986 (Complex Series, #1)

Chapter Eight

           I stare at my Vita during Mid-day Meal. Dana no longer glances at me out of the corner of her eye. The number of Officials has balanced out. This may be one of my best chances to not eat it. I know I shouldn’t take the risk, but I want to know. What is so horrible about the Vita that Josh would warn me against it?

Just once. I’ll skip it just once and eat it the rest of my life.

If I don’t eat it though, what do I do with it? I can’t just leave it on my tray when I put in on the conveyor belt to be cleaned. The Officials would see it. Each Vita is separately designed for each girl. They’d be able to trace it back to me if they were to find it. A bright orange cube would catch their attention.

Where else? Is there any other place to get rid of something? The Toilets. We’re allowed to use them between every Teaching. The start of the Teachings structured loosely, so as long as we enter the Teaching within the first few minutes, we are okay. If we need to use the Toilets, we use them quickly between Teachings. We wouldn’t dare ask to use them during the Teachings. They don’t have to worry about us misusing the time or wasting it. There’s nothing else to do besides Teachings.

Time begins to run out. I place the Vita on my tongue, tasting the sour but not chewing it. I place my empty tray on the conveyor belt. Is the one inch cube causing a noticeable bulge? I try to move my teeth to how they normally sit. Are they resting too lightly together? Are they pressed too hard? Do they normally touch at all? The weight of the Vita on my tongue makes each Officials stare seem more attentive. As if they are watching me not all the other girls.

I leave the Eating Hall, towards the Toilets. I enter through the door, going to the last stall. I close the stall door behind me and spit the Vita into my hand. A drop of bright orange saliva drips on to the floor, smacking the steel as it hits. Only a small drop. Is it as noticeable as it seems? Did everyone in the Toilets hear it? Is an Official about to break down the door at any second?

I brace myself. Nothing. Only paranoia.

I rub the drop of orange with the bottom of my shoe. It smears against the metal, barely noticeable.

I flush the toilet so the splash of the Vita won’t be too loud. I drop it into the toilet. The sucking water pulls it away. They must have the sanity not to go through the sewage or else the bright orange would stand out. I slip out of the Toilets, pressing my shaking hands to my sides. I stride to my next Teaching.

At first I don’t notice the effects. It takes a few hours to wear away. It’s not until Literature when I realize it. My head clears. I question the memoir about Ellen more than often. My muscles feel stronger, like I have double the energy. I want to jump up. Yell at the Officials. I want to scream to everyone how wrong our life is. I want to tell all the girls the effects of the Vita.

            I force myself to take slow, deep breaths, clenching and unclenching my fists. Yelling and screaming at the girls will do nothing. I’ll only be dragged off to the Unknown, another girl who failed at rebellion.

I gradually calm down. It takes effort, too much effort. I can’t focus on my memoir and the quiz at the end of Literature. If I refuse to take my Vita, those results will show and the Officials will realize that something’s wrong.

I have to keep eating the Vita or all my secrets might escape me. To keep myself safe, I have to numb myself. It’s destroying my mind. My thoughts. But without it, I might destroy my future in the Complex. Every once in the while, I’ll skip it. Just to remind myself of how my life truly is.

The Complex isn’t perfection. It’s not flawless. Before, I suspected it. Without the Vita, the truth stands right in front of me, clearly visible.