“So, you’re saying that the system now is better? Taking people under cover of darkness? Mutilating them? Turning them into monsters? Killing them when they don’t turn out as expected?”
“Look around next time you’re outside,” Dana said. “Look at the poverty line, and how low the crime rate is. Look at the rate of people unemployed, homeless, starving…we are leading the world with the happiest, healthiest population. We have not seen war since the Second Revolution. Overall, I would say this system is much better.”
“So, the fact that the population doesn’t know what happens to the people the Commission captures is not a factor?”
“Oh, Little Lily, they know,” Dana chuckled brokenly. “Maybe not the specifics, but it is not difficult to figure out. Why don’t they say anything? They don’t want to know. It’s too much on their conscious. They turn a blind eye because it’s a dark spot on their otherwise-perfect world. It interferes with achieving their dream.”
“I think the people of America would like to know that the subjects of the Commission are being turned into weapons. If we’re not in war, why create human weapons?”
“Preparedness.” Dana shrugged the question off. “And curiosity,” he added with a malicious grin.
“Then that’s your dream? Make an ultimate weapon out of humans? And that’s important enough that you can justify killing all these people?” I snarled.
Dana smiled wider.
“There is nothing to justify,” he said coldly. “But you are starting to understand…”
“Then, what you’re saying is that you should be taken into the Commission as well? You said that no one was an exception to the rules, so that would also include you, right?” I felt proud being able to twist his words back on him.
“I’m also working toward my dreams.” Dana leaned forward once more, grinning wickedly. “I’m curious, Little Lily, what keeps you from taking what you want? What stops you from standing up for yourself? Telling your parents that you refuse to move here?”
“They’re my parents…”
“No, forget societal influences and obligations. What stops you? You can ignore society, so why don’t you?”
“Because it would hurt the people I care about and who care about me.”
“Oh, those people,” Dana groaned. “They don’t see you as anything other than an obligation and a means to an end.”
“That’s not true,” I contradicted. “If I took everything I wanted, I might have it, but then I wouldn’t have anyone around, and it wouldn’t be worth it in the end. It’s something that happens as you get older. Your whole view changes.”
Dana smiled and pointed at me again.
“Exactly. That is why the Commission exists. People would take what they wanted without regard for the people around them, causing harm to plenty of good citizens. The Commission took them and now everyone can work collectively to the benefit of the good citizens rather than trying to figure out what to do with the criminals and people who cause others pain.” Dana leaned back once more and folded his hands in front of him. “You can’t make an argument against the existence of the Commission. You said yourself that those people hurt others because they take what they want without regard.”
“That doesn’t answer the question about you, though,” I growled. “You take what you want from people—from society—without regard.”
“No,” Dana chuckled, shaking his head, “people give me what I want. I don’t take it. I just make people want to give it to me.”
“Then…doesn’t that make you much worse?”
Dana shrugged. “No one has complained so far.”
His phone buzzed and he groaned, annoyed, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He stared at the screen for a moment before collapsing in the chair, his head rolling back and his hands falling uselessly to his lap.
“Emergency meeting, kids,” he sighed, though he made no effort to move. “I must leave.”
“What happened?” Clark asked, speaking for the first time since the debate started.
“Leader Simon…” Dana grumbled, getting out of his chair with the lack of enthusiasm a child had when throwing a tantrum. He even stomped his feet as he moved to the door. “We’ll talk tomorrow…maybe…”
He left. It was so abrupt and bizarre that I stayed still for several long moments before smacking Clark on the arm.
“Ow! What the—”
“Why did you just sit through that whole thing?!”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to say,” he mumbled. “I just…kinda freeze up when he’s around.”
I sighed and closed my eyes, slumping back in my seat, exhausted.
* *** *
Clark and I were supposed to be working on homework, but after Dana left, we spent our time underlining words in our books to communicate. I told Clark about Dean and how angry the other Commish Kids were during the gathering at lunch. He told me that he would have to keep a close eye on Dana’s calendar and plan a time around his meetings to break into the records room and look up experiments.
I went home turning over too many thoughts in my head.
When I walked in the front door, my mother and father were waiting for me at the dining table. I stopped in my tracks when I looked over their stern expressions, instinctive fear seeping into me.
“What’s wrong?”
“We got a message from your school today,” my mother started.
“You’ve failed two consecutive tests,” my father added. I sighed, walking to the table and sitting, realizing I was in for a lecture. “Do you want to tell us what’s going on?”
“Dad,” I started, “I’m trying really hard to adjust to all this…I mean….the Commission and everything…”
“I know it’s hard, honey, but you are part of the Commission of the People and you need to be conscious of the image the Commission has as a whole, which means you need to be the best you can be.”
“What do my grades have to do with the image of the Commission?” I snapped.
“Honey, calm down,” my mother cooed.
“No! Don’t tell me to calm down!” I growled, standing.
“Lily Grace Sandover, sit yourself down and do not talk back to me!” my mother ordered, pointing at the chair.
“No, Mother!” I rebelled against her for the first time in my life. “How can you expect me to be fine when I know that the Commission of the People mutilates people and turns them into weapons?! I’m the one that has to be there every day and see these people!”
“We’ve been over this, Lily,” my mother growled. “They are criminals. It’s for the greater good that the Commission takes them off the streets.”
“Dad, how can you be okay with this?” I gasped. “The Commission took in your own brother, for God’s sake!”
My father hesitated before sighing and shaking his head. I felt my heart fall and my jaw drop.
“Do you not care?” I hissed. “Aren’t you…are you even angry?”
“Lily,” he said tenderly, “you’re young…and when I was your age, I was angry. I was angry at my father for calling in my brother, but I was also angry at my brother. Now, I know that you think what the Commission does is wrong, but as I’ve gotten older…I’ve come to realize that people like my brother are dangerous. You can’t fight against something as powerful as the good of the nation’s people, and that’s what the Commission seeks to protect.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this!”
“Lily, you’re only seventeen. How do you expect to know everything about the world and how it should be?” My mother shook her head. I hated when she used the age card.
“Sweetheart,” my father started, trying to diverge my attention, “I know that you care, and I know that you’re upset about what you see in the Commission. But something that you’ll come to realize is that not everyone is equal. There are some people that are dangerous to the delicate balance of society. I know it’s tough to swallow, but what Dana and the
Commission does is the best thing for American society. It keeps things balanced and safe.”
“But…all those people…people like Mykail…” How was I expected to just shut off my feelings about all those who had been taken from their families and had their lives destroyed?
“You’re going to have to learn how to stop looking at them like that,” my mother said. “They’re not people anymore.”
I couldn’t respond.
“And you’re going to have to get your grades up,” she added. “No more failing tests. If you do, we will have to ask Dana if there is someone in the Commission to tutor you through your classes until you get the grades you used to pull.”
My blood ran cold. I couldn’t have someone looming over my shoulder. It would make planning the revolution that much more difficult. I went quiet and bowed my head, nodding.
“Okay…”
“Alright, dinner is in the oven, so go ahead and set your stuff down and wash up,” my mother said, moving into the kitchen.
I was furious at my mother and father for being so accepting of the Commission, even after seeing all that happened there, even after seeing the way Dana treated Miranda and Julie in front of everyone, and seeing the way Eyna screamed when he was on the table…they were still accepting the Commission of the People.
I stormed to my room, passing Mykail’s door. I was sure he had heard everything but I was so angry that I could not face him. I threw my bag angrily against the side of my desk and shrugged off my coat, my tunneled vision turning red.
A few minutes later, after I had taken off my shoes and flopped on my bed, there was a knock at my door. My father poked his head into my room.
“I know you’re pissed,” he murmured. “But I just wanted to let you know that, regardless of the grades and everything else, I really appreciate how good you’ve been about the move and the Commission and everything.” He stepped into my room, closing the door. “You’re mother…I think she’s just trying to process everything, and I think that she says what she does because she wants to believe it herself.”
I groaned and sat up, rolling my eyes.
“She never used to think like that.”
“Oh, your mother’s always been steadfast,” my father laughed, sitting next to me. I huffed again, still feeling my anger course through my veins. He reached an arm around me, hugging me as I rested my head against his shoulder. He smelled the same way he always had—a hint of cinnamon and aftershave. It was comforting to realize that, even after everything, that had not changed.
“Your mother’s been a little difficult lately,” my father admitted. “We’ve had our disagreements about the Commission. It’s hitting everyone hard.”
“Then you don’t agree with the Commission?” I asked, hopeful. He hesitated and then sighed heavily, causing my heart to fall.
“I agree that the Commission is essential in maintaining the balance of current American society,” he said carefully. “What I don’t agree with is Dana. There is something about him that…worries me.”
“Only something?” I groaned. “Not everything?” My father laughed.
“Alright, I admit that Dana is not entirely right in the head. But…I also think that he might have been raised in that environment. He said that he worked with Bryant Morris, he must have only been a boy at that time. Imagine if you were raised with that horror around you all the time. I think that has the potential to screw anyone up.”
“I agree with that…” I said slowly. “But Dana is in a really powerful position of the government, and he doesn’t seem to be in a fit mental state to be making rulings on people’s lives.”
My father rubbed my shoulder, pulling me into a tighter hug. We sat in silence, not sure what to say, knowing that, at the moment, we were powerless.
“Are the kids still upset about Miranda and Julie?” he whispered.
“They’re really upset.”
“I don’t blame them,” my father muttered. “I mean, if they needed to be taken in, that’s the Commission’s ruling, but he didn’t need to make such an extreme example of them at the meeting. I guess the problems with the Commission children have been pretty bad.” He turned to me and rested his head on mine. “Are those boys still giving you trouble?”
“No.”
“Good,” he said, kissing my forehead. “I’m sorry about your mother today. I’ll talk to her. She should have been more understanding of how hard this has been on you.” My father kissed my head again and hugged me tight before standing. “Alright, I’m getting Mykail for dinner. Come down whenever you’re ready.”
“Okay.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, Dad.”
* *** *
My father did try to talk to my mother that night. Mykail and I both listened to them in the living room, but the discussion quickly turned into a heated argument where my mother accused my father of not supporting her in raising me as a proper Commission child. My father tried to remind her that they had always told me it was my choice if I wanted to go into politics, but now I was stuck and it was going to take time for me to adjust to the idea.
The fight quickly got ugly, and by the time it was over and my mother stormed away, I was close to tears and Mykail had to hold onto me while I cried into his chest.
Wednesday I walked around in a haze. I was tired and stressed about the fight between my parents the previous night. Becca asked me what was wrong, but I assured her that it had nothing to do with the Commission. I asked if she would be willing to come to my house on Sunday. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to invite people over, but I knew that my mother and father had a charity event for the whole day on Sunday, so they would be out.
I wasn’t sure, either, if I was going to show Mykail to Becca or not—it was something I would have to discuss with Clark.
The day went by without incident. After school, I walked to the side parking lot and found Mark standing next to the car. He smiled and bowed his head when I walked up. I smiled and bowed my head a little as well, hoping I was able to hide my bad mood from him.
I tried to smile when he straightened, but I saw his face fall quickly. Since we were alone in the parking lot, I knew he had seen my drawn expression.
He opened his mouth, but stopped.
“I’m alright, I’m alright,” I said quickly. I gave him two thumbs up with a weak smile. He shook his head and carefully put his hands on top of mine, pushing them down.
He knew I was lying.
I allowed my hands to drop to my sides, not knowing what to say, averting my eyes to my shoes. The situation went from awkward to weird very quickly. I had no way to communicate with him and he had no way to communicate with me, but we both knew that the other was worried.
Suddenly, a thought clicked. I raised my hand, pinching my left earlobe to tell Mark I was sorry. He hesitated and then rubbed his nose once before biting his lower lip.
I sighed. He was trying to tell me something, but Mykail had only taught me a few of the signs. I used another one I knew. I ran my hand through my hair and closed my eyes, tilting my head to the side tiredly. That meant I didn’t understand. He nodded, reaching up and pinching his left ear.
“You don’t need to be sorry, Mark,” I said. “I’m alright.”
He shook his head and reached out, pointing at my face with both pointer fingers and pushing them into my cheeks. I backed away at first, but when he moved his fingers to make me smile, the adorable action made me break out laughing.
Mark chuckled silently.
We waited for a few minutes before I started to wonder about Clark. Mark looked around and then glanced at his wrist watch before offering his hand for my backpack. I handed it to him with a ‘thank you’ and he placed it in the trunk as I leaned against the car. I reached into my purse, pulling out my phone, bored.
I had a text message from Clark.
Hey. I will be a little late. Long story. Tell Mark that I am okay. He gets frantic when I’m
not on time and he will come looking for me. Make sure he knows that I’m okay.
I turned to Mark quickly, who was pacing nervously behind the car.
“Mark!” I called. He walked over immediately. “Clark is okay,” I said slowly and clearly so he could understand. “He will be here soon.”
Mark just stared at me through his sunglasses. I groaned in frustration.
“I really need to figure out the best way to communicate with you…” I mused. I said very clearly and slowly that Clark was okay and Mark nodded, sighing in relief. I smiled, thrilled to see that Mark cared so much about Clark.
We waited for twenty long minutes before Clark appeared. After fifteen minutes, Mark was getting very anxious and pacing again. I felt apprehensive as well, not sure what to expect from the ‘long story’ that Clark had to explain why he was late. I spent the last five minutes of our wait trying to calm Mark. He did not understand what I was saying and I had to actually grab him by the arm and tell him very clearly that Clark was alright again before he stopped pacing.
When he did see Clark, he darted to him.
“Mark, I’m alright,” Clark said when he saw the experiment running toward him. He lifted his hands. “I promise. I’m sorry that took so long. I’m okay. I’m alright.”
When they both reached the car, Mark took Clark’s backpack and put it in the trunk.
“Where were you?” I hissed. “Mark was going to go postal any second.”
“He gets a little worried,” Clark said. “Saved me my teeth once, though, so I’m grateful he does worry.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m bullied a lot, and one time I was jumped by some guys after school. When Mark found me, he gave them all some black eyes before taking me home.” Mark opened the door for us and Clark smiled as he climbed in the car behind me. “So, I am very happy that he gets worried. But, since he can’t read English, it’s really difficult for me to send him a text message when I tell him I’m going to be late. Thankfully, you were there today.”
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