New Beginnings

Audrey Chang

Tompkins

Per 1 WLH

17 April 2014

New Beginnings

            “Maeci McGraw-Hill!” announced Odessa Barons, her pastel green eyes loftily scanning the assembly for the next person for the Taking, her imposing frown following my rising figure…She had been the official of the Taking ever since its introduction thirty years ago.

            Because, as history states, thirty years ago, all of humankind boarded a spaceship that would travel to another habitable planet because the previous had been destroyed by bad morals and the destructive tendencies of human nature.  The next years would be spent devising a new system of microcosms within society—all children would start off in school, then split to Divisions of “Government”, “Innovate”, or “Guardian” by process of the Taking.  April 17^th of each year, the new generation would choose their Divisions—either remaining in the presumed sector of their guardians or forging their future in another—in memory of those who fought for the continuation of the human race…

            I was seated to the end of my row beside my parents—Division Government- and strode to a small set of stairs, serving to buttress the pools of water drank to determine Division, necessary for the Taking.  An uncanny silence fell over the already silent crowd, just like each before me, curious of what Division would be gaining another new member with the sip of liquid from a labeled puddle. 

            Before ascending the stairs that would quite literally lead to my fate, I stopped in my tracks, waiting for an extrinsic clue, signifying my presence in a dream.  But nothing appeared out of the normal to deter me from the continuation of this deciding day.  I had no other choice than to suffer my worst nightmare.  My decision, or rather indecisiveness, on the day of my Taking. 

            Tick. Tock.  My internal clock counted.  The worn footprints of those before me, leaving an indentation in the mahogany. The threads of my blue-gray garb, systematically stitched and issued by the Government Division slightly frayed from a year of daily use.  In front of me, Odette Barons, other representatives, and 3 containers that would, in essence, contain and decide my future endeavors. The crowd of friends, family, and acquaintances—acquired from years of chores done around the Division watched from behind.  They would be my past, if I were to chose another Division, or my decided future, if I were to conform to the set standards of remaining in Government.

I had become so accustomed to my friends’ presence that I felt their gaze bore into my backside, questioning the validity of my decision.  They too were probably reminiscing about the days that had gone too soon without a trace…

...The day was gloomy and dark, so we sat inside snacking on cookies and chocolate milk.  Ryan, my best friend who also belonged to the Government Division, suggested, “I wonder what Division we all would end up in? I mean—we would want to stay in Government ‘cause that’s what’s expected from both the parents and the politic people, but then again I sort of wanna make my own path…”  At that prospect, we quieted, thinking that it would be a few years away and we would never need to worry about it.  At that time, being young was a commodity, however, as we got older we valued that youth more and more as our fleeting young years left us with nothing but a trace of individuality and more problems than there were solutions in the world.  But now that the moment had arrived, and I only had a few seconds to make my decision and define my future…  

            Another step forward—the cracked, charcoal grey, shallow cup that was replaced this year, but already displaying a chip on the outer rim from the hundreds who had already made up their mind on a permanent Division. 

                       Up the first step—the Government container, a corrugated wooden bowl covered with a veneer of polish. 

Proceeding up the stairs—the Innovate, maintaining its metallic sheen of durable metal

Reaching the final platform—the Guardian Division’s granite stone basin containing a small remnant of murky fluid.  

            My conscious guided me to choose my own path and be free of the reign of my parents and my Division, but on the contrary, my indoctrinated mind taught me to remain in the same Division to make my parents proud and head of Government pleased. 

            However anybody may have protested, the choice would be made and would be made to benefit society as a whole.  Each microcosm would donate their knowledge and skill towards funding a complete society, whether it be running society, advancing society, or protecting society. 

            The voices that all the advice I had received rung in my ears, competing and conflicting with one another—encouraging individualism, but enforcing conformity.

            Which Division would reap the best results? Which Division would yield happiness in my decision? Which Division would be applauded? Which division would be…me?

            Hesitantly, but swiftly.  I.  Picked up the mug.  Stood in front of the three basins.  Lifted my arm.  Made my last goodbyes to my family in my thoughts.  Welcomed my new Division. 

            Started at the farthest end of the three choices.

            And moved closer to the Guardian bowl. 

            Past the Guardian bowl.  Moved my mug closer to the surface of the waters of Government Division.  And took a drink of my choice.   All the Divisions applauded.  Cheers to a new beginning.