NaNoWriMo - The Beginning

I've just recently found out about National Novel Writing Month and immediately, I knew I had to be a part of it. The campaign brings authors, both budding and established, from all of the world to write furiously for a month together. The problem I find when writing is that, since I never have a deadline, I often find myself doing other things instead. Sometimes, those gaps can span months and months, and by the time I remember my little project, I'll have thought of something new to start and subsequently forget about.

This is where NaNoWriMo comes in. I'm going try my very best to write and post as many updates as I can. Keep up with my word count progress here. I would love for anyone who reads this to give me feedback, positive and negative alike, so hopefully I can improve as a writer. (Keep the criticism constructive, please. I'm a sensitive soul.)

I may be cheating slightly, using an idea I had already started on a while ago, but whatever. I won't tell if you don't.

So here it is, the first chapter(ish) of Encounter, a YA dystopian fiction following a young girl named Lyla.

Enjoy! (I hope)

For too many years I have allowed myself to believe that there is something greater than the life I have been permitted. I have wondered and dreamed and fantasised about all the possibilities, the maybes, the could-have-beens. Today that all stops. Today I become a woman.

  I live in a world where everything is black and white, everything that is taken seriously anyway. For too long I have been drenched in colour, soaked in the creativity of childhood. On my 18th birthday, I will join the rest of the soon to be adults from my sleepy little town and travel to the capital city, where our futures await.

  Walking downstairs, I let my fingers run across the blank, white wall. It feels as everything in this house does, crisp and cool. No family portraits hang around our home, just pictures of large squares and lines in symmetrical and parallel patterns. No colour, just monochrome. The way it should be.

 My little sister sticks out from a mile away, playing with her greyscale building blocks in a bright red onesie on the plush white rug. She stacks them one on top of each other in a random order, laughing to herself as she knocks them down and builds them back up in another pattern.

 I look down at my own clothes, slightly embarrassed that they are still coloured. I’ve tried to remain as muted as possible, with a cream blouse and dark navy trousers. I cannot wait to discard the chaotic colours of childhood and embrace the simplicity that is adulthood.

 My mother frowns at her, ‘Please, Lily, stop that.’ She kneels down next to the newly scattered pile of blocks and starts stacking them from darkest to lightest in a tall tower. ‘That’s better, just leave it that way.’

 Lily frowns at the perfection of it, and walks off to the kitchen in some kind of childish huff.

  ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do with that girl, all her teachers tell me that she is the most unruly and disorganised child they have ever taught. How can I have a daughter like her and a daughter like you at the same time?’ She smiles slightly at that last part and I know that she is proud of me.

 This is the most affectionate my parents ever get.. Younger children tend to crave the touch of other humans, clinging on to the legs of their mothers or trying to hold the hands of their fathers until they quickly learn that this is just not acceptable.

 We remain alone, so we can function together as a society.

  According to my parents, I was never like that as a child, I never cried or moaned or wouldn’t do what I was told. Good Lyla, sensible Lyla. That is who I have always been, who I am destined to continue being.  

  Of course, in my own mind, unbidden bursts of colour and imagination attack me. I remember sliding down rainbows, flying over purple mountains and diving into a pool of letters.

  But of course that is all ridiculous, I would never tell anybody about these thoughts or dreams. Some children, the Creatives, are taken away before their 18th birthdays for extensive treatment.

  I am worried about Lily, at nearly 4 years old she is still showing the bright signs of infancy. I worry that she will be taken away before her time, and bring shame upon the Lucas household.

  I go to the serving portal, scanning my finger on the cool, black service. On the screen in front of me appears my stats, height, weight, age, IQ, etc. Everything you could possibly want to know about me, and a few more numbers just for good measure.

  “Good morning, Ms. Lucas. I see your weight has increased since last month. Due to this, your portion size has been reduced by a quarter. Please, eat all of your meal and return the tray to the loading portal. Clarity be with you.” I blush slightly at the idea that I’ve gained weight as I take the metal tray and slide into my preferred seat at the table.

  I have been skipping a few training sessions lately, instead brushing up on my knowledge of Xenera and its history for my entrance exams to Encounter. My entire future rests on those exams, and I don’t intend to screw it up.  Still, I can’t really fall behind on my physical fitness either, every aspect of my life could be scrutinised by the Viewers, and the thought sends a cold shudder down my spine.

  Clarity, I tell myself. I force myself to have the last spoonful of pale, unappealing porridge before setting my mind to the day ahead.

  I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing, slowly letting my mind wander to a state of absolute nothingness. This is the bliss that Clarity brings us, no thoughts, no feelings, just calm. A lot of children struggle to have this control over their own minds before Encounter, but I have been able to do this for some years now and I am glad for it as I’m sure it will help me in my tests.

 Although no one truly knows what goes on before going through, there is of course wild speculation surrounding the tests and Encounter itself. That is what the minds of children do, they invent and wonder. I know for a fact that whatever happens in the programme, it takes away these types of thoughts for good. I am also fairly certain there is no wildlife survival test as suggested by Samuel Ski, or Luke Lee’s idea of having to learn to move objects with your mind.

I personally try not to speculate, such things are better left unknown. Just making sure I am as prepared for anything that could come my way is all I can do, and all I have done. I focus on nothing.

  Unbidden, an image of my best friend Marcus swims up in my minds’ eye, his eyes are filled with worry, a tumultuous grey storm swirling around the black abyss of his pupils. I snap myself out of the vision, shaking my head and blinking in the light. Still shaky with the feeling of panic from sight of Marcus so troubled, I push myself away from the table, trying to focus on the task of just putting the metal meal tray on the portal. Tentatively, I touch my finger to the scanner once again, letting to the familiar process soothe my nerves.

  “We have detected a slight arrhythmia in your pulse, Ms. Lucas. Is everything alright?” The voice chimes, an unsettling balance between robotic and human tones.

  “Yes, I am fine, thank you for your concern.” I say, willing myself back to the state of Clarity.

  Mercifully, it worked. The portal opened to envelop the tray. “Very well. Thank you for co-operation. Clarity be with you.”

  As soon as the screen turned blank, I heaved a heavy sigh of relief, it is not always easy to remain placid.

 Still worried about the image of Marcus, I was eager to go and see him before our session began. We were lucky in the fact that our birthdays both lay within the same month, meaning we got to experience Encounter together. For years he has been the only person I could confide my innermost thoughts to. He was the only person who I would allow myself to dream with.

  Often we would talk about the possibility of being placed in the same city together, perhaps even working alongside one another. Me, as an Analyst and Marcus as a Councillor. Both well respected jobs that would see us working together in the Xenera Institute for Research.

  Finally the day has come for us to see whether these dreams will come true and I need to talk to him one last time before everything changes.

  Donning a light jacket, I prepare to head out of the door.

  “Lyla?” A voice came from behind me.

  “Dad?”

  “Isn’t today your test?”

  “Yes. I’m just going now to make sure I get there on time.” Although I didn’t often feel the need to lie to my parents, it was done easily, as they seemed to take everything at face value.

  “Good luck.,” He says, resting  his hand on my shoulder. “And Clarity be with you.” This affection from my father is so unusual, it unsettles me. I look at him truly for the first time in what must be years.

  His black hair is beginning to fade to grey around the temples, but the signs of aging do not reach his face. He stares back at me with fierce blue eyes, a slight crease above his eyebrows, as if he is straining to communicate something with me.

  What that may be, I do not know.

 I smile at him, trying to politely indicate that I need to leave, and he takes his hand from my shoulder. With that, I walk from my small house on Lane 7 for what may be the last time.