I could feel the walls closing in. I was haunted by thoughts of the inevitability of joining the Commission of the People. My life would no longer be my own. I was sure the Commish Kids were always watching me, judging if I was worth becoming part of their elite circle. Horrible nightmares caused me to wake up panicked and sweaty, unable to discern the nightmares from reality.
Clark scanned me Fridays at Archangel with a look of sympathy. I tried to talk to him again, but I was never able to stop him from disappearing into the dancing crowd. He was too evasive. Even the gossip changed, discussing rumors that I was going to become a Commish Kid, even though I was so new to Central.
Being the subject of such gossip made me panic. As far as I was concerned, the gossip was my proof that my family was in the Commission of the People. There was no escape.
It was Wednesday when we heard the news.
I was sitting at the kitchen table cutting apples for a pie with my mother when my father returned home earlier than usual.
“Karen? Lily?”
“We’re in the kitchen, honey!” my mom called.
My father darted into the kitchen, throwing his briefcase down and running to my mother, scooping her up to spin her around the kitchen with a beaming grin.
“This is it!” he boomed.
“What are you talking about?” she giggled.
“We got in!”
“What are you talking about? Thomas, you’re—”
“Read this,” he gasped, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded letter. My stomach was in knots. This was it.
We were in the Commission of the People.
I felt the urge to cry or scream or run away, but barely managed to stay in my seat. My mother slowly unfolded the piece of paper and her eyes darted back and forth across the page.
“Oh my God, Thomas!” she gasped, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. “This is incredible!”
My father kissed my mother back and then passed the letter to me.
“We’ve made it into the Commission of the People!”
I forced a wobbly smile and took the letter, my father wrapping his arms around my shoulders and kissing me on the cheek. My mother quickly began talking about who we were going to meet and the honor that came with being a part of the Commission of the People.
I looked over the letter.
Mr. Thomas Gregory Sandover,
Due to your recent achievements on the NMW Region Seventh Route Expansion, we wish to extend an invitation for you to join the Commission of the People, a branch of Central under the leadership of Mr. Dana Christenson.
Mr. Christenson personally invites you to attend a ceremony that will be held during the next meeting of the Commission of the People on Saturday, September 7th, at 10:00 p.m. in honor of your appointment. During this ceremony, you and your family will be informed of rules and regulations within the Commission of the People, as well as receive a personal welcoming gift from Mr. Christenson.
We must remind you that the Commission of the People requires that you remain silent about your appointment to those outside your family until you have been inducted. Your names will then be announced on the new members list. This order of silence is in effect until the date of Sunday, September 8th.
The meetings for the Commission of the People starts precisely at 10:00 p.m. every Saturday evening. For your first trip to the Commission of the People headquarters a driver will bring you and your family to the meeting on September 7th. After this meeting you are expected to bring yourself and your family on time to every consecutive meeting.
Congratulations. We look forward to working with you.
Sincerely,
Danielle Markus
Advisor of the Commission of the People
“What do you think, Lily?” my dad gasped, leaning over my shoulder to look at the letter proudly. I could see the excitement in his eyes, so I smiled, forcing away the suspicious fears in my gut.
“I’m so happy for you, Dad.”
“Be happy for all of us!” He beamed, hugging me tightly. “It’s going to be great, Lily.”
* *** *
“Little Lily…”
The voice was calling me again.
I felt fear rocket through my body as the words tickled along my spine. My eyes opened, finding myself lying in the grass of our backyard. I lifted my head, frightened and confused. Everything seemed darker, shadows were thicker, and somewhere within the darkness, someone was watching me. I stood to look around, hearing noises and quiet whispers.
“You’re going to get eaten alive…” a quiet voice hissed behind me.
“You’re going to get eaten alive…” another voice laughed to my left.
“You’re going to get eaten alive…”
“You’re going to get eaten alive…”
I tried to determine the sources of the various noises, but I saw no one in the shadows. I backed away, turning to my house, which was dark and just as cold as the surrounding shadows.
The voices got louder, laughing as they repeated their ominous message. My heart was pounding, panic swelling into a hot ball in my throat.
Even though my house was frightening and obviously not safe, I ran to the darkened glass door and tried to force it open. The sliding door would not budge.
I looked up and caught sight of my own wide-eyed, frightened reflection. Behind me, a tall, menacing, shadowed figure loomed.
I screamed, running, using the darkened windows as mirrors to tell if the figure was following. In every window I saw the figure standing silently behind me. I could not escape him no matter how fast I ran. He was always waiting for me in the next reflection.
I stopped running and turned, attempting another direction, but I tripped over my own feet and fell heavily to the ground, the dirt biting into my knees and elbows.
I saw the dark shadow approach. He glided closer and closer, menacing and cold. I screamed again and turned on my hands and knees to crawl away, but the shadow moved in front of me. I stared at it, breathing hard, terror coursing through me.
The shadow leaned over me, encompassing me in its arms as the voices started again.
“You’re going to get eaten alive…”
“You’re going to get eaten alive.”
“You’re going to get eaten alive.”
“You’re going to get eaten alive!”
The shadow surrounded me as I curled in fear. I was trapped. I was never getting out.
“I am going to eat you alive,” a dark voice whispered in my ear.
I screamed.
I sat up abruptly, panting, looking wildly around my bedroom. I had fallen out of bed, my knees and elbows stinging. I swallowed hard, trying to moisten my throat and calm my breathing.
Cringing at the pain in my knees, I moved clumsily to my bathroom.
I hissed when I turned on the light, waiting for my eyes to adjust.
I splashed my face with water, my heart still knocking against my ribs.
There was no way that dream had not been about my family joining the Commission of the People. The warnings I had received about the Commission haunted me.
I wet a washcloth to press to my knees.
I was angry. I wanted nothing to do with our government or the Commission. I didn’t want to think about how secretive I would become, or that I would be unable to hang out with my new friends at Archangel just because my father had received a ‘promotion.’
I was exceptionally angry and extremely frightened.
After I had regained control of my breathing, I returned to my bedroom. When I turned off the light and was plunged into darkness, I scurried back to bed, clamoring under the covers before scanning my room, just to be sure the shadowy figure was no longer looming over me.
* *** *
I knew I was acting out of the ordinary on Thursday because my group of friends continued to ask if I was alright. I lied. I was sworn to secrecy.
I was upset and depressed. I had care
fully avoided the concerned questions from my friends, but I was worried I would be unable to keep up the act two days in a row.
When Friday came, I spent the day sick to my stomach. It was my last day before I would become part of the famous—infamous—Commission of the People.
Everything about the invitation into the Commission felt wrong. The fact that we had to stay silent and were meeting so late at night made me curious. I was asking the obvious question: why?
Becca grabbed my attention during lunch while Taylor and Jill discussed something that had happened during Taylor’s last class.
“Hey,” Becca said, nudging me, “are you feeling okay? You’ve been acting kind of strange.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
“You’re not very good at lying, Lily.” Becca smiled. “C’mon, you can tell me if something’s bugging you.”
I wanted to spill my guts and tell her about my family’s invitation into the Commission of the People. I wanted to tell her how much I hated the idea of being trapped in the government for the rest of my life. I wanted to tell her I was thinking about running away. I felt as though I was drowning.
But I bit my tongue.
“I just have a lot of things on my mind,” I said, smiling weakly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Becca assured. “But if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
“Thanks, Becca,” I grinned, biting back tears.
As had happened the previous week, I got ready for Archangel on my own and was picked up by Jill’s father. I had made myself up slowly, constantly staring into the mirror absent-mindedly. I was losing myself deeper and deeper inside my dark thoughts. I was becoming the mask I had put on for the past two days.
At Club Archangel I tried to take in the noises and lights as if I was seeing the club for the first time. From Saturday on, I would be a Commish Kid. I would be on the balcony, overseeing the club like royalty, keeping my distance.
The group moved to an empty table and I sighed heavily, for the first time wishing I was old enough to drink alcohol legally, wanting to numb my thoughts.
The songs were heavy in bass and intoxicating. But even as I tried to lose my thoughts in the beat of the music, I remembered that I would see Clark that night. I began anxiously throwing glances at the door.
“What’s with you?” Becca laughed. “The last time you were this nervous at Archangel you had never been here before.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“Then, why do you keep looking at the door?” Taylor smiled. “You waitin’ for someone?”
“Devon?” Becca teased.
“Oh, um…well…” I looked at Jill and flinched from her cold glare. I quickly looked back at Becca, who was also watching Jill. Her expression had changed again. She looked surprised and hurt over Jill’s jealousy. Before I could question it, the boys startled me by coming to the table. I jumped out of my seat when Todd stretched across the table in greeting. Everyone stared at me, confused by my over-the-top reaction.
“Are you alright, Lily?” Todd asked.
“Yeah…you just scared me, that’s all.”
I saw Clark standing behind Devon. He looked at me, his eyes apologetic.
“You look like you need to loosen up a little,” Devon noted. “Dance with me?”
“Um…in-in a minute.” I locked gazes with Clark, trying to communicate that I needed to speak with him. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, I saw the change in him. It was the same look he had adapted when we were being watched three weeks previous by the other Commish Kids.
“Actually, Devon, I’d like to dance with Lily,” he said, his voice just barely shaking.
I looked around the table. They came to the same conclusion at the same time.
My family’s induction into the Commission of the People was no longer a secret.
“You have got to be kidding me…” Taylor hissed.
“No way…you just got here!” Todd gasped.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Becca whispered.
“I can’t say anything, I’m sorry!” I burst quietly, feeling the tears coming too quickly.
“Lily,” Clark said, his voice lined with authority, “come with me.” His hand was locked around my arm, pulling me into the thick of the crowd, away from my startled friends. I felt that I would never see them again as soon as I was engulfed by the dancing students.
“Clark, no, wait,” I hissed, trying to pull away.
“You will see them again,” he assured. “But I need to get you away before you say anything you’re not supposed to.”
I yanked my arm out of his grasp.
“How could I know anything?!” I snapped. “I’m not even in yet!”
“Will you keep your goddamn voice down?!” he hissed, glaring. We were in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by dancing students as the beat pulsed through the club like a heartbeat. Clark took a deep breath. “Look, I know this is a shock, and I know that you don’t want to be part of this. But, the fact is, you are…and there is nothing you can do about it. That means you have to abide by the rules, or you’re going to find yourself somewhere you really don’t want to be.”
“Clark, I want out of this…” I whimpered, surprised by the weakness of my voice. “Please, tell me how to get out of this…”
“There’s no way out,” Clark choked. “If there was, I would have found it already.” He looked up at the balcony quickly and then turned to me. “Don’t you dare tell any of the others in the Commission that I want out,” he whispered so quietly I had to strain to hear him. “And don’t let anyone know that you want out, either.”
I felt myself starting to cry. The authoritative look disappeared from Clark’s eyes, his expression softening.
“I just…I want…”
“Lily,” he started, “please, listen to me. I have been instructed to tell you about your protocol from here on, as far as Club Archangel is concerned.”
“My protocol?” I echoed.
“If you want to travel with the others and spend some time with them at the beginning of the night, that’s fine,” he assured. “As long as you don’t let anything slip about what has been going on in the Commission. After you have said hello, you are to go up to the balcony. We take turns coming down and scanning the room for anything that would be of interest for the Commission.”
“You mean…I can’t spend more than the first few minutes with my friends?”
“No,” he said reluctantly. “And, if you insist on staying down here, another child of the Commission must be with you.”
“Why is this so secretive?” I hissed. “What exactly is it about the Commission that no one is supposed to know?”
Clark glanced at the balcony again. I looked up as well and saw one Commish Kid there, but he was on the far side, looking over another section of the club.
“I can’t say anything here,” Clark said. “Besides, tomorrow night you will understand.” He sighed. “Listen, I know that Mr. Christenson has taken a very special interest in your family and that frightens me.”
“What do you mean? Why does that frighten you?”
“Because anything that Mr. Christenson is this fascinated with…generally, the outcome is not good…”
“What the hell are you saying? I mean—”
“Mr. Christenson has ordered me to be your protector at Archangel,” Clark said quickly. “That’s how I know he’s interested.”
“Ordered? My protector? What the hell are you talking about?!”
“He likes you…or your family, I don’t really know,” Clark said, his tone desperate. “Please, you need to listen to me very carefully.” I nodded, though I was so lightheaded and confused, I wasn’t sure I could pay close enough attention. “The Commission is full of old, warped, and perverted men and cruel women who think that they are more than human. This is a fucked up world you’re about to step into. And you’re going to need help adjusting.”
“I thought…I thought the Commission was…”
“Everything you thought the Commission was is somewhat-true…but it is not clean, and it most certainly is not pretty,” Clark said. “This is why you need to stay absolutely silent about everything you hear and see in the Commission starting tomorrow.”
“Clark, you’re scaring me…” I breathed, tears rising to my eyes again.
Clark closed his eyes. “I wish I could help you. I really do…” He lowered his head and I saw that his eyes were also welling with tears. “…but I can’t…”
He turned back to the balcony. This time, there were several Commish Kids at the railing, at least seven, and they were all looking at us, whispering.
“We need to get up there,” Clark breathed.
“No! Clark!” I snapped. “Please…I just want one last night with them…I need that…”
Clark looked between me and the Commish Kids on the balcony, their eyes sharing a silent conversation over the crowded and loud dance floor.
I saw one of the Commish Kids, a girl who was extremely pretty, shake her head and motion her hand for us to join them. My stomach fell. I thought I was about to pass out, consumed with terror and trapped.
“Come on,” Clark said, grabbing my elbow again. “I’ll talk to them.”
“Are you in charge, or something? I mean, with your mom being advisor to Dana Christenson?”
“Damn it, Lily, you really need to learn how to keep your voice down,” he growled through his teeth. I bit my lip, feeling the tears burn my eyes. He weaved us through the dancing sea of bodies and to the stairs of the balcony. “I have a little more respect, but Mr. Christenson has three advisors and one of them has a seventeen-year-old and a sixteen-year-old daughter. If they want to meet you, I should introduce you.”
I tried to spot the girl who had motioned us to the balcony as we approached the stairs, but Clark was pulling me so insistently, I had to look ahead to keep myself from falling down or crashing into something, particularly since I was wearing shoes I could barely walk in.
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