Blemished, The (15 page)

T
he tranquillity of our walk, as always, was cut short. Outside our house stood a man in a leather jacket and I recognised him immediately from the Resistance meeting and Daniel’s vision.

“What is he doing here?” I asked between gritted teeth. I folded my arms.

Dad walked over to the man and shook his hand. “Mina, this is Matthew.”

Matthew looked at me with an amused grin, which I instantly found annoying. “Nice to meet you, Mina,” he said, performing a little bow. “Although I do believe we’ve met before. You’re quite fast for a girl.”

“Faster than you, anyway,” I retorted.

He laughed. He had the same laugh as my dad which was disturbing. “Well it’s nice to finally meet face to face.”

Matthew smiled. He had warm hazel eyes and dark hair. He maintained my eye contact for just a little too long, searching my face for something. Uncomfortable, I muttered a goodbye and disappeared into the house. When I shut the door I turned and pressed my ear to the wood, trying to catch a few words of their conversation before they moved inside.

“So that’s her then?” Matthew said. “She’s got a bit of fight in her. She isn’t going to take this lying down.”

“I know,” my Dad agreed. “You’ll have to talk to her, but I have every faith you can do it. Shall we step into the kitchen?”

That was my cue to leave. On tip-toes I fled to the basement.

*

After an almost silent dinner together, where my Dad deflected all my questions about Matthew, I went to my room and unfolded the note from Sebastian. Then I removed the necklace and turned the wooden pendant over and over in my hands. I had just a few hours until I needed to sneak out of the house. I knew that I had to go. But then I looked down at the necklace with a sinking feeling in my stomach, my fingers traced the letters of my name, pressing down hard on the grooves. With as much conviction as I could muster I shook the feelings away.

Later that night I climbed down the drainpipe, something that had become almost second nature to me, and jogged through the streets. It was a clear night with a full moon – meaning that the world was brighter. I saw Sebastian at our usual spot.

“Mina,” he said, helping me over the wall. He breathed my name like a sigh. “It’s so good to see you.” He pulled me into a hug, one which took me by surprise but wasn’t unpleasant.

Then, remembering the sores on my hand I broke away. “You shouldn’t have spoken to me at school like that.”

“I know,” he said, “I’ve been worrying about it all day. Were you put in detention? Worse?”

I laughed without humour. “Worse.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Tell me when you’re leaving. Are you going to the farm?”

“Tell me what happened to you first,” he said sternly.

With a sigh I held up my palms, the injuries just visible in the moonlight. “She punished me.”

Sebastian took my hands in his, staring incredulously at the angry red marks in the centre of my palm. He gently lifted my hands and leaned to meet them with his lips. He kissed both injuries. A pleasant, tingling sensation spread from my palms up my arms and to my face. He let my hands go and smiled warmly.

“You should come with us to the farm. You wouldn’t get beaten there,” he said.

“Could I bring my dad? Angela?” I stopped my mouth from forming the last name.

Sebastian frowned. “I don’t think so. Just you.”

“Then I can’t come. I can’t leave them behind.”

His eyes flashed with frustration and he turned away from me. His hands curled up into tight balls.

“You’re months away from the Operation,” he said after a long pause. “Don’t you want to be saved?”

I hesitated. “I want to save myself.”

He turned with eyes dark and doubtful. “What can you do to save yourself? You’re just a girl.”

My mouth gaped. “Just a girl? I can do more than you––”

“Yes, your telekinesis,” he snapped. “What is that realistically going to achieve?”

“Well, I don’t know, but––”

“But nothing, Mina.” He reached forward and grabbed my shoulders. “If you come with me we can be together. We can work together on the farm. Someday we could have a child, maybe three, and grow old and have grandchildren.”

I stared up at him. “Is that what you really want?”

He squeezed my shoulders harder, so hard I almost flinched. “More than anything.”

“I can’t have children, I’m Blemished.”

“My genes will cancel yours out.”

I pulled away from his tight grip. “What if it isn’t what I want?”

“Why wouldn’t you want that? It’s better than your life now.”

His hands still pressed into my shoulders and I wriggled to try and get away. “It might be better but it’s still not what I want. Let me go!”

“I don’t understand,” he said. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to be with me? To have children? We could have a good life together.”

“I don’t want children, I don’t know… I’ve never thought about it.” I wriggled again and this time Sebastian’s grip loosened.

“Then maybe you’ll change your mind,” he said. “I’m offering you a way to get out of this place.”

I hesitated. There was nothing I wanted more than to escape the Operation. But it had to be through freedom. What Sebastian described was just another way to control me. It made me shudder. It felt wrong.

“I don’t want it,” I said. “I’m sorry. I want to be with my dad. I want to look after my friends. I want to make my own choices and figure things out my way.”

“It’s because of the carpenter isn’t it?” he said bitterly. He finally let go of my shoulders and I rubbed them. “That’s the real reason. Everything else you say is just a lie.”

“No it isn’t. Look, I appreciate what you are offering me, I really do. But you are asking me to give up my family for a life that I don’t really want to live––”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want to fight,” I shouted. “I want to fight back, not just run away. If I go with you then it’s just hiding. Hiding from the truth of what’s going on out there. I want to do something about it. I don’t know
why
I have this gift but maybe there is a reason and maybe I’m meant to be able to use it somewhere. I have to try, Sebastian.”

“You’re deluded,” he said, shaking his head. “You can’t go up against the Ministry. The Resistance is all but over. There’s nothing you can do about anything. You’re just a stupid little girl who can throw a few rocks around with her mind.”

I saw the sullen sneer on his face through the moonlight and wondered to myself where the Sebastian I knew had disappeared. This wasn’t
my
Sebastian who made me feel safe and talked in soft tones. This was little more than a spoiled boy who couldn’t get his own way.

“I’m sorry, Sebastian, but I’m not going to change my mind. I don’t want to leave things like this. Let’s not fight.” I reached forward to stroke his cheek. He let me.

“I’m just so disappointed,” he said with a croak in his voice. “I really thought I could save you.”

“For you to be able to save me I need to want to be saved.”

“Yeah, I guess that was my first mistake.” He smiled and I saw a glimmer of the old Sebastian back. “But the offer is always open.” He reached into his pocket and took out another sheet of paper. “This is a map to the farm. If you are in trouble. If you need help. Or if you change your mind.”

“I understand.”

He leaned forward and kissed me – soft and sweet. It was a pleasant, warm and beautiful kiss and I felt myself relax into it. My heart raced as he pulled away from me, taking his warmth away. Then he was gone and I stood alone in the darkness.

*

I walked home with a heavy heart and a mind that continued to race. I worried about whether I had done the right thing. There was another nagging feeling at the back of my mind. It wouldn’t shut up. It grew larger with every step. It was the feeling that I was being followed. Yet every time I turned around there was nothing behind me but shadows.

T
he next day I walked to school with an upset but visibly relieved Angela. We passed the market. I watched as the people set up for the day; pinning back tarpaulin roofs, laying out fruit, jangling change in their utility belts. I bought an apple and chewed it as we walked.

“I’m glad you feel better,” I said to my friend. “I know it’s hard but I think it will be a good thing for you
and
your mum. She’ll get the care she needs, you know. I trust my dad – he won’t let you down.”

“I know. And I talked it over with Daniel. We even managed to tell her while she was coherent. She wasn’t angry or anything.”

“Do you want to come round to mine later so we can sort everything out?”

Angela smiled and I noted that her dimpled grin was back. It was a relief to finally see it again. “Yes, that would be nice.” She paused and frowned. “There’s just one thing.”

“What is it?” I asked, taking another bite of apple.

“I told Daniel about you and Sebastian.”

“I know, he said something to me at your house.” My fingers flitted up to my throat to touch the bulge where my necklace nestled under my tunic.

“The thing is… he was really upset and mad with you. He likes you, Mina. Really likes you.”

I like him too, I thought to myself, but you liked him first.

“Things are over with Sebastian anyway.”

“Really?”

I nodded. “He offered to take me with him when he goes away. I said no.”

Angela looked at me in disbelief. “Why the hell did you do that?”

“Because,” I said with a sigh. “He wants to be a proper family, grow old – have kids.” I lowered my voice as I spoke.

“That’s all I want,” Angela said sadly.

I almost laughed at the irony. “Well, I want to fight first. I don’t know about all that. All I know is that I want to make my own decisions. They won’t be made for me. And that is why I’m going to do something before the Operation.”

“But, what?”

I laughed. “Get out of here, I guess. And take you with me.”

As we walked through the school gates I saw Elena picking her homework out of the mud. I bent down and took her last book and she smiled gratefully. Then I felt Mrs Murgatroyd’s eyes on me. She stood by the gate with arms folded. I handed Elena her book and hurried on down the corridor with Angela.

“What did you do to Murder-Troll?” she asked. “She looks like she’s going to kill you.”

I threw a glance over my shoulder to see her eyes still focussed on me. “I have no idea.” With a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach I remembered walking home last night. I remembered the growing feeling of being followed. Then I remembered Mrs Murgatroyd’s threat. The
eyes.
What if it was her? Blood thudded in my ears. Bile rose in my throat. 

“Are you okay?” Angela asked as we made our way to the first class. “You’ve gone really pale.”

“I’m fine. I just feel a bit weird.”

I entered the classroom. It felt wrong. The chairs were arranged differently – pushed together into a circle. The rest of the Blemished girls stood around unsure of where to sit and why the strange arrangement. In the centre of the circle was a single chair as though one of us would be the focus.

“Everyone take a seat except Miss Hart.” Mrs Murgatroyd’s voice made me jump. There was a hard edge to it, even colder than usual. I shivered. “Miss Hart, I believe there is a place for you in the middle of the circle.”

With shaking legs I stepped through a gap between two chairs and made my way to the centre. I turned and eyed each of my classmates in desperation while Mrs Murgatroyd looked down at me with a strangely tense smirk on her face. It was as though she was mentally battling with an
inner conflict. It made her seem frightened and cruel in equal measure. With my chest feeling tight and my breathing coming out in rasps I took my seat in the circle. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Angela’s concerned face.

“For today’s lesson I needed an example, which is why you see Miss Hart at the centre,” said Mrs Murgatroyd as she slowly walked around the outside of the circle. “Today’s lesson is about boys. You see, there are some among you who seem to have had some experience in this area. Isn’t that right, Miss Hart?”

“I… I… suppose,” I stuttered.

I tried to rein in my emotions, to concentrate and be in control. I couldn’t use my gift in front of all these people. It would be too obvious. I glanced down at my hands hoping that she wasn’t going to beat me in front of the class. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Billie shaking her head and remembered what she had said in the garden.

“Angela Dixon?”

“Yes, Miss,” Angela replied with a shaky voice.

“Tell the class how a good Blemished girl should behave around members of the opposite sex,” Mrs Murgatroyd instructed.

“Not to look at them directly. Modestly,” Angela recited.

“That’s correct.” Mrs Murgatroyd continued her slow lap of the chairs with her hands folded behind her back – the picture of control. “And why is that?”

“Um, we don’t want to give them the wrong idea,” Angela replied quietly.

“That’s correct,” said Mrs Murgatroyd. “You are not here to mate. Your genes have been proven unworthy. You are here as servants to the GEMs, which is your rightful place. And if you are lucky and behave
appropriately
for a Blemished then you may even get a job. Now Angela, could you tell me one more thing? How should a Blemished girl behave in the company of a male GEM?”

“W… we shouldn’t talk to them. Or look at them. Unless we are spoken to,” she answered quietly.

“Excellent,” Mrs Murgatroyd said. “Now, class. I would like you to answer together. Should you talk to a GEM boy?”

“No,” said the class in unison.

“Should you reveal your hair to a GEM boy?”

“No!”

I didn’t join in the chant. At this point the tears began to roll slowly down my cheeks and my lips trembled so badly I couldn’t open them.

“Should you let a GEM boy touch you?”

“No!”

“And how about you, Miss Hart? Should
you
let any of these things happen?” Mrs Murgatroyd moved into the centre of the circle and bent low to speak to me. I felt her hot breath on my cheek.

I shook my head.

“Yet you did. Didn’t you?” She yanked at my headscarf and began to unwrap my hair. Her pointed nails scraped on the back of my neck and her rough fingers pulled my head back and forth. “Do you think you are better than everyone else in this room?”

“No,” I said hoarsely. I could
barely see through my tears. I shut my eyes against the stares of my peers.

“Then why do you act like it?” she said cruelly. She grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. “You bring everything on yourself, Miss Hart. When will you learn
your place
?”

On the last word she yanked my head back even further and pulled a pair of scissors out of her jacket pocket. The rest of the class gasped. I stared at them – wide-eyed. For a horrible moment I thought she might stab me, but then she did something almost as awful. With a ghastly smile on her face Mrs Murgatroyd cut chunks out of my hair; big, uneven, ugly chunks. I watched in horror as the long strands fell to the floor.