05-07-2023, 09:02 PM
Iletina Girls Juvenile Alternative Education Centre
PRESENT DAY
The more Jia thought about it, the less different this was to the Maytown Academy. They were not allowed to leave, kept on a strict routine, and punished for the slightest disobedience. In fact, with each passing day, Jia became more confident and less afraid. The same could not be said of the others. There was more crying at night than there had been in the first days now, with people missing their parents and their freedom.
Jia was used to being forcibly parted from her immediate family. Her grandmother did so when she locked Xia up for those ridiculous letters. And she was used to being locked up, after the whole Fleming cult fiasco. Plus, she was used to attending boarding school and this was hardly that different, except for the locks. She just had to remember to act like a normal Kerlian instead of a Daughter. Which was fine too; she’d done that at her Lauchenoirian school.
Once she’d adjusted to what was expected of her, she found it remarkably easy to pull it off. She knew what to say; and she’d been taught how to say it. No task they were given was too difficult for her, and aside from that first day, she’d managed to avoid punishment. Indeed, she’d been given an activity pass each other day. The activities, it turned out, were a choice of three things one could do after dinner, which changed based on the day of the week.
There was usually a sport, something creative, and something more relaxing. Today, for example, the options were: badminton, singing, or a movie that wasn’t just blatant propaganda. Jia, wanting the opportunity to run around instead of walking at a designated pace in her designated place in her designated line, chose badminton. The girl she played against first was a full head taller than her, but they were surprisingly evenly matched.
Okay, I’ll be fine, Jia thought as she lay down to sleep that night. I can pass their silly little exam easily. If this is about politics – Mum says this is always about politics – then I can cope with this until whenever the Council changes their mind. It’s not so bad. I’m fine.
*
Camille’s class were waiting for their grades on their propaganda essays. They all sat, fidgeting nervously. Each of them seemed to want a different outcome, according to conversations at lunch. Some of them wished for high marks so they could sit their exit exams soon, or for the rewards. One girl wanted a middling grade so she could “avoid going home for as long as possible”. The most rebellious of them wished to fail deliberately. Apparently being sent to the punishment cells was a status symbol.
“Stand up,” the teacher-guard said as she walked in, a pile of essays under her arm. She handed them out as she walked around the room. When she reached Camille, she passed her the paper which had a big red C at the top. Camille frowned at it. She was sure she’d regurgitated all the main propaganda points.
“All those who received an A, and have been here for over three months, line up at the door. You will be taken to sit exit examinations,” the teacher said and paused to allow the three girls to go and be led away by another woman. They did not give the inmates their names; they were expected to address everyone by “ma’am”.
“All those who received a B, or an A and have been here less than three months, line up next to column A. You will be taken for reward activities momentarily. All those who received a C, line up next to column B. You will be taken for dinner and then straight to your cells without activities,” Camille moved to desk column B (they were labelled), still confused and slightly upset.
“Those with a D, line up by the door. You will be taken to your cells without dinner,” she sneered at the group, one of whom had begun crying.
“Those with an E, report to room fourteen for punishment. Those with an F, you will be taken to the punishment cells for three days.”
Camille shuddered as six girls were led off to the punishment cells. They were, apparently, empty cells where one was kept in solitary, with only a bucket to pee in, and denied food. She did not want to see them in person. Room 14 was less bad; it was where they sent people to write lines, or recite things.
Her group was taken for dinner; more bland food, but at least they were given some. Those whose grades had been lower would be hungry tonight. Camille shuddered again. It was a reminder that this wasn’t just a boarding school or some propaganda-filled holiday club.
“I don’t understand, my essay contained all the points in the film collection,” Camille complained to another girl once she was seated.
“Yes, it did,” the teacher said from behind the pair. They both jumped. “And yet, I could tell you were merely reciting the points. You did not believe them. You are not here to memorise the role of the Matriarchy. You are here to understand and accept the role of the Matriarchy. Should you wish to be rewarded, and should you wish to leave here before your five years are finished, you must open your mind.”
Then she walked away, leaving Camille and the other girl staring after her. “She means let them brainwash you,” the other girl said.
“I got that, thanks,” Camille grumbled, sticking a chunk of some flavourless meat into her mouth and beginning to chew. This would not be as easy as she had imagined.
*
Carolyn Greenwood got an A on her essay. She was excited, thinking she would get to sit the exam. Imagine her disappointment when she was told she would have to wait three months! She sat in the rewards room, where they had pool tables, table tennis, and a bunch of old arcade games that couldn’t connect to anything, without doing anything. She didn’t want to socialise with these people! She wanted to go home.
Cass had gotten an F and been dragged away to solitary. According to some of the other women, she’d probably get a beating. That was, according to rumour, the difference between the Young Adult and Juvenile centres. Carolyn didn’t care. Cass, frankly, deserved it. No, staring at these dissidents, these traitors, getting to play games just because they wrote a good essay? Carolyn vowed that when she was Councillor Greenwood, she would have these places shut down. And turned into real prisons.
She had meant it when she told her mother that she would have rather spent a week being tortured in the Restricted Region. At least then it would be over by now. And she wouldn’t have to look at this nonsense! In fact, if she thought about it enough, she realised that her actions had been wrong and did deserve to be punished. But surely for breaking into the Patel Family torture dungeon, the RR was a more fitting punishment? She went over to a table where people were drawing in the activity room, and took it back to her seat with a pencil.
“Dear Councillor Patel,
I wish to humbly and sincerely apologise for my unacceptable actions last week…”
PRESENT DAY
The more Jia thought about it, the less different this was to the Maytown Academy. They were not allowed to leave, kept on a strict routine, and punished for the slightest disobedience. In fact, with each passing day, Jia became more confident and less afraid. The same could not be said of the others. There was more crying at night than there had been in the first days now, with people missing their parents and their freedom.
Jia was used to being forcibly parted from her immediate family. Her grandmother did so when she locked Xia up for those ridiculous letters. And she was used to being locked up, after the whole Fleming cult fiasco. Plus, she was used to attending boarding school and this was hardly that different, except for the locks. She just had to remember to act like a normal Kerlian instead of a Daughter. Which was fine too; she’d done that at her Lauchenoirian school.
Once she’d adjusted to what was expected of her, she found it remarkably easy to pull it off. She knew what to say; and she’d been taught how to say it. No task they were given was too difficult for her, and aside from that first day, she’d managed to avoid punishment. Indeed, she’d been given an activity pass each other day. The activities, it turned out, were a choice of three things one could do after dinner, which changed based on the day of the week.
There was usually a sport, something creative, and something more relaxing. Today, for example, the options were: badminton, singing, or a movie that wasn’t just blatant propaganda. Jia, wanting the opportunity to run around instead of walking at a designated pace in her designated place in her designated line, chose badminton. The girl she played against first was a full head taller than her, but they were surprisingly evenly matched.
Okay, I’ll be fine, Jia thought as she lay down to sleep that night. I can pass their silly little exam easily. If this is about politics – Mum says this is always about politics – then I can cope with this until whenever the Council changes their mind. It’s not so bad. I’m fine.
*
Camille’s class were waiting for their grades on their propaganda essays. They all sat, fidgeting nervously. Each of them seemed to want a different outcome, according to conversations at lunch. Some of them wished for high marks so they could sit their exit exams soon, or for the rewards. One girl wanted a middling grade so she could “avoid going home for as long as possible”. The most rebellious of them wished to fail deliberately. Apparently being sent to the punishment cells was a status symbol.
“Stand up,” the teacher-guard said as she walked in, a pile of essays under her arm. She handed them out as she walked around the room. When she reached Camille, she passed her the paper which had a big red C at the top. Camille frowned at it. She was sure she’d regurgitated all the main propaganda points.
“All those who received an A, and have been here for over three months, line up at the door. You will be taken to sit exit examinations,” the teacher said and paused to allow the three girls to go and be led away by another woman. They did not give the inmates their names; they were expected to address everyone by “ma’am”.
“All those who received a B, or an A and have been here less than three months, line up next to column A. You will be taken for reward activities momentarily. All those who received a C, line up next to column B. You will be taken for dinner and then straight to your cells without activities,” Camille moved to desk column B (they were labelled), still confused and slightly upset.
“Those with a D, line up by the door. You will be taken to your cells without dinner,” she sneered at the group, one of whom had begun crying.
“Those with an E, report to room fourteen for punishment. Those with an F, you will be taken to the punishment cells for three days.”
Camille shuddered as six girls were led off to the punishment cells. They were, apparently, empty cells where one was kept in solitary, with only a bucket to pee in, and denied food. She did not want to see them in person. Room 14 was less bad; it was where they sent people to write lines, or recite things.
Her group was taken for dinner; more bland food, but at least they were given some. Those whose grades had been lower would be hungry tonight. Camille shuddered again. It was a reminder that this wasn’t just a boarding school or some propaganda-filled holiday club.
“I don’t understand, my essay contained all the points in the film collection,” Camille complained to another girl once she was seated.
“Yes, it did,” the teacher said from behind the pair. They both jumped. “And yet, I could tell you were merely reciting the points. You did not believe them. You are not here to memorise the role of the Matriarchy. You are here to understand and accept the role of the Matriarchy. Should you wish to be rewarded, and should you wish to leave here before your five years are finished, you must open your mind.”
Then she walked away, leaving Camille and the other girl staring after her. “She means let them brainwash you,” the other girl said.
“I got that, thanks,” Camille grumbled, sticking a chunk of some flavourless meat into her mouth and beginning to chew. This would not be as easy as she had imagined.
*
Carolyn Greenwood got an A on her essay. She was excited, thinking she would get to sit the exam. Imagine her disappointment when she was told she would have to wait three months! She sat in the rewards room, where they had pool tables, table tennis, and a bunch of old arcade games that couldn’t connect to anything, without doing anything. She didn’t want to socialise with these people! She wanted to go home.
Cass had gotten an F and been dragged away to solitary. According to some of the other women, she’d probably get a beating. That was, according to rumour, the difference between the Young Adult and Juvenile centres. Carolyn didn’t care. Cass, frankly, deserved it. No, staring at these dissidents, these traitors, getting to play games just because they wrote a good essay? Carolyn vowed that when she was Councillor Greenwood, she would have these places shut down. And turned into real prisons.
She had meant it when she told her mother that she would have rather spent a week being tortured in the Restricted Region. At least then it would be over by now. And she wouldn’t have to look at this nonsense! In fact, if she thought about it enough, she realised that her actions had been wrong and did deserve to be punished. But surely for breaking into the Patel Family torture dungeon, the RR was a more fitting punishment? She went over to a table where people were drawing in the activity room, and took it back to her seat with a pencil.
“Dear Councillor Patel,
I wish to humbly and sincerely apologise for my unacceptable actions last week…”
LIDUN President 2024 | she/her | Puppets: Kerlile, Glanainn, Yesteria, Zongongia, Zargothrax