Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
“They’re going to make you compliant, obedient, and useful,” I tell her. “Should be a novel experience for you.”
In spite of everything, there is a small part of me that feels sorry for her. It’s a very small part. I should never have let her come with us that day Malik defected. I should have left her at home to become the scheming, conniving Elite bride she was born to be. She would have made some factory owner terribly unhappy.
“Shah! Just tell me why! You want stupid and compliant? Will you want me once they scramble my brains? Is that it? You can only get hard if you fuck a brainless idiot?”
“I want loving and giving,” I tell her. “I want brave and selfless. I do not want a plotting, scheming liability who tried to have me killed, and who did get my friends killed. You deserve this Zeki. Now get in the fucking chair.”
Zeki’s eyes are venomous. “Fine,” she spits. “I’ll get in the fucking chair. But this won’t work. I’m stronger than you. You’re weak, Shah. You’re a pathetic…”
“Can we gag her?”
We can, and we do.
14
Dreamy
I am walking to work. It is morning, and I am a good worker, moving with a steady stream of other good workers. We file through the streets, breaking off into columns at various buildings. I go into the box factory with my cohort. From there, we split up again, lines of us going to various stations. This is all how it should be. Pleasingly orderly. Absolutely correct. I am part of this bigness, and it is all I need to satisfy me.
I…
What?
I…
Huh.
There is someone at my station, someone folding box corners with great efficiency. I am momentarily confused. My room unlocked at 5:46 am. I arrived here, at work, in time to start my 6:00 am shift. But there is already someone doing my 6:00 am shift. Someone who looks a lot like me. A girl with brown hair and dark eyes.
“Excuse me,” I say, tapping her shoulder.
She doesn’t turn around. She can’t. To fold a thousand boxes an hour, you cannot take even a single break.
I stand, confused, until 6:07 am. Nobody comes to say anything to me. It is as though I don’t exist at all. My role is filled, my space is claimed. I am obsolete. The thought gives me a headache. I am a good worker. This is my role. My job. But it is not my role. My job. I feel my thoughts starting to curl around on each other in confusion. I don’t know what to do.
A voice I do not know speaks inside me. Follow your instincts.
What a nice thought. I wonder what instincts are.
I walk out of the factory. I should return to my room. Instead, I turn toward the docks. I don’t know why. At this time of the morning, there are many workers thronging the streets. I blend in among the gray and beige smocks until I leave the last monitored point and keep walking. I am out of bounds. Someone should be trying to stop me. But I am also not out of bounds. I am at my desk. I am doing my job. Someone who is not me has become me. That was nice of them.
The water at the docks is blue today, sparkling with sun. I stand at the edge of the sea wall for what feels like a long time, though it is probably only a few minutes.
A big, heavy, muscular arm drapes itself around my neck. I look up to see a tall, broad, handsome man smiling down at me with the light of love in his eye. I do not know why he is so happy to see me, but it is impossible not to feel joy when looked at in such a way. I am accustomed to blank stares that go through me and find the wall behind me. This is a look of care that finds the core of me and wraps around me and makes me cozy in the early morning sun.
“Hello, Dreamy,” he says. “You’re right where you should be.”
I smile at him. I have no idea what that means, but it feels nice to hear. He does seem to have been either waiting for me or looking for me. Either one of those options is very flattering.
“I’m Shah,” he says. “Do you remember me?”
I shake my head. “I think I’d like to, but I don’t.”
His face falls slightly. I have disappointed him, and I feel a pang of sadness at having done that. He seemed so happy to see me. And here I am, not having the foggiest idea who he is.
“You’re mine,” Shah says sternly. “I know that you don’t remember a lot of what happened prior to this point, but I need you to understand, Dreamy, that you belong to me. The things I’ve done to claim you are… well…”