even Fee gave her a half smile back.
“So Fee, how was your first cleansing? Wonderful, I’m sure!” said Louise sarcastically as we walked briskly to our station.
“Shut the fuck up Lou, it was hell,” Fee said with a touch of anger behind her voice.
“Chill girl, chill!”
I rolled my eyes- leave it to the new girl to be sensitive. I wasn’t a heartless bitch though, I did feel some pity for her. The first cleansing was always the hardest, but I knew that eventually she would get over it
“Girls, can you not shut up for more than two minutes? You two is worse then a bunch a’ chickens!” I said sharply over their argument.
“Whatever’ Izzy, Whatever,” Lou answered.
By that time we had reached the station. Our station was 5. It was a little hole-in the-wall placed by the eggplant bin. It was painted a sickly pea green color with an ugly, rusted sign above it that said: Station 5. Well, actually, it looked more like Sta ion 5. The “t” had fallen off 6 years ago during an uprising among the gophers. However, other then that, Station 5 was no different then any other station: A prison.
Gopher
What is a gopher? A gopher is a FDC hired adolescent who works to improve the quality of living for other working families living in Walkee and other surrounding cities by cleaning, restocking, organizing, and running errands for customers at the FDC.
That is the definition of a gopher that is told to us and everyone else by the FDC. The only part they got right was us being adolescents.
Here is our definition.
A gopher is a teenager owned by the FDC that suffers under miserable working conditions and is not allowed any freedoms or privileges. A gopher is a slave. If a gopher is caught breaking one of the many rules that oppress them then they are terminated. End of story.
Termination
Gophers live in a constant fear of termination for the rules that govern their lives are so numerous and insignificant. Any infraction of any rule, no matter how pointless it is, is dealt with harshly. So harshly, in fact, that gophers are often verbally and physically abused. I will never forget my first slap. I had never been hit in my entire life before, but on my second day of being a gopher I dropped a crate of bananas.
The Officer in charge of my station at the time slapped me three times against the face, and ordered me one month of cleaning bathrooms.
It was one my first slaps, but not my last.
My incident could have been considered a serious transgression, but luckily, The Officer had been in a good mood.
Restroom 8
Fee, Lou, and I got behind the counter of Station 5 in just in time before The Officer came to give us our assignments. We quickly put on the cheap, ugly yellow shirts that were set before us. (The bright yellow signified to others that we were gophers.)
“Attention! The following of you will be cleaning restroom 8 today: 1034, 1098, 1044, 1053, 1099, 1149 and 1076. The next group will be restocking shelves in the deli…”
My heart sank. Restroom 8 was always the worst because it was near the entrance. Luckily, Lou’s number had been called too (1053). A deputy, one of our superiors below an Officer, then came to escort us to the bathroom.
“Great, just wonderful, Restrrom 8; what a joy,” Louise muttered bitterly under her breath, “I wonder what Fee is gonna do today… she probably got stuck with a good job.”
“Yeah, probably,” I replied.
“I, like, don’t even know why you gals even give her the time a’ day, ya know? I mean, she is like so quiet and, like, new,” someone interjected behind us.
It was a voice familiar to me, but yet I wasn’t quite sure who it was. But, as always, Louise knew. Louise knew every single gopher this side of the FDC. She knew their numbers, names, family history, even probably the day they arrived.
“Shut up Risa. You don’t even know the girl,” Lou retorted.
“Screw you Lou. You know what your prob is? You is just too damn nice to every kid that comes here. You is just to damn nice.”
“Yo Risa! If you mess with Lou here, you mess with me,” I shot back. I may not be the most sentimental best friend there ever was, but there was no way in hell I let my friends get pushed around. Especially by older, bitchier girls.
After that, Risa shut up, but I could tell she was pissed. In a place like the FDC you couldn’t afford to have enemies, but Risa was my one exception. Well, actually, I had two exceptions; Risa and her ass ugly boyfriend, Gordon.
Suddenly, the deputy halted.
“Everyone shut up; we’re here. Now I want everyone to grab a brush, bucket, and some soap in orderly fashion. This cleaning session will end at 5:14 PM. Right now it is 4:37 AM. That gives you approximately 13 hours. You may begin,” He stated.
The deputy then sat down on a chair sitting near the entrance to the bathroom and began to read a dirty magazine.
I sighed and picked up a bucket, rag, and a small chunk of a bar of soap. The last time I had cleaned Restroom 8 it had been a festering pit of human waste, and I knew that it probably hadn’t changed.
“Man, Iz, this really sucks ass. I knew as soon as I got up this morning that it was gonna be an unlucky day,” Louise muttered to me as we marched in through the doors of Restroom 8, “ I just knew this day would suck.”
I grinned ruefully. She was right. That day did suck.
The Cleansing of Restroom 8
The very first thing I remember about Restroom 8 was the smell. It hit you like a ton of bricks and made you gag. The odor consisted of different arrays of urine and fecal matter, plus rotting food. When I first walked in I remember just gasping for breath. Even when I breathed in through my mouth I could smell it.
The second thing I remember is how unbelievably messy and downright dirty it was. It was beyond comprehension. It looked like that bathroom hadn’t been cleaned in years, but really, it had been only 3 days ago. It was far worse then I remembered it. Far, Far worse.
There was urine all over the floor, walls, and yes, even the ceiling. Crap was overflowing from the clogged toilets and was all over the floor. Pee soaked paper towels and toilet paper literally covered the entire floor, and the garbage bins were overflowing. Flies were crawling everywhere, laying their eggs and spreading their germs.
I would have rather peed in my clothes then gone in that bathroom.
I almost started to cry. I couldn’t believe they expected us to spend over 12 hours scouring that shit-hole. I honestly didn’t think I could do it.
Thank God Louise was there to put some humor into the situation.
“Holy Shit! I don’t ever’ remember it being this bad! Oh Sweet Jesus above, This totally sucks ass!” she said, breaking the silence.
Everyone erupted into a comforting laugh, and we started our scrubbing.
But the problem was that we didn’t know where to start. The task was so overwhelming. All I could really do to begin was to pick up the litter on the floor and then scrub the open spots. Some of my other friends came up to Lou and I started helping by the names of Naomi, Jeremy, and King. They were members of Station 5 also, and had arrived a week after us.
“Okay, Lou, you clean stall one, Jeremy-two, Naomi-three, Iz-four, and I’ll clean five,” said King, immediately taking charge as he always did.
We all nodded in consent, except for Risa.
“Oh, and what the fuck am I supposed to do?” snarled Risa.
“God, what the hell went up your ass and died today?” asked Naomi sarcastically.
“I’ll tell ya what! You assholes, that’s what!! Ya think ya can leave me out a’ everythin’, huh?” she snapped.
“Fine, whatever, Risa, you clean six,” King said simply as he began to start wiping the poop off the toilet set in his stall.
“NO! I hate ya’ll! Think ya are so cool? I’ll tell ya what’s cool! THIS!” she screamed. Risa picked up her bucket of water and poured it on her head.
It wasn’t us; Risa had just snapped.
“I hate you! I hate you all!” she kept yelling. Now she was starting to rip her clothes.
“Risa, darlin’, stop it! You’re going crazy on us, girl! Just breathe a little, you’re gonna be okay,” Jeremy said to her as he tried to pin her arms down against her body to keep from ripping all of her clothes off.
“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF ME!” she screamed.
I looked over at Louise, she had the fear of God all over her face. I probably did too, I had heard about this happening before, but never had actually seen it. Sometimes gophers, literally, went psycho.
“What the hell is going on?” The deputy had obviously heard the screams within and had decided to come in and check on us.
When he saw Jeremy pinning Risa’s hands down to her side along with her ripped, wet clothing. He assumed the worst.
“Get off of her! If anyone’s gonna be getting any around here, it’s gonna be me! So get your filthy paws off a’ her!”
I could only watch in horror as the deputy wrestled Jeremy off of Risa and pulled out a hypodermic needle from his belt.
It was all over before any of us knew it. Jeremy was terminated.
All I could hear was Risa’s and Naomi’s screams.
It all went black.
Untitled
I was at home: our modest shack on the outskirts of Walkee. The sun was shining with a bright intensity, and Mama, Papa, Miguel, Rosa, and a young girl were sitting at our large wooden table. They were all holding hands, praying. The young girl felt safe, loved, wanted.
“Bella, can you please pass the beans?” my father asked her after the prayer was done.
“Sure,” the young girl named Bella answered.
“Gracias.”
My family continued to eat with the strange girl. I stared more intently at her. Her hair was thick and long, and her face was cheerful and flushed. For a split second I envied her. I wanted to be eating with my family, and I wanted that feeling of completeness.
Then there was a knock at the door.
Mama began to wring her hands and fidget, “Papa, do you want to get that?” she asked nervously. “Miguel? Rosa? Bella? I can take your plates. Miguel and Rosa, why don’t you go out to play?”
Papa rose solemnly from his seat at the head of the table. The knocking at the door grew more urgent and loud. “Coming!” he bellowed as he trudged to the door with heavy feet.
Papa left my view. Mama and the girl Bella were the only ones left in the kitchen.
“Who do you think is at the door at this time of night? I mean, isn’t it kind of late?” Bella inquired.
“Hush gatitio , whoever it is must have good reasons.”
“Mama, why are you crying?” the girl asked in a frightened manner.
Who did this wench think she was calling my mother her “mama”? I opened my mouth to say something, but no words would come out. Then I realized what the girl had said. Mama was silently crying. Her tears were making ripples in the sink basin where she was washing the dishes.
Then my anger towards the girl turned into complete terror.
Two men dressed in FDC uniforms entered the kitchen with Papa.
“So this is the one? She’s kinda’ small for her age,” the younger looking man remarked.
“Yeah, but a few days and nights in The Cage will change all that,” the older man sneered, “Who knows? She ain’t that bad lookin’, she might even make a few ‘Officer Friends’.”
Bella tried to hide behind Mama, but she wouldn’t stop washing the dishes. Mama acted like nothing was happening, all she did was wipe and cry, wipe and cry.
The older man touched the girl roughly on the cheek and made her spin around for inspection. I could see she was terrified. I was terrified for her. I knew those two men all too well.
Why wasn’t Papa saying anything? Could this cruel, heartless man actually be my father? Hadn’t he just five minutes ago asked her to pass the beans? Why wouldn’t Mama stop washing those damn dishes! Why were they letting those evil men take her away! Why the hell wasn’t anybody stopping them from exploiting and embarrassing her like that?
Then the younger man gave Papa a wad of dolors and kones. Papa stuffed them into his pocket and nodded his consent. The two men started guiding the girl out the door.
“Stop! Wait, stop! Please, Papa, no! Don’t let them take her! Don’t let them take her!” I cried out through silent sobs. But no sound would come out, I couldn’t help Bella.
She was beginning to understand what was happening to her, the men were taking her away, away to an unknown, terrible place. She began to fight them.
“Why is it the bitches are the ones who always fight?” asked the younger man to the older as they struggled to drag the clawing girl out the door.
“I have no idea, this one’s sure putting up a good one though,”
“Please, no! Papa! Don’t let them take me! Don’t let them Papa! Do something! Papa! Mama! Please, Papa! I love you, please Papa!” she screamed.
Tears flowed from my face as the men shocked her with a stun gun and dragged her limp body out the door.
Mama continued to wash the dishes. Papa sat at the table with his face buried in his hands.
Then I understood. The unknown girl, who has just been sold away by her own parents for a few dolors and kones. The girl who later would be raped by the two men. The girl who had just lost her freedom, dignity, honor, family, and life,
was me.
