I stare at the girl in front of me. Her hair is long and brown; her eyes are a soft blue. She fusses with the elegant dress draped over her shoulders and stares blankly ahead.
I wonder when I stopped recognizing my own face in the mirror.
Turning around, I pick up the skirt of my dress and make my way across the room. I still don’t understand why I need this much space filled with useless materialistic gifts while there are people on the other side that don’t even have the luxury of a cardboard box. I gaze through my window, the split between chaos and order coming into view. I can’t say I’m fascinated with life on the other side. I am grateful for my own situation, of course, but there has to be more than diamonds, pearls and fancy cars.
“Oh dear, is that Ms. Rose Marie Riverdale? Do my eyes deceive me? I must be blinded by your beauty, darling. Just stunning.”
I turn around, a small smile gracing my features as I make eye contact with my best friend, the only one I can trust.
“Oh stop, Louis. Look who’s talking.”
He flips invisible hair dramatically, fluttering his eyelashes while I laugh. His face turns serious once the amusement subsides, the intensity of tonight adding to the weight already on both of our shoulders.
“You’ll be fine, Rosie. I promise. You’ve been trained well, you look beautiful, they’ll eat you up. You’re a shoe in.”
I try to smile but I’m sure it looks like a grimace. This night can make or break my future. This night determines which side I am a part of.
“Let’s just go downstairs, yeah?”
Louis and I link arms and head toward the bedroom door. He opens it for me and I nod with gratitude, both of us knowing how to put on a show for the cameras by now. My eyes flick to the little black bud on the ceiling before I’m lead through the door, wondering when I would ever get used to being constantly observed.

  *  *  *  *  *

Lights reflect off of crystal wine glasses and chandeliers. Fifty men form an arc around the center of the ballroom, laughing while devouring their five star meals. Eleven of us are lined up side-by-side, all powdered in white and draped with jewels.
Eight boys, three girls.
We patiently wait for the event to begin. I stand perfectly still, observing the nervous ticks of the boys and girls surrounding me. Three down from me won’t stop tapping his toe; the girl who sat next to me in third grade is cracking her fingers behind her back. I send Louis a sideways glance and a reassuring smile only he can see. He gently squeezes my arm before letting his hand fall back at his side.
“If I may have your attention, the ceremony will start shortly. Please find your seats if you haven’t already.”
My attention is brought to a tall man holding a microphone. His gray hair is slicked back with gel and he sports a confident smile. His eyes scan the room before landing on the eleven of us, brown orbs dissecting us one by one. My cheeks burn when his eyes meet mine, forcing me to look away.
“Today, as you all know, is the forty sixth annual initiation trial. These young adults before you have proved that they are capable and willing to become the future of this establishment. They will lead with honor and devotion to the time and effort we have spent over the years developing this system.”
Glasses clink and ring, hands clap together and feet stomp. The room is filled with shouts of joy and encouragement, but all I can focus on is the camera in the center of the commotion. This performance is streaming live to everyone at home, both north and south of the fence.
“Help me in welcoming this years contestants and wish them luck in their final stage of initiation tomorrow morning.”
All eyes land on us and the cheering continues. My heart races as I see the first girl in line make her way to the podium. Her name is Julia, I think. She was always shy, I remember, and it was definitely showing now with her shaky hands and wide doe eyes. The room falls silent as she clears her throat, pulling out a small piece of paper to begin her speech.
We file through the line, each one of us preaching about a better future with our “plans” to extend Southern territory and diminish areas North of the fence. Some of the men hoorah, some just clap. I stay silent, and so does Louis.
My heart beats out of my chest when it is Louis’ turn to go up to the podium. The room falls silent once again and I catch his eye, sending him a nod for support. He takes a deep breath and pulls out a stack of notecards, organizing them before looking directly at the camera.
“It is quite the honor to be nominated for a position in this establishment. To start, I would like to propose my ten-year plan for a bright future…”
Louis looks down at his cards again, taking a long pause before looking back up. Something changes in his demeanor but I can’t quite make out what it is. He sets the stack of cards to the side, casually leaning his elbows on the podium and analyzing the people in front of him. The men shift uncomfortably, obviously confused by his sudden change in formality.
“Gentlemen, I would call you fools but that would be disrespectful.”
Time is still, my heart stops.
Gasps, outbursts, scuffing chairs and angry faces. A gasp chokes me and I am in full panic mode. Louis catches my eye, a look of reassurance and trust showing in his expression before he turns back to the row of gentlemen. He tries to calm them but gives up and starts again, his voice booming around the auditorium from the small microphone on the podium.
“Do you really believe anything any of us are telling you? Do you honestly believe we have a real plan for the future of this establishment? How could you possibly believe that I am willing to give up my life, my freedom, to work under your rules and regulations? You’d think the men running our government would be smarter than that, wouldn’t you?”
I stare at him in disbelief but his confidence doesn’t falter. It’s almost like he’s waiting for them to do something, like he’s anticipating a fight.
Some men call from the back for security, others are still frozen with surprise. I don’t snap out of my daze until I see three men in black rushing to the front and Louis’ fear finally shining through. They grab him by the collar, hauling him to the back of the auditorium.
“There will be a revolution, just you wait!”
A shrill cry rips through my throat and as I try desperately to move but I can’t. He’s not resisting, how is he not resisting? I try again to move but end up collapsing to my knees, my body trembling with every aching breath I take. He won’t return; they’ll make sure he never returns.
“Rose Marie Riverdale? You’re up next, dear.”
I try to pull myself together, standing and slightly swaying from the weight of the loss of my friend. All eyes are on me when I finally look up, unfazed and expecting. I make my way to the podium and surprise myself by the hatred I feel for every being in this room. I glare at every one of them as I clear my throat, open my mouth, and start my speech.
“It is hard to put into words how honored I am to be standing in this room with our founders today…”

  *  *  *  *  *

I lose count after my third hour of crying. My eyes are swollen and red, my lips are chapped, my head is aching and I miss Louis. I know what it means when you’re taken from the auditorium; I know what the men in black do and where they take people. I know that the odds of saving those people are close to none and I know I will never see Louis again.
A new wave of emotion hits me. Not sadness, anger. Rage, fury, hatred. I hate the establishment; I hate the South. I hate anyone or anything that took Louis away from me. I hate order and regulation and rules and obligations. I don’t belong here; I’ve never belonged here.
Before I know what I’m doing I’m out of bed, reaching for anything my hand can touch and shoving it in a duffle bag. Some old pictures, a journal, my favorite books…
There’s a knock on my door and I freeze, dropping my belongings and running to bed. The door opens seconds after I pull my covers over my head and I hear footsteps enter my room. My heart is racing and my eyes are closed tightly. It must be the cameras, they saw me packing and are coming to take me away. It’s a man in black and he’s going to grab me by the collar and drag me to the back of the room. He’s going to torture me and throw me in a cell. Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll be close to Louis. Maybe we can yell to each other through the bars or even see each other.
The footsteps come closer and I try to steady my erratic breathing. A hand grasps the top of my duvet and gently pulls it down, exposing my shivering form to whoever has come for me.
“Rosie?”
My eyes snap open and I jolt up, not believing what I see before me. Louis is standing at the end of the bed, perfectly in tact aside from a mild cut on his forehead. I’m about to yell but he quickly shushes me, looking around the room for any surveillance. He squints at the camera in the upper right corner of the room and quickly grabs one of my shirts. He chucks it at the corner so it covers the camera and turns back to me. I try to speak again but he covers my mouth, motioning for me to sit at the end of my bed.
“How are you here?” I barely whisper when he removes his hand.
“We don’t have time to discuss that right now, Rose. We need to leave, now.”
“Leave, like actually leave?”
“Yes, please come with me. Let’s go to the other side.”
I can’t come up with a reason why I respond so quickly, maybe the fact that I know there are men in black coming to see why my camera is covered or maybe it is my newfound hatred for the establishment. All I know is that I am finally leaving. I’m finally free from this life I never considered to be a trap.
Louis helps me finish packing my duffle without mentioning the fact that it is already half-full. I keep taking glances at the camera, afraid the shirt will fall and afraid of the soldiers already on the way to my room for a checkup.
We zip the bag and Louis throws it over his shoulder, grabbing my hand and looking me in the eye.
“Are you ready?”
So many questions flood my mind but I know there’s no time for any of them. It’s now or never, live or die. I squeeze his hand and nod, taking one last look around at this prison I’ve grown up in.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready.”
We step hand in hand toward the door, finally crossing the threshold into a new life as a Northerner.