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Rated: · Other · Children's · #1891714
The story for young adults I have been working on. Your feedbacl would be welcomed.
Bloodlines

Chapter 1

The slap caught me off guard.

“Eyes down!”

Listening for the mumble of Bliss’s responses from behind the door I had forgotten to look at the floor. I caught at the filing cabinet, scraping fingernails to steady myself.

Standing tall I bobbed my head, “I’m sorry Sister.” It was always sensible to apologise.

She was still scowling when Bliss and Dr Hopegood came into the outer office.  Bliss had been crying…that much I knew simply from her tread. We learnt that our bodies were a hallowed vessel; but for most of us the Health Check was terrifying.

Dr Hopegood spoke brightly, “Both girls fit for the Plan Sister Morten. The Fly is the stronger candidate. There are a few anomalies in her pedigree papers. The Consultant will make the final decision regarding the Bitzer; she’s long-sighted.”

“But…what will happen to me?”

Bliss’s words hung on the air for a few seconds. I strained to think when any of us had asked a question. As if on a spring my gaze was drawn to watch Dr Hopegood.

The room was still as we waited for the storm to break. The Doctor stepped towards us her expression a mixture of surprise and disgust at the query. Thrusting her finger in Bliss’s face she said deliberately, “I will not answer to a child. It is for you to read the Sacred Texts.”  She handed the files to Sister Morten who busied herself finding our slots in the system.

Dr Hopegood glared at our bent heads for a long moment and then turned abruptly to the doorway.

“You will be accompanying them on Friday?”

The Sister nodded, “Yes Doctor.”

“Well, watch well…they might be trouble. Good day.” And without looking at us she left.

We needed to dress properly before being taken back to the Dorm and my hands shook and slipped clumsily through the buttons and strings of my undergarments. It was August, one of the steamy months. And not for the first time I found myself resenting the layers of clothing we wear.

Sister Morten was needed for the supper rounds and nagged at us to hurry.

Once downstairs and in the Dorm we were greeted with a barrage of questions from our room-mates.

“Well Nena? News?” This from Mamie, a tall Brawn with red hair and freckles.

I shrugged; I didn’t trust my voice. Bliss spoke for us.

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