Despite What You Say

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. She loved the feeling of the sun rays filtering through the window, the warmth tickling her chilled skin. How she wished she could stay in this room all day, but she already broke at least three of the many house rules to enjoy this illusion of being outside.

The young woman sighed as she picked herself up off the carpeted floor and straightened her skirt. She couldn’t be found with wrinkles again; it would be another infraction on her record, and she couldn’t afford another one. Two more, and she would be severely punished. Knowing that should frighten her to complete obedience, but it didn’t. She only tried to follow the rules to spare her mother any worry.

According to the Kaputli Elite, she was born only to be punished, which was her fault. She shouldn’t have been born with freckles; something that used to be a thing of beauty over two centuries ago was considered a blemish. Then as time passed, her curviness sealed her fate; she wasn’t allowed outside with the Ideal. She wasn’t allowed to use her given name, Kalystah, a name the world didn’t deem worthy of having since she contradicted their standards of pure beauty. Now she was only called Bryce; her real name was only used in her subconscious or by her mother during her rare visits.

“My most beautiful, my Kalystah,” her mother often whispered in her native Greek. Her mother thought her freckles were stars plucked from the night skies she had only seen pictures of. The only window was in the Kaputli Commander’s room, a room that she, as a Tainted, was not allowed in unless you were about to be granted a reprieve. She would never get one because of her curves; they couldn’t be hidden behind makeup like her freckles. Though she could sneak into the forbidden room for a few minutes during the day when the Commander was otherwise occupied elsewhere, it was impossible to do so at night.

An airy British accent called out from just outside the doorway. “Bryce! I swear you are a glutton for punishment.” Kalystah softly smiled, knowing that if she was caught in the wrong place at any time, who better than her best friend to find her? She armed herself with fake innocence and turned to Cosette, whose heterochromatic eyes sparked angrily at having caught Kalystah in the Commander’s room.

“I knew this wasn’t my room; it’s much too bright,” Kalystah joked as she bolted out of the room and down the creaky stairs. There wasn’t any point in sneaking; no one else dared to be caught near these stairs. Cosette followed, not even bothering to mask her annoyance. “Bryce, one day, the Commander is going to come in while you’re in there, and then,” Cosette trailed off. Everyone knows what happened to the last person caught in a Commander’s room; they were severely punished and sent to the Kaputli’s private sector. No one knows what happens there, but they know it would make the house seem like paradise.

To say it was terrible in a Kapulti house was an understatement. The people here were constantly mocked for their minor imperfections. Extreme discipline was given for the slightest offenses. If there were enough infractions on record, the punishment was a mix of humiliation, pain, and trauma. Kalystah shivered at the images that flooded her brain from the one time she saw the terrible punishment take place. That was part of the humiliation, the publicity of it. All in the house were crammed into the center room and forced to watch it unfold. And to top it all off, the punishment was based on the individual and their record; you couldn’t mentally prepare for it beforehand.

Kalystah knew all of this, but she had a bit of a rebellious side. It crawled just under the surface, hence the amount of middle and low-tier infractions, but she knew that if allowed to break free completely, well, that was precisely why she kept it restrained.

But, the older Kalystah got, the harder it was to contain herself. Whereas other mothers taught their children the rules to survive and stay under the Kapulti’s radar, Kalystah’s mother taught her that beauty wasn’t in perfection. Her mother would sneak in pictures of various flowers with messages on the back every visit. In scribbled Greek, her mother wrote once, “This is an oriental lily, my Kalystah. Do you see that it has freckles as you do? Do you see that this one’s petals are shaped differently than those of a rose? But like you, they are most beautiful. Don’t let them take away your beauty. The moment you start believing the Kapulti and think you are not worthy of being called beautiful, that is when the Kapulti win.”

“Bryce? Hello?” Cosette waved her hand in front of Kalystah, “where did you go?”

Kalystah faltered, wondering if she should tell Cosette. There wasn’t such a thing as a private conversation; the house was small, and the walls were thin. Speaking a different language kept most conversations secret from other Tainteds, but no one was quite sure about the Kapulti Commanders. If the Commanders heard and understood their discussions, they never acted on them. Despite the lack of a precedent, no one discussed something that would lead to a terrifying, unknown punishment.

Shaking her head, Kalystah looked at Cosette, carefully considering how she should answer. “I was thinking about my mother.” Cosette raised an eyebrow curiously; Kalystah didn’t talk about her mother. It wasn’t because Kalystah didn’t love her mother; she did intensely. No, Kalystah didn’t talk about her mother to protect her.

Her mother was a Maskie, the highest honor a Tainted could ever hope to enjoy. A Maskie could easily cover their quote-on-quote ‘disgusting features’ with makeup, clothing, or contacts. Maskies were treated better than the Tainted; they were allowed in the outside world along with the Ideals, Commanders, and Elite. But, an unbreakable, forced-upon bracelet told everyone they should be treated as second-class citizens.

Kalystah held no envy or hatred against her mother; how could she? Her mother loved her despite the circumstances. She came to every scheduled visit with comforting words and simple gifts. Her mother told Kalystah she was beautiful though the world said otherwise. And that is precisely why Kalystah couldn’t talk about her mother. If the Kapulti Elite and Commanders found out, they would ensure that Kalystah and her mother begged for death.

Numerous pictures of flowers were spread on Kalystah’s bed as she stared at the back of one fondly. Some were worn and creased from constant folding and unfolding, but Kalystah never felt they took away from their allure. If it wasn’t for the random check-ins, she would have plastered her mother’s words and photos all over the walls, adding color to her otherwise dull room.

Her favorite was the one in her hand, an image of a purple iris. Kalystah didn’t love it for the flower but for her mother’s words on the back. My Kalystah, I wish you knew what it was like before the Kapulti came into power. I have heard stories of life all those years ago when we weren’t solely judged by our physical differences. When families were allowed the choice to live together. There is a botanical garden nearby where I live, and I often find myself imagining you, my most beautiful, walking through and smelling all of these flowers for yourself.

Kalystah scoffed as she began to clean up her prized possessions; she could never have them out for too long for fear of being caught. It always made her angry that the Kapulti had broken many people’s spirits, but it made her even more irate to know it didn’t have to be this way. The world had worked for thousands of years despite such slight differences, and to have people like the Kapulti ruin that made her blood boil.

Taking a deep breath, Kalystah pushed down her rage and focused on the task at hand. Just in time, she hid her pictures in their usual place, a loose board underneath her crickety bed. A male, commanding, monotone voice entered the room before the person did. “Bryce. Why, pray tell, are you underneath your bed?”

Kalystah slowly lifted her head to peek over the bed, eyeing the polished boots of the house’s Commander before swiftly standing upright. “Commander…I…umm…thought,” Kalystah started, stalling for a good reason to come to her. In her peripheral, she spotted a white sock of hers. “Ah, there it is!” Kalystah held up the sock and victoriously waved it in the air. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

The Commander didn’t look impressed. “Congratulations, Bryce,” he sarcastically commented as his eyes suspiciously narrowed. Kalystah didn’t know which was louder, her heart hammering out of her chest or her silent pleas that the Commander would move on. She put on her most enormous doe eyes, hoping they made her appear innocent. Usually, she wouldn’t care about being caught, but she didn’t usually have to worry about anyone else.

The seconds felt like hours until the Commander huffed out a stern warning about keeping better track of her things and strolled away. Kalystah let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding as she sat on the bed. The thought of “that was too easy” crossed her mind before she forced the idea out of her mind. He would have followed through if the Commander indeed questioned Kalystah’s actions. More than likely, Kalystah had imagined the tension in the room and reacted crazily.

Kalystah started to pace the floor, mockingly mumbling under her breath. “God, Kalystah, you probably sounded crazy for no good reason. No, sir, I wasn’t doing anything suspicious. I was just looking for this random sock that was obviously not under the bed, not hiding anything that could lead to your complete and utter ruin.”

“Please. Tell me. I didn’t just. Hear that,” screeched out a recognizable voice. Kalystah winced before turning, knowing that her best friend’s face would be pinched with disappointment. Cosette was in the doorway, eyes furrowed and mouth parted as if trying to leak her disappointment in the air.

“Bryce. Tell me I didn’t just hear you say you were hiding something bad under your bed?”

Kalystah was caught between a rock and a hard place. She had to deny hiding something; she and her mother’s lives were at risk if those pictures and messages came out. But she knew that Cosette heard her and could just as quickly look for them when she wasn’t in the room.

“Cosette, what are you doing here?” God, Kalystah’s smile felt fake and painful. “You just missed the idiot moment I had earlier,” a nervous laugh bubbled, “you see, I, umm….”

Cosette swiftly interrupted, “Uh, uh. You are not going to just bypass my question.”

Kalystah’s eyes shifted back and forth as she tried to divert Cosette’s attention. “You asked a question?”

“Bryce,” Cosette growled. Kalystah sighed loudly; she wouldn’t be able to hide this. But at least it was Cosette because she had proven she could be more than trusted. How often had Cosette found Kalystah breaking the house rules and not told the Commander? How many secrets had they traded with each other? Cosette could be trusted with this.

“Cosette. What I’m about to show you could kill, not only me, but also my mother. You would also be putting yourself at risk. You have to promise, no, vow, that you will never tell anyone about this.”

Cosette could see that her friend was serious and frightened. “Of course. I promise.”

Kalystah hesitated before going back underneath her bed. “Watch the door. Crappy would be an understatement if the Commander caught me with this.” Her hands shook as she went through a process she had gone through so many times. Kalystah tried to calm herself as she popped the board to grab the envelope, but they continued to tremble as she pulled out the pictures and handed them to Cosette.

“These are some beautiful pictures. Did your mom take them?”

“She did, but it’s not why I love them or why they’re so dangerous.” Kalystah flipped one of the photographs, revealing her mother’s almost illegible writing. She watched Cosette’s eyes scanning the words, trying to make sense of them.

“I hate to tell you, Bryce, but it’s all Greek to me.” A smile curled on Cosette’s face, and her pupils twinkled with humor.

Kalystah was not amused as she joked, “ha, ha. Very original.” Cosette smirked back before turning her attention back to the messages. “Seriously. What do they say?”

With that, the floodgates were opened. Kalystah spent the next hour paraphrasing everything and colorfully telling Cosette about her mother’s seemingly traitorous words. As Kalystah repeated her most deeply ingrained secrets, she pondered how unreasonable it was that the world worked this way. Those who lived in the house didn’t deserve this life where they only heard ‘ugly’ and ‘hideous’ concerning their appearances. And Kalystah silently resolved to do what she could to change that, no matter the risk to herself.

Because screw what this world thought. And screw her fear. Kalystah’s anger was burning through her fear and Kapulti’s restrictions. The Kapulti would have to physically muzzle her to prevent her contradictory message from being screamed out for everyone to hear. Even then, Kalystah’s flickering revolutionary light would burn this world to the ground.

A long week passed, and Kalystah was feeling at an all-time high. Things felt better, or so she thought.

Kalystah was fulfilling her mundane assignment of scrubbing down her substantially clean room when the Commander stepped, tracking in nature on her spotless floor. Biting back the urge to shout, Kalystah glared at the starchy uniformed gentlemen before attempting to go around him to gather cleaning supplies. The Commander’s arm shot out, blocking Kalystah’s only door to imagined freedom.

“Um, sir. I need to go and grab some supplies to clean up the floor. It suddenly seems dirty,” Kalystah commented passive-aggressively. When the Commander didn’t drop his arm, she tilted her head. “Sir,” she motioned to the door while pointing to his shoes, “I need to clean up the dirt.”

The Commander’s voice boomed, “you are not leaving here, Miss Bryce.” Before Kalystah could argue, four Commanders and an unknown woman marched in. The Commanders flanked Kalystah, further blocking any chance at escape.

Kalystah’s heart started to race; the only times she heard about multiple Commanders coming to a house was to deliver the worst punishment or the worst news ever. Considering Kalystah was pretty sure she hadn’t been caught doing anything warranting a significant sentence, all Kalystah could think about was her mother dying.

“What is going on? Is it my mom?” No one answered her. “Can someone tell me what the–” The house Commander left his position to bend down beside the bed. Her eyes widened as she watched the Commander removing the loose board and pulling out the envelope.

Her heart dropped to her toes. How did they find out? The only time they came out was a week ago. Did the Commander overhear Cosette, and they didn’t realize it? Oh God, Cosette. What did they do to her?

The mysterious, raven-haired woman grabbed the pictures from the house Commander. Her inquisitive eyes narrowed in understanding as they flew across the multiple messages. Finally, after what felt like hours, she spoke.

“Bryce. I am Desdemona. I’m sure you know our introduction spells misfortune for you.” Her piercing eyes looked Kalystah up and down, determined to make Kalystah feel small, weak, and terrified, as a Tainted should feel. Kalystah, though she was internally shaking, was just as resolved not to give this woman the satisfaction.

Kalystah stared at Desdemona before demanding, “what rank are you?” Kalystah didn’t even see the hand rushing toward her face. In fact, she didn’t even register the slap until she felt the sting radiating on her right cheek. Kalystah fought the urge to cry and cover the reddening handprint. A Commander forcefully grabbed Kalystah’s face, their nails digging deeply.

“If you had any common sense in that puny brain, you would use it and keep your mouth shut, Tainted.” Spit purposely flew out and landed on Kalystah’s face. Desdemona wouldn’t let this woman think she could stand up to the likes of her. “I am a Leader, and you will stay silent until I tell you otherwise.”

If announcing her rank was supposed to strike fear into the Tainted’s heart, it didn’t appear to work. Kalystah wiped the spittle from her face before, self-admittedly stupidly, opening her mouth. “You are telling the wrong person to shut up. Unlike your Commanders, I don’t follow orders very well.”

Smack! The Commander’s hand flew across Kalystah’s other cheek with such force that her head whipped to the side. Her subconscious screamed for justice; how dare they slap us again?! If Kalystah’s anger was only flickering before, it was blazing now. Of course, she knew that she was being somewhat provocative, but Kalystah felt that didn’t warrant being slapped around like a rag doll. Disobedient dogs were treated better than she was right now.

Kalystah’s fury wasn’t the only one that was flaring. Desdemona’s was too, but unlike the untrained nature of a Tainted, Desdemona had to keep her rage under control. Allowing the slapping was already over the line, but the higher ranks had never dealt with such an insubordinate Tainted. Any of the others she had to be in the presence of cowered at the sight of her. Terror froze their vocal cords to the point they had to be ordered to speak.

Desdemona’s chest heaved as she struggled to calm herself. Ten seconds passed, then thirty. After motioning for Kalystah to sit on the edge of the bed, Desdemona observed, “you’re quite defiant for a Tainted.”

“I’m defiant for a person,” Kalystah shot back.

Desdemona ignored Kalystah and carried on with her assignment. “We were informed about the nature of these photographs. There is traitorous propaganda written on the back.”

“It’s only considered traitorous because it doesn’t meet your unnecessary, restrictive, small-minded ideas of beauty. And then, you took those ideas and warped everyone else’s brains to the point that everyone is high and mighty unless you’re a Maskie or Tainted.” Kalystah stood up and slowly approached Desdemona, knowing she should shut up, but she was done. So many like her and her mother had been demeaned and treated less than human for too long. Kalystah felt deep in her bones that she would die today; if that was true, she would leave her mark the only way she knew how. The way she had been taught.

“And us Maskies and Tainteds are only taught to despise ourselves, to nitpick and destroy ourselves because the rest of you can’t handle us feeling anything but misery and self-hatred.” Kalystah could hear the restrained chuckles from the Commanders around her, but she didn’t care. They weren’t going to keep her down anymore; the floodgates were up, and everything she held back was coming out now. Kalystah stood tall like the fabled sycamore trees, unmoving and steady.

Desdemona was impressed, though she didn’t show it. Never had she met a Tainted like this, so strong. This Tainted was determined to remain dignified in the face of the coming punishment. It almost made Desdemona weaken her resolve.

“It is amusing to see a Tainted play at being something they are not, isn’t it?” Desdemona questioned mockingly. Kalystah didn’t waver until a familiar voice snapped, “now you realize what a pain it is to live with someone like her, Leader?”

The color drained from Kalystah's face as Cosette, the woman she had been best friends with since they were four, walked into the room in a freshly pressed Commander’s uniform. That wasn’t the only thing Kalystah noticed was different; Cosette’s eyes were the same color.

Everything clicked into place. The house Commander didn’t have to investigate Kalystah’s room last week; Cosette used their perceived friendship to manipulate Kalystah into revealing the truth. “Cosette, you’re, you’re–”

An evil grin grew on Cosette’s usually friendly face. “An undercover Commander-in-training. And despite your so-called intelligence, you never figured it out. Pathetic Tainted.”

Kalystah shook with uncontrollable rage as hot tears ran down her face. “You lied to me! I thought you were my friend!”

“I was never your friend! You were nothing but an assignment! The last assignment to finally earned me the position of a Commander!” Cosette laughed before continuing. “You Tainteds are so gullible. You believe only what’s in front of you. I only had to wear a colored contact, and all of you thought I was one of you disgusting creatures. None of you even questioned why I wasn’t a Maskie.”

Kalystah couldn’t look at this woman anymore. She had laughed with her and poured her heart to Cosette, only to find out it was all a stepping stone. Now, it was clear how much Cosette hid from here. It wasn’t just because Cosette lied about her rank; the abrupt change in her personality was like Jekyll and Hyde. Kalystah focused her attention on Desdemona. “Why investigate? I deserve that much, don’t I?”

In a moment of weakness, Desdemona responded, “your birth name. Although you were born with freckles, your mother gave you a name that literally means ‘my beautiful’.” Catching herself, Desdemona stopped herself, but Kalystah knew what she would say. Freckles were considered ugly and meant only to be covered; to think otherwise was a mistake. Being named Kalystah was like laughing at the Kapulti’s ideals.

Desdemona allowed pity to creep in but quickly shoved it down. Presenting an opaque black bag to one of the Commanders, she gave the order, “House Commander, hood her and bring the Tainted to the center room. It’s time.”

The fifty steps from Kalystah’s room felt heavy, like her shoes were made of cement blocks. While she kept a facade of strength outside, inside, she was a little girl who wanted to run and hide. The hood took away her sight but heightened her hearing so she could listen in on her housemates’ whispered conversations.

She felt everyone’s presence in the small room before she heard them. The tension thickened with every second, but Kalystah would not let it choke her. The Leader still hadn’t told her what her sentence would be, but Kalystah was going to make sure they regretted it. Unbeknownst to everyone, this punishment would only create a martyr. It would fuel her internal blaze and, hopefully, light a spark in everyone else.

Once the group of Commanders and Kalystah reached the center of the cramped room, the dark hood was snatched from her head. Kalystah’s eyes squinted in the dimmed space, her eyes adjusting to the difference in light. She could hear people questioning what was happening, especially why Cosette was in a Commander’s uniform.

Desdemona addressed the packed crowd, “for two decades, this woman has been investigated due to the nature of her birth name. Our investigation has produced the following: this woman threatens our society. She has deluded herself into thinking that she can break the most sacred of our laws without consequence. For the possession of mind-warping propaganda and the intent of spreading her so-called message to others, she must be made an example of.”

Kalystah began to laugh hysterically, creating a wave of concerned and confused gossip amongst the group. “I have done nothing wrong except choose what I define as beauty for myself. You and your laws just can’t handle someone thinking well of themselves when you and so many others have made it your mission to ensure we only loathe ourselves.”

She looked at her fellow Tainteds, unfaltering. “Aren’t you tired?! Hundreds of years ago, people craved our so-called defects before this garbage! It never should’ve changed!” Though her housemates didn’t respond verbally, Kalystah could see those in front shaking their heads in agreement.

Fearing she would lose control of the crowd, Desdemona commanded the Commanders, “get her under control now.” Hands grabbed onto Kalystah, trying to force her onto her knees, hoping to humiliate her to silence. Kalystah wasn’t going to be deterred as she fought them. Cosette smiled wickedly as she wanked her former companion back by her hair. The pinch from the pull made Kalystah subtly grimace, feeding Cosette’s true and sadistic nature. ‘Tainteds should always bow.” The crowd became unruly, protesting Kalystah’s treatment at the hands of Cosette.

“Hands off, Commander!” boomed Desdemona. When Cosette only gripped harder, Desdemona motioned to an unnamed subordinate, who ripped the hand and some of Kalystah’s curls from her scalp. “Commander Cosette, you are out of line! Control yourself before you become an embarrassment to yourself and the Leadership!”

Kalystah glared at Cosette and said, “you may have me on my knees, but I will never willingly bow, especially to the likes of you.” How did this maniac hide her true self for so long?

“You will; once you suffer by my hand, you will,” Cosette bent down to Kalystah’s eye level. “I can’t wait to torture and disgrace you.” Kalystah saw the movement of a hooded person being shoved through the parted crowd and falling behind Cosette’s feet.

Desdemona gently moved Kalystah to the side while Cosette shoved the nearly prone body to where Kalystah was. Out of instinct, Kalystah reached out protectively but was held back. The person seemed familiar, but Kalystah couldn’t place why, with the chaos overwhelming her senses. As if she could read Kalystah’s mind, Cosette ripped the bag off, revealing Kalystah’s battered and bruised mother. Everyone except those of a higher rank gasped at the brutality.

This wasn’t just a punishment anymore; the Kapulti was going to use Kalystah and her mother as a lesson: don’t bother thinking you are beautiful when the world says you aren’t. Fall in line or suffer.

Cosette gleefully and openly mocked Kalystah’s angered and heartbroken expression while Desdemona agonizingly watched. It was painfully clear now that while Desdemona held the position of Leader, she wasn’t in charge. This was going too far by her standards, but Desdemona’s unbreakable training forced her to see it through, no matter how much she didn’t want to.

Pulling out a gun, Cosette pointed it at Kalystah’s barely conscious mother. The Leader shakingly let out a breath as she informed all of Kalystah’s punishment. “As all of you know, a sentence of this stature is tailored to the recipient and the crime. For her crimes, this woman’s mother must,” she stopped. Desdemona couldn’t say it; it was too horrible.

Cosette finished for her. “Die.” Outrage and shouts of protest erupted from the frenzied group. While all were distracted, Kalystah’s mother whispered, “don’t let them win, my Kalystah.”

“Mom, they’ll kill you,” Kalystah sobbed, “I need you.”

Her teary-eyed mother replied, “I am a part of you. So, rise and make sure they know the daughter I raised.”

With renewed strength, Kalystah mouthed to her mother, “I love you.” before raising her voice. “Kalystah.”

All turned to her. “What did you say, Bryce?” growled Cosette.

“My name is not Bryce; it is Kalystah! It means ‘my beautiful’ in Greek. You of a higher rank may think I didn’t deserve such a name, but you were wrong. Despite what you say, we all deserve to be considered beautiful and handsome. Beauty. Is. For. All!” Everyone began to chant Kalystah’s final words in unison.

Kalystah pushed herself up and stared at Cosette. “And know when you pull that trigger, you aren’t going to end this. You will only be giving another reason for things to change. A revolution always starts with a gunshot and a sacrifice.”

Her mother’s smile grew despite her pain. Desdemona gave the order for the Commanders to stand down; there were no other options. In these circumstances, killing a Maskie or Tainted would only jumpstart a civil war between the ranks. Desdemona may be a part of the Leadership, but she didn’t have the stomach or desire to be this cruel.

All the Commanders listened except Cosette. “The others may be too weak to do what needs to be done, but I’m not.” With that, Cosette aimed her gun at her target and pulled the trigger.

“Flowers that are offered for the dead, do not know the difference of where their beauty will be placed, they do not say, "This is not a palace" or "This is not a garden"; they just are. They are just beautiful, without giving regards to whether they are placed on a grave or in a castle. Flowers are just beautiful, whether they grow by the wayside or in a manicured garden. If we were all like flowers, then we would all be beautiful, with no regards to why or how. We just are. We are just beautiful.” – C. JoyBell. C.