The Island

Look. Say what you want, but us rich girls have class.

Sometimes. Okay, not at all. That’s a lie. But we are really, really well taught about how to pretend to have class. And that’s what counts. Right?

Running the brush through my waist long auburn hair, I couldn’t help but admire the shiny strands. I loved my hair. Call me vain if you want, but I really did love it. I could spend hours just brushing and styling, washing and treating, caring for the long silky strands. Maybe because they were a curtain. Maybe because because they were my only redeeming quality.

Getting up from my dressing table, I finished getting dressed. The loose white pants and blank tank top said, “casual, cool, calm”, with the white sneakers, and my usual gold hoops and three layered necklace.

I touched up my mascara and lip gloss, opting for less makeup than I would usually wear. Swiping my tickets from the dressing table, I grabbed my handbag, and pressed the bell near my door to let Gerard, the butler, know that he could take my bags down to the car.

It wasn’t a long drive to the gates, but I wanted to make sure everything went smoothly. I had been waiting two years for my change to get onto the Island, and I was thrilled. Mostly. Okay, not really. But I was looking forward to cocktails and escaping my parents for two whole weeks of unchaperoned bliss.

Young girls were not allowed to go out on their own, you see. So I was always accompanied by either my father or brothers, or worst case body guard Tom. He was a pain in the arse for sure. I swear sometimes he could read my mind. But, he had been with me since I was born, so I couldn’t hardly hate the man. He was more of a father than well, my father.

I walked down the hallway, by sneakers firm but soft on the hardwood floor. Not many people had hardwood floors in Intiana. The world had never really recovered from world war three, and Intiana was one of the few places left that had any kind of world order. But, that meant we had also been pushed back into a time where women had very little say in what they did, and their safety was at risk constantly. It was a dangerous world for women, and men were our safety blanket.

I was lucky compared to a lot of my girl friends. Some of their fathers and brothers were abusive, or demeaning. Whilst my Father was strict, and kept me under close watch, he never raised a hand to me, and taught my brothers that women were to be cherished, loved and protected at all costs. It was a little infuriating sometimes, but, in the end I would rather be infuriated by protection, than destroyed by abuse.

“Miss, are you ready?” Gerard’s stern voice brought my mind to the moment, as I reached the bottom of the stairs. I glanced around the house, realising then just how strange this was. The Island was open to the young people of Intiana once each year. Usually, only the elders or government officials attended. But, once a year, for two weeks a select group of young people aged 18 and above were allowed to go, unchaperoned. Of course, the Island staff provided chaperones for everyone on arrival, to avoid any problems. However, it was the one chance each year where we got the chance to explore who we were before being sorted into our categories for adulthood and training for careers.

Each of us would be given 4 options in the next few months, being that we had recently turned 18. Those 4 options would be placed into a lottery and we would be given career options to train for.

Our experience and education to date, as well as our family standing within the community, dictated what options we could select from. As my father was a senior government official, and my brothers were all doctors, I would be given preferences associated to that. As a woman, I would be allowed the option to choose from careers such as nurse, nursemaid, surrogate or mother. I may also become a doctor or surgeon, if I were shown to be infertile or unable to do the other tasks for any reason. A government official, was also an option. However, I would inly be allowed into that stream after age 38. So, in the 10 years prior I would be able to raise my children and support my husband.

I was excited. My whole life I had been waiting for the opportunity to become a mother. To meet the man who would support and guide our children with me. And the man who I could support and serve in our community. I just hoped I would be lucky enough to be chosen by someone similar to my father and brothers. My mother, and my brothers wives, were all happy and content, loved and cherished as they should be. When I saw them each month, they were content and happy, kind and calm. I couldn’t wait to join them.

But, first, I was allowed to go the Island. I couldn’t believe it! This was the day I had waited for. There would be 20 of us in my group, and so far only two people I knew from school. The rest were a mystery. 5 of them were from the lottery, meaning they had entered their names and could be from anywhere, including the lower classes of Intiana. Everyone was able to try for a trip to the Island once.

I couldn’t help scrunching my nose at the thought of those from the lower classes, who had no toilets or showers, and lived in shanties. I didn’t understand why the men had allowed this to happen to their families. It didn’t make sense, when there were so many jobs and houses available, empty, for people who were just willing to put in the work.

But, as Father says, some people just aren’t willing to put in the work. People wanted to choose everything they did. They wanted to have a say in every piece of what they do, their careers, where they live, who they marry and raise children with. They want to be able to choose every minute and every aspect, of their life. And that just wasn’t a road to success in Intiana. We had learned from the mistakes of the past, and weren’t interested in going backwards.

“Let’s go, Gerard.” I said, smiling gently as I walked toward the double doors. I stopped just before them, waiting for Gerard to open them.

We stepped through the into the foyer, where Gerard helped me into my long black jacket, with black gloves. I turned to the wall where our oxygen supply was, as well as the shelf with chutes which held our medications and vitamins.

When World War III happened, the atmosphere around earth was badly damaged. Luckily, science led the way, and we were able to develop medication that helped us fight the pollution in the air, and not have our lifespan shortened by going outside.

Taking my medication, I quickly swallowed some water, and stepped to the front doors. I followed Gerard outside, where the doorman opened the car door for me as Gerard put the bags in the car.

I didn’t know it at the time, but this would be one of the last times someone opened a door for me.

And the last time I had bags to pack too.