She Wore Black

by J L Park

  “Yes…” My voice shook.

  Rhythmic thumping sounded as she banged her hand on the steering wheel. “Dammit. Sorry, Reed, I’m so sorry…” She banged her hand on the steering wheel again, “We will need to get you some medication when we get back.”

  “For?”

  “To make sure you’re not pregnant.” I realised now what she meant - I was unmarried so having sex, even non-consensual sex, was punishable by death or expulsion - but only mine, not his.

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry… it's been a long day… I thought you meant for something else. Thank you for helping me.”

  “It’s okay. Reed, we’re almost at the sentry. I need you to stay quiet until I tell you it’s alright, okay?”

  “Yup.”

  I lay still, listening to the rumble of the tires over the asphalt as we got closer to the sentry point. Maria had wound down her window before approaching to receive her instructions, the noise of the guards as they shouldered their guns was clear, and I fought to breathe as shallow as possible, in case they were looking in the back window.

  “Evening Ma’am. Do you have your orders on you?” a gruff sounding voice asked.

  “Yes, sir. They’re just here.” A rustle of papers as she handed over her orders, and her citizen card, and the guard read the details.

  “Guy Masters is your head of department?” He asked.

  “He is.”

  “And he asked you to make a pick up tonight?”

  “He did.”

  “Why so late?”

  “The order wasn’t ready this morning, due to ill health at the farm. They needed a few more hours.”

  “Your husband signed off on you being out this late alone?” Her uniform rubbed as she leaned over to point out his signature at the bottom of the orders slip, “I see.”

  “Mrs. Smith. You slowed on your way out. Why was that?” A different voice asked as I tried to gulp without giving my position away.

  "A stick in my tire, slowing down freed it. My apologies for the delay."

  “You may continue.” Rustling of uniforms and the small click of safeties thumbed back on told me the other guards were lowering their weapons, as Maria edged the car forward and through the sentry gate.

  Several minutes later, we pulled into a garage. Maria shushing at me until the door had shut behind us.

  “Not yet.” She closed her door and walked inside. Hushed voices, one male, the other Maria’s, through the door she had closed.

  “Okay, okay. Get her out,” a male growled as the door opened.

  “Reed. It’s safe now.” She lifted some of the produce she’d picked up from the farm off me and put them on the floor of her garage, helping me out, “This is Steven, my husband. Steven, this is Reed.”

  “Hi Reed. Now, that's a familiar face. At last, those damn posters will change.”

  I cringed. Non-Sels were advertised all around GreyBrook until someone found them. They ushered me through to the house.

  “So, why did you run away?”

  I glanced at Maria, who nodded for me to continue the charade.

  “Um, wasn’t ready to decide?”

  “Took your time though, didn’t you? It’s been three months!”

  I kept my face under control, not display my shock at the time I’d been missing.

  “Er, indecisive, incredibly so,” I murmured

  “Reed, how about a shower?” Maria interjected before Steven asked any more questions.

  “That would be awesome,” I said as she handed me a towel, directing me to their bathroom.

  The hot water was a comfort to my suddenly exhausted, sore muscles. I turned without thinking, so the spray was on my back, gasping with the pain of the water hitting the fresh wounds to my back, but standing under it to get relief for the muscles. My mind wandered under the first hot water I’d had in months, back to when it all began. The room began to close in on me, I shook my head, and washed myself for the third time, trying to get clean, knowing it was likely to be impossible. As I climbed out, I dried myself, and surveyed the damage - my feet were a criss-cross of cuts from the stones, my legs scraped up as though I’d run through blackberries, scars on my hips, and the sides of my trunk, joining those on my back, red and angry as they were only six months or less old. As for clothes, there wasn’t anything other than my Selection Day clothes, or Maria’s uniform.

  “Ah, Maria?” I called, “I’ve only got my Selection Day clothes, and they’re pretty torn.”

  “Oh, right. Hang on.” Wood scraped over wood in another room, drawers opening, Steven’s foot falls coming down the hallway. “No, Steve, I’ll do it.”

  “Maria I’m just here, I’ll do it.”

  I gasped, wrapping the towel around me, and trying to turn to face the door before he came through it, but misjudged the length of the hallway. A surprised grunt, as he saw the scars, and fresh wounds on my shoulders.

  “Runaway, huh?”

  I looked at him, unsure what to say now he didn’t believe I was a runaway. Maria had come up behind him, stifling a gasp. “Runaway, Maria? That doesn’t look like any runaway.”

  She bit her lip, saying nothing.

  “You were Taken, weren’t you?”

  I glanced at them both before staring at the floor.

  “Fuck, Maria. Why?”

  “I couldn’t just drive past her bleeding on the side of the road.”

  “You know what they do to those who are Taken.”

  Maria pulled herself up to her full, though somewhat diminutive height and stared him the eye. “Yes, Steven, I am WELL aware what they do. Well aware.”

  He cringed.

  “And we will just say she is a runaway.”

  “I meant, to those who harbour the Taken, love. I know you're aware. I’m sorry.”

  I looked up, making eye contact with Maria. “You were Taken?” I murmured.

  She nodded, “This big lout was aware of that. The moment I saw you, I could tell you weren’t a runaway, love. I wouldn’t have left you.”

  Steven had walked away whilst we talked, returning with a glass of water and a foiled wrapped tablet in his other hand.

  “No.” I said. Maria frowned, then realised why I wouldn’t take it from Steven, and picked it up herself, unfolding the extra foil so the name of the pill was visible - Nonagone.

  “It’s okay, Reed. We talked about it in the car remember? I promise you, it’s real Nonagone. What do you think it would be?”

  I looked at her, this woman who was a stranger less than two hours ago. “Restoratec”

  She frowned, “Why would we give you that… oh…”

  Restoratec, a drug given to those who were caught in relationships, or even interested in relationships that were not traditionally heterosexual, was used often by force, on unwilling people. “Jesus, Reed. You were damned from birth.” She muttered.

  I laughed. “Yup.”

  Steven shook his head. “Jesus.” He smiled, I let a grin cross my face, and took the pill out of Maria’s hand, gulping it back with the water. Maria handed me some casual clothes, and she and Steven left the bathroom, leaving me alone again. She had also given me a pair of pyjamas, which was unusual - we were supposed to wear a night gown, otherwise, it was considered too masculine. As I picked out a yellow t-shirt, I looked at the rest of the clothes. Maria had given me a blue skirt, shorts, and trousers. I couldn’t make myself wear the skirt, even though I understood it would make me stand out, not being the feminine attire. We were able to wear masculine clothing for work and school related purposes, but at other times women should be seen as ladies. But, today it would have made me overexposed and vulnerable. I folded it, carrying it in one hand, whilst holding my bloodied and torn Selection Day clothes in the other.

  Maria sighed, a short sad sound, when she glanced at the skirt in my hand. “I didn’t think you would, love, but I had to offer it,” She took it from me, “You're aware you will stand out without it?”

  I nodded. “I can�
�t, Maria. I just…”

  She shook her head, patting my hand. “I understand, Reed. It’s okay.” She stood in front of me, looking up as I had at least two inches over her, “You should be safe here. I’ve been where you are, okay? It's why I gave you pyjamas, instead of a nightgown. You do not have to hold yourself together here. We get it. Heck, even that big lovable oaf I call my husband gets it, I promise.”

  I frowned, tears prickling my eyes, but nodded. Swallowing, I tried to clear my throat of the lump before I spoke again. “Thank you, Maria. You’ve put yourself on the line to save me, and I’m incredibly thankful. I can’t ask any more of you.”

  “Shall we call your parents?” she asked, guiding me down the hall, trying to change the subject. I wasn’t sure.

  “And tell them what?” I asked.

  “You ran away?”

  Steven piped up from the other room, “Um, not the best idea, guys.”

  Maria frowned and motioned for me to follow her into the room where Steven was on the computer.

  “Why?” she murmured trying to get a glimpse of the screen.

  I didn’t need to squint, it was Father, on the screen, interviewed after I had gone missing.

  “Because he doesn’t want me back.” I murmured, “If I ran away, I’m not good enough for the Taylors, and am therefore disowned?”

  Steven nodded at Maria, as she looked at me sideways.

  “And, because if I was Taken, I’m damaged goods, and of no use or gain to him regardless of what group I would have chosen.”

  “Can you read it from there?”

  I shook my head, eyes to the ground. “No, but I’m the least wanted child of two, who causes more trouble than she’s worth,” I swallowed, “and I know my Father. He never wanted a girl. Now I’m a damaged girl child. Worthless in most senses of the word.” I shrugged, and looked up at them both, “Thank you for your help, the clothes. It's time to hand myself in, go from there.”

  “You can stay here,” Maria said, “If we tell them you ran away, you’ll be let out tomorrow.”

  “And then what?” I muttered, maybe escaping hadn’t been in my favour.

  Maria sighed, taking a deep breath. “Then, we figure it out. Just like I did. Except I had Steve to come home to.” ‘

  I nodded, my body shattered, trembling with exhaustion.

  “Reed, you need sleep. Come, you can sleep in here.” She led me to a spare room made up with a bed and clean linen. She made me lie down and even tucked me in, which was weirdly comforting.

  “Thank you, Maria.” I murmured, sleepy

  “You’re welcome, love. You call out if you need anything. See you in the morning.” She left, not quite closing the door.

  Exhausted, the moment she left the room I drifted into sleep. Warm, comfortable, I’m sure there may have been a smile on my face. Momentarily.

  “Reed! Reed!” Maria was shouting at me, shaking me awake. Wrapped in the sheets, but on the floor, sweat pouring down my back, panic clenching my throat, scratchy and raw.

  “Huh?” I grunted, startled, staring at her.

  “Oh…Thank God.” She murmured, “You’re awake. You frightened us there. You were screaming.”

  I frowned, then remembered what I’d been dreaming about. “It was a dream. Thank… fuck… it was just a dream.” I looked up at Maria, “Sorry to scare you. I’m… I’m okay… I think.” Shaken, it had seemed so damn real.

  “You sure?”

  I nodded, moving to sit up on the side of the bed.

  “Jesus, Reed, what did he do to you?”

  I shook my head, unable to say anything.

  Morning arrived and it was time to present myself to the Law, to see what they had in store for me. Dressed in the yellow shirt and blue pants I had taken from the pile yesterday, I walked with Maria to the terminal, unable to drive Maria’s car in the central area we would need to present to - it was only for the outer rings’ use. I tried to ignore the looks I was getting. My face bruised from the last beating, and recognisable under the yellow and purple discolouration as the girl on the electronic posters I saw all over the public transport stations. Maria had found me a sports cap to hide my face but it hadn’t seemed to work. I pulled it off and left my hair loose to hide some scars and wounds on the back of my neck.

  Sitting on the train, it wasn’t any better. They knew who I was. Several approached me as they made to get off at different stops, one spitting at me whilst using a slur against Non-Sels. I averted my eyes and tried to ignore them. Maria had to stay silent as though she was taking me in as a criminal. Looking too friendly would make people suspicious of her intentions. I wanted to disappear and now doubted if escaping had been a good idea. I’d stepped back into a worse version of before, without the same escapes I had had, and with trauma to go with it.

  Why had I fought so hard to return to a city that didn’t care about me or anyone like me? Why had I fought to return to a place that didn’t think I was worthy by the very nature of my gender? That would punish me for the things he had done if they were to find out I was Taken rather than a Runaway. Let alone anything else.

  Maria tapped my hand, as we reached the end of the line, startling me out of my pity party, and made out to ‘force” me to stand.

  “You, out, now. Don’t you try anything!” she commanded, though I caught the smallest cringe as she did so.

  I followed along, letting her push me ahead of her.

  “I’m watching you, Non-Sel. Just keep walking.”

  I even threw in a pretend stumble to make it seem as though she was being rough.

  “Ouch,” as she prodded my back.

  “Good. Glad it hurts, get moving!” she commanded, moving forward to be in line with my ear. “Fuck, I hate this. Sorry Reed,” she muttered out the corner of a clenched mouth.

  We arrived at the main headquarters of the Law, and stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up. An imposing building of white stone, much like the court houses I’d seen in some history books, the ones we were allowed to see. It held an almost clinical look, as though there was someone employed just to keep it the crisp white it was, and that germs would be petrified of multiplying here. I started up the stairs, Maria followed me up the stairs and nudged me through the spinning door. She then took my elbow as though she was leading me and restraining my arms at the same time. We walked up to the enquiries desk first.

  “Hi. Who do I see about the return of a Non-Sel?” Maria asked the staff member behind the enquiries desk, who pointed out where she needed to take me. Marching towards the room, pretending to be struggling to convince the guards, “Hi, I have the Non-Sel from this year’s Selection Day, you know, the one on the posters?” She motioned towards me a few feet away. “Introduce yourself.”

  “Reed Taylor. Birth Section - Pius. I did not present for Selection Day.”

  “We’ve been looking for you for quite some time, Miss Taylor. Runaway or otherwise?” I glanced at Maria, who nodded.

  “Runaway,” I muttered.

  “Well, you’ve been away for several months. Took you a long time to decide then?”

  I nodded.

  They took my details, and Maria’s then separated us. They put me in a small room, with lights that were too bright, to sit at a table and wait for someone to come and question me. I squinted under the bright lights and let myself have a small smile at the fact that at least this room was brighter than the last I had been detained in. At some point, someone came in to advise that they had contacted my parents and they would be in soon.

  “Ok. Out of those clothes. Now!” a male guard ordered as I looked at him stunned.

  “Into?” I asked.

  “The greys.” He motioned to the small pile of grey scrubs he had brought with him. Damn, how could I hide the wounds, and scars on my back? I started with the pants, pulling them down my back to the guard, swapping the blue pants out for the grey. I took a deep breath, and turned to the guard, rather than facing away to take off my top. B
eing found out as Taken, would be worse for me than flashing the guard my breasts, despite how much I didn’t want to. I pulled the yellow shirt over my head, making sure my back was facing the wall not the glass panel I knew was a two-way mirror, and then the grey shirt on. Due to the length of the sleeves on the grey uniform, I couldn’t hide the scars on the backs of my arms, just as I hadn’t been able to hide all the wounds on the back of my legs when I had removed my trousers. The difference between my arms and my thighs was that those cuts and scratches on my thighs were new, from falling on my run away from the shed, the scars on my arms were not. Some were not even from Walker and his beatings but from a mixture of behavioural correction by Father, and my own doing.

  “Runaway?” The guard asked, under his breath.

  I nodded.

  “I can see why.” His eyes softened a little, as though he felt empathy for me, which I found a little odd.

  I gave him a sad smile. “Thanks. I think.”

  “Though, why didn’t you choose another section?” he asked softly, “To get away? I did.”

  I looked up a little more and met his eyes rather than give secretive glances, a hangover from my upbringing in Pius. He lifted the edge of his uniform, showing scars similar to my original ones. I nodded, acknowledging I understood where he had been.

  “I couldn’t. Was scared they’d veto it, and force me to go back forever,” I cringed, my parents weren’t that bad, and Father had ceased behavioural correction when I figured out I could get out unscathed if I behaved the way I was supposed to, and kept my mouth shut like a good girl should. At least until he forced me to study for Selection before I was taken. The guard smiled.

  “Ah, well, I guess you won’t have that problem now.”

  “They aren’t coming?” I asked, hurt suddenly they wouldn’t come, even after I’d been missing for months.

  “Your parents? Yes, they’re almost here. They can’t veto a choice by a Non-Sel - when your original section isn’t likely to want a Runaway back. Come now.” He motioned to the door, “You thought I would question you?” When I hesitated, “I’ve kinda done it, with the others looking on through that mirror. The rest will be when you make selection. Your parents should be here by now.”