debbiedowner

Thanks for the nudge. I've been a little down lately, but happy to try to start writing again! Chapter 7 Jesse My new cell is worse than the first, and in some ways, better. Everything is white. The walls. My sleeping pad on the floor. The table that folds down from the wall—the table where they change my…change me, every time I…It’s all white. That’s worse. But the ground is soft and clean, at least, and I do have a place to sleep. That’s better, even if the reason the floor is clean is because I’m wearing a… Bile churns in my gut at the thought of it. No one can see in. That’s better. But I can’t see out. Worse. I sit on the floor, my legs pushed apart by the ignominious padding between them. This cell is impossibly quieter than the first, except for the occasional…crinkle. Sometimes, I think I can hear a low hum, a distant white noise. Sometimes, it morphs into a melody. I can’t tell if it’s real or if I’m just going crazy from sensory deprivation. I try not to succumb to it. I try to think about mom and Tessa and home. I wonder if they’re missing me, if they’re alright. But the time is eating at me. My stomach rumbles. I look down at it, knowing what’s coming. Sometimes, I can hold it in, but if I push it out…at least I won’t be alone anymore, at least not for a little while. Someone always comes when I push it out. I rest my mittened hands on the floor and lean forward enough to lift my butt off the ground. I grunt softly and push. Soft, warm mush fills the seat of my already soaked…underwear. My eyes flood with tears, and before I know it, I’m sobbing. The door opens and a smiling nurse enters. “Is someone stinky?” she asks. She bends down, resting her hands on her knees. “Did you go poopy, baby Jesse?” She sniffs, dramatically, while I continue to cry. “I think you did,” she coos. “I think you did. Let’s check your diapy.” She reaches forward and pulls back the waistband of the pamper. There’s nothing in her way, because I’m still naked, except for the pamper and the mittens on my hands. My tears strengthen at the foul smell that fills the air. The nurse makes an exaggerated face. “Pee-yew! You are a stinky baby.” She straightens up and pulls down the changing table before returning and picking me up with surprising ease. She lays me on the table and places a strap across my belly. Then she undoes my tapes and gets to work cleaning the damage, continuing with the embarrassing baby talk as she works, occasionally tickling my stomach. I should hate this. I should hate all of it, but diaper changes and feeding times are the only times I have human contact, or any kind of stimulation at all. They’re the only thing keeping my despair at bay. And so, I find a perverse comfort in the routine, in the gentleness of it all. The nurse finishes changing me and sets me gently on the ground again. She places a sweet kiss on my forehead before carrying the stinky diaper out of my cell and subjecting me to complete isolation again. Miserably, I crawl over to my pad and lay down for a nap. It’s one of the only ways to pass time, to make the terrible monotony drift by a little faster. When I wake up, however, it’s to something new. There, sitting beside the door, is a delicate figure dressed in an adorable pink dress, a cheerful smile on her face. Tessa “Where are we going?” After another humiliating day at the college, Lucas leads me in the opposite direction of our house. All I want is to go home and lock myself in my plain, closet-sized bedroom. Every day is a struggle. Each morning, I’m awakened by Lucas’s impatient knock on my door. I’m always the last to arrive at school, my cheeks hot with embarrassment as I rush into the classroom seconds before the tardy bell, which would mean another spanking in front of my snickering classmates. As if I don’t get enough of those. Dr. Marin’s always watching me, waiting for me to fail, and I fail again and again. I burn bread, sew seams crooked, drop delicate plates. I just want to go home and rub lotion into my sore ass. “Mercedes invited us over for dinner,” Lucas informs me. “In front of Dr. Green,” he adds, before I can protest. “So, it’s not like I could turn her down.” I lower my face to hide my scowl. Of course, he cares what Dr. Green thinks. Lucas seems to be excelling in his studies, whatever they are. I see him at school, always surrounded by teachers and students, always the center of attention, always getting a clap on the back and nods of approval from Dr. Green and Dr. Marin. I can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. If only I could fit into this strange new society as seamlessly as he has. Mercedes’ house is in as good of a neighborhood as they come these days, a neighborhood with real lawns, trimmed hedges, and flowers. Her parents, both deceased, had been ranked fairly high in the army during the war. I’m surprised when she answers her own door. That’s Ethan’s job. “Lucas,” she greets my dom. “Finally visiting your dear sister, I see.” She smirks at the confusion on my face. “Come in,” she commands and walks away. I hesitate on the porch. “What does she mean by that?” I stammer. Lucas sighs. “We’ve been assigned to each other,” he says, carefully. “I’ll tell you more when you need to know.” With that, he walks into the house, leaving me with nothing to do but follow. My mouth drops open when I spot Ethan standing with his nose in the living room corner. Except for the collar Mercedes makes him wear, he’s as naked as the day he was born. His elbows are raised, hands interlocked behind his head, butt cheeks as red as cherries. He doesn’t move a muscle as we enter the room. “Don’t mind him,” Mercedes says, nonchalantly. “He mouthed off on the way home.” She looks at me. “Of course, since he’ll be in time out for a bit, you’ll have to get started on dinner without him.” Her cold gaze slides to Lucas. “She can cook. Right?” Lucas clasps a hand on the back of his neck. “She’s been doing pretty well,” he acknowledges. My blood runs cold through my veins. I’ve been going to my mom’s every day after school, letting her cook dinner while I unload about all the terrible things that have happened to me. I haven’t learned a thing about cooking…but Lucas doesn’t know that. “What are you waiting for?” Mercedes demands. She points toward a door. “The kitchen is through there.” My feet as heavy as lead, I avoid making eye contact with Lucas and trudge into the kitchen. What am I going to do?

Thanks for reading and commenting. I enjoy the predictions. Chapter 6 Jesse I feel sluggish after draining my second bottle. Miller leans me forward and firmly pats my bare back. I don’t realize what he’s doing until a milky burp escapes my lips. My face grows warm. Outside my cell, feeble inmates are being loaded into large wooden crates, six a piece. The crates are connected and look like a larger version of the little train Tessa and I used to ride at the mall, back before everything changed. I try to crawl out of Miller’s lap, but I am slow and uncoordinated. He easily picks me up and deposits me into the cart alongside Adam and four others. Before I can climb out again, the crate’s door latches into place with a firm click. I barely register the movement as we’re pulled down the aisle and out into a long corridor. The sterile walls blur past in a nauseating swirl of white. Finally, the train comes to a halt, with each crate stopping before a plain white door. The doors are unmarked, except for a little yellow duckling painted above each one. A chorus of startled whimpers and panicked babbling rises up from the crates. A broad-shouldered man in white scrubs looms over our crate with an eerie smile plastered on his face. I scramble away from him, my back pressing against the naked chest of the girl behind me. He reaches into the crate and lugs another girl out. All down the corridor, other muscular orderlies do the same, plucking an inmate from each of the crates. Then they all go into the rooms, shutting the doors before any of us can catch a glance inside. My chest heaves up and down. I crawl back to the other side of the crate and sit up on my knees, wrapping my fingers around one of the wooden bars. My arms and legs are JELL-O after two bottles of milk, but I try to pull myself up anyway. I stop when I feel a touch on my elbow. I twist around to see Adam. I drop to my bottom. E-S-C-A-P-E, I sign, babbling the word incoherently. He nods solemnly. I turn and try to climb again, but he tugs my arm. N-E-E-D P-L-A-N, he signs. He’s right. Even if I do manage to get out of this crate, I’m not strong enough to make it down the corridor. I’m definitely not strong enough to outrun the guards. I sit back down and face him. For the next fifteen minutes, we strategize. I’m in the middle of suggesting an idea when Adam’s eyes go wide at something behind me. Before I can turn around, two hands hook under my armpits and hoist me up. The strong man turns me around and settles me on his hip, with one hand sliding down to support my bare ass. “No,” I protest. “Put me down.” But I can tell he doesn’t understand. He grins and simply adjusts his grip. The door opens before us, and too soon, it shuts behind us. There is a woman inside the room, dressed in a pristine white nurse’s uniform. She stands beside an examination chair with stirrups and straps. I struggle harder as I’m carried toward them, but I’m strapped in and restrained with ease, my legs spread wide open. The nurse smiles. “Don’t worry, sweetie. It’ll be over before you know it.” Then she snaps on a pair of plastic gloves and lubes up her fingers. I flinch against the restraints as her fingers push inside me and poke around. I whimper. The nurse frowns sympathetically. “I know. I know. That’s no fun,” she coos. She rattles off a string of numbers, and I notice the orderly jot them down on a clipboard. Next, the nurse rubs some strange gel on my abdomen. Then she touches a strange probe to it and moves it around against my skin. Another strand of numbers. She sets the device down and removes her gloves. “Bath time, cutie.” She nods to the orderly to pick me up again. Instead of fighting, I just shiver in his arms. He carries me to a square tub and straps me into a strange, plastic scoop chair with a mesh seatbelt that comes up between my legs. He fills the tub with water up to my belly button. I blush fiercely as he begins washing me with a sponge, and even more fiercely when he chuckles and says, “Looks like someone’s a tub tinkler.” “It’s a good thing we have these,” the nurse responds. I look in horror at the large, fluffy, white object in her hand. “No more crawling around in your messies, little one,” the nurse smiles. “From now on, you have nothing to worry about at all.” Tessa One by one, the “dom” students file into the auditorium and pair up with their subs. Ethan and I stand together, my stomach churning. It sinks when I see Mercedes Ferra walking straight toward us. She was a student in Ethan’s year at the high school, and one of the biggest bullies. I swallow nervously as she reaches us. Mercedes glances me up and down and smirks. “Nice outfit,” she says. I lower my gaze, only to have Mercedes place a finger under my chin and lift it again. She looks me coolly in the eyes. “I just gave you a compliment. Don’t be rude. Say thank you.” “Th-thank you,” I stammer. Her eyes narrow. “Thank you what?” Her fingers press firmly against my chin. “I…I don’t know,” I reply. Mercedes rolls her eyes. “Ms. Ferra,” she commands. My eyes widen at the ridiculous request. I glance around in search of help. Mercedes squeezes harder, digging her nails into my skin and drawing tears. “Thank you, Ms. Ferra,” I blurt out. She scoffs and releases my jaw. “A-are you my dom?” I ask, praying for a no. “No, I am,” a firm voice comes from behind her. Lucas appears at Mercedes side. He glares at her. “I didn’t know it was okay to touch another dom’s sub,” he says. Mercedes rolls her eyes. “I didn’t hurt her,” she says. Her cold eyes slide to Ethan. “Come on, scrub,” she says. “We’re going home.” Massaging my jaw, I watch as the two of them leave. “Poor Ethan,” I murmur. Lucas glances after them. “He’ll be fine,” he says, making me wonder how he could know such a thing. “Let’s go.” Our walk back to Lucas’s house is silent. I can’t help but steal glances at him, looking for some sign of what he’s thinking. But his expression is unreasonable. It’s not until we our neighborhood that he speaks. “You’ll live with my father and I from now on. You should probably get started on dinner.” I stop walking. He gets a few feet ahead before he turns and looks at me. “What?” he asks. “I…I don’t know how to cook,” I explain. He shrugs, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I know where you can learn.” That’s how I find myself back at my old home, staring my mother in the eye. She looks at me, her eyes full of longing and guilt. “Can you show me how to cook?” I ask. Berthe doesn’t ask why. She doesn’t say anything at all. Instead, she just ushers me to the kitchen. I sink into a chair at the kitchen table and watch as she sets off to work. She doesn’t ask me for help, and even though I’m supposed to be the one cooking, I don’t offer. I’ve had a long day and I need to process. I doubt Lucas will mind if I delay my cooking lessons just for a night.

I'll try to make it make a little sense 😅, but making it make a lot of sense is not a high priority for me. I'm just having fun (morbid fun, but still). Also, sorry for the delay. I ended up getting flu last week and didn't have time to play with this story, but I'm back.

I have a few more scenes drafted. Hopefully I can post soon! Chapter 5 Jesse The man in the cell next to mine is named Adam. We’ve developed a silent code. A tap for ‘yes’, two taps for ‘no’, a swipe for ‘can’t’, and a series of gestures for letters. It’s crude and inefficient, but it’s all we have. Maybe it will be enough to help us escape this place. Adam is twenty-four. Like me, he can no longer stand without getting dizzy. We’re sitting, facing each other when urine spurts out from his penis. At first, he doesn’t seem to notice, until he catches my wide eyes staring at it. He looks down in horror as the urine sprays out before him soaking the newspaper and splashing against his legs. Then, he looks back up to me and swipes a finger from one side to the other. Can’t. Shit. He can’t stop himself. The grown man starts bawling. I turn away to give him a small measure of privacy. The orderlies make their way down the aisles, fixing new bottles of that white liquid to our cells. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. I turn back to Adam. I want to tell him not to drink it. I want him to see that it’s to blame for our weakness. But the blubbering man is already crawling as fast as he can toward the teat. He splashes right through his puddle. I hear a click as my bottle is attached to my cell. I fight against the urge to crawl toward it. The orderly who has attached it pauses outside my cell and looks curiously at me. He taps the glass and beckons me over, like I’m some sort of fish. I shake my head, even though my very blood seems to scream for the milk. The orderly squats and looks me in the eyes. He taps the glass again, and I shake my head a second time. He stands up again, and I release a sigh. I catch Adam glancing at me as he drinks greedily from his bottle. The tears are drying on his face. B-A-D, I spell. M-I-L-K H-U… Before I finish, I hear a click. I whip my head back toward my door. For the first time since I’ve arrived, it opens. The orderly steps inside my cell. I scoot back. “Leave me alone,” I plead, or at least, I try to plead. My tongue is heavy and dumb. It sounds more like incomprehensible babble. The orderly smiles. “There, there,” he says. “I’m not going to hurt you.” I glance at the bottle in his hand. It’s slightly different than the others. It’s not meant for animals in cages. It’s meant for babies. I scramble backward until my back presses against glass. But in my weakened state, it isn’t difficult for the man to restrain me and scoop me into his lap. I strain against him, but he has one arm wrapped around my torso and pinning my arms down, and the other holding the bottle nipple against my lips. He pushes it in. At the first drop of liquid, my resolve melts away. I suckle fervently, relaxing into his hold. Dr. Marin appears in the doorway as I drain away the last of the bottle. “Looks like you need a shower, Miller,” she says to the orderly. I follow her gaze to our laps and realize with burning embarrassment that I’ve peed all over the orderly’s legs. Dr. Marin approaches, heels clacking against the hard ground beneath the newspaper. She bends down in front of me as Miller pulls the bottle nipple away. I whine, wanting more of the milk. “What is your name?” Dr. Marin asks me. I sniffle. “Dethy,” I mumble. Dr. Mary smiles, a triumphant light in her eyes. She straightens back up and addresses Miller. “Feed her another bottle,” she commands. “Then let’s prepare for Phase 2.” Tessa Dr. Marin left right after my spanking this morning, claiming to have business elsewhere. But first she told us that the “S” on our test results stands for “submissive,” and that today we would be learning the core principles of obedience. Throughout the day, I try to blend into the background, to be invisible. But whispers and snickers echo everywhere I go, filling me with a hollow embarrassment. Ethan is the only one who doesn’t find what happened this morning funny. “Honestly,” he says, later in the canteen, “I thought it was kind of hot. I wouldn’t mind taking a trip over Dr. Marin’s knee.” I flush. “You’re gross,” I mumble, lowering my eyes to avoid the amused glances of the other submissives eating around us. Ethan just shrugs. “Line up to receive your uniforms!” a male voice booms at one end of the room. The canteen shuffles into action. No one wants to be put on display the way I was earlier. Ethan and I exchange glances and then hurry to fall in line. Our uniforms turn out to be another wave in the sea of embarrassment. The women receive strange, outdated dresses that look more fitting for a 1950’s movie set. They’re dresses, something Audrey Hepburn might have worn, except…not quite as modest. The men receive similar attire, classic suits that look out of place in our modern world. Except their pants are shorts, very short shorts that highlight their asses, and instead of ties they wear bowties that look more like collars. We’re ordered to dress right in the canteen. Blushing, I change as quickly as I can. Ethan’s cheeks burn bright red, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s enjoying this. The bulge in his drawers is evidence of that. Dr. Marin’s assistants, older men and women from the community, come and take our normal clothes away. “You won’t be needing your former clothes,” the man from before informs us. “Your uniforms are to be worn at all hours of the day.” After changing into our uniforms, we’re sent back to class to learn more about the four tenets of obedience: 1) Respect for Authority, 2) Duty and Responsibility, 3) Acceptance and Compliance, and 4) Selflessness. But between my smarting ass, strange new clothes, and constant hecklers, I have a hard time paying attention. Finally, the day winds down. At final bell, I hop out of my seat, eager to escape the scrutiny of my classmates. Others seem to have the same idea, but we’re stopped at the door by our teacher. “Your Doms will be taking you home today,” she explains. “You will wait here for them to retrieve you.” Dread washes over me. Dom? What does that mean? I look around at the other submissives and see my fear mirrored in their eyes. We’re all in the same boat, whether we like it or not.

This is my first time writing a story like this, so I apologize if I'm getting it wrong somehow. Anyway, it's just for fun. Chapter 4: Good Girls Jesse I lose track of the days as they drift by. Has it been two or three? With no clock in the warehouse, there’s no way to tell. My arms ache from holding newspaper against my body, trying to preserve my modesty. Eventually, I let the papers flutter to the floor. I wince as one lands next to the pee stain from my accident the other day. The stale odor of urine permeates the air. This confinement is maddening. They don’t talk to us. They don’t let us talk to each other. They don’t let us out. Every day is the same. We sit in our cells, or we pace in them, or cry in them. At the end of the day, Dr. Marin returns, and she always asks the same question: “What is your name?” I want to strangle her when she asks. I want to smash the clear door between us, shove her down, and sprint for freedom. But even though she’s always smiling, there is an ominous glint in her eyes. I don’t know what will happen yet if I step out of line. So, I always grit my teeth and answer. Today, I am feeling too tired and too weak for much pacing. I haven’t had anything to eat or drink since I’ve been here. Six times a day, they affix bottles of creamy white liquid to our cells—animal bottles with a teat. The teat is the only part that pokes into the cell. They attach the bottles near to the ground, so that if we are to drink from them, we have to get down on hands and knees to do it. I’ve managed to avoid the bottles until now, my pride and suspicion getting the better of me. Besides that, I’ve noticed strange things. The inmates who have debased themselves to get down and drink it are acting strangely. As soon as they see the orderlies coming with the carts, their dismal faces glow with eagerness. And they wet themselves quite often. That’s another thing I’ve managed to avoid doing since the first time. But now I feel so weak and so tired. I remember something I learned in science class: The human body can survive three to five days without water. How many days has it been? I don’t want to die. When I see the cart coming, I make my decision. I turn toward Nick’s cell and see him watching the cart too. Like me, he has abstained. He looks my way, and together, we nod. I watch as an orderly attaches a bottle to my cell. Slowly, I lower down to my knees feeling defeated. I inch toward the bottle, taking care to avoid the dried pee spot. I lower my hands down to the floor, then wrap my lips around the teat. Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I feel instantly ridiculous, but I push my pride away and suck. The rich, creamy liquid is surprisingly sweet. It’s delicious, as a matter of fact. I take another pull, and another, suckling greedily until the bottle is empty and my belly is full. Hours later, when the next bottle comes, I drop down on all fours without hesitation and gobble it up quickly. This time, my belly aches when I am done, and I know I need to urinate. I crawl to the corner of my cell and let go, closing my eyes as if doing so will make me invisible to everyone else around me. When I open my eyes, heat rushes to my cheeks once more as I see Dr. Marin standing before my cell with a wide smile on her face. Urine still trickles from my urethra, pooling underneath me. Dr. Marin presses her thumb against the pad of my door. “What is your name?” she asks. My humiliation consumes me. I can’t even bring myself to answer with my usual attitude. “Jesse,” I murmur. Something feels different this time when I say it. There’s a subtle but unmistakable tingle in my tongue that wasn’t there before. Dr. Marin smiles. “Good girl,” she says. Then she moves swiftly to the next cell. Tessa I wince as I struggle to keep up with Lucas, my ass smarting beneath my pants. “What’s wrong?” he asks, noticing my discomfort. How could I tell him that I got caught cheating on the test and the program director took me over her lap and spanked me like I was a little kid? That was two days ago, and I still grimace every time I sit down. “Nothing,” I mumble. “I…worked out too hard.” Lucas scoffs, and I raise an eyebrow at him. “What?” I demand. “Nothing,” he says, with a mischievous smile. “I just didn’t know you were the type.” Before I can fuss at him, we’re passing the old elementary school. Those strange wooden boxes still haunt the playground. The building is now a light blue color, but it looks like the painters aren’t finished yet. Lucas’s smile fades. “I guess we’re finding out our scores today,” he says. I nod, feeling a tight knot in my stomach. We’ve had the last two days off while the tests were scored. I’m not sure what they’ll do with my results. When we reach the school, staff members direct us to the hallway where our results are posted. Lucas and I push through the crowd of students gathered in front of the bulletin board. There are only two codes for the results: “D” and “S.” We find Lucas’s name first. There’s a D next to it. My name is on another sheet. “S.” Before we can discuss it, faculty members are already sorting us out. “Result D this way!” one shouts. “S, over there.” Lucas squeezes my hand, and then we go our separate ways. I pause to watch Lucas head toward his group. Dr. Green stands at the center of it and claps Lucas on the back when Lucas joins. I’m still close enough to hear the doctor congratulate Lucas on his high test scores. I feel a queasy sort of shame and jealousy. Of course, Lucas did well. I follow my own group to a lecture hall and am relieved to spot a familiar face: Ethan Berman, Nick’s brother. “You’re an S, too?” I ask, as I join him. Ethan grins. “Yeah, whatever that means,” he says, ominously. “Yes, I’m sure you all have questions about your designation,” a familiar voice calls from the front of the hall, a voice that makes me cringe. Dr. Marin stands at the front of the room, a smile devoid of warmth on her face. “You will learn soon enough, but first you must understand that you have all been selected for a very important role. If you do poorly or fail to follow instructions, there will be consequences to keep you on track.” A brave student dares to rase her hand. “What kind of consequences?” she asks. Dr. Marin’s smile widens. “Tessa,” she says, her eyes pinning me down in the crowd. “Why don’t you demonstrate?” My face flushes. “N-now?” I stammer. Here? In front of everyone? Dr. Marin sits in a chair and impatiently raps her fingertips against her kneecap. “I think you know better than to keep me waiting, Tess,” she purrs. With leaden feet, I trudge to the front of the room. I hesitate at her side before pulling my pants down. Then my panties. The audience gasps in shock, and I feel heat rush to my face. It is nothing compared to the heat I am going to feel on my ass. Biting back tears of humiliation, I drape myself over the doctor’s lap. The first spank elicits a yelp. By the fifth, I start to whimper. By the tenth, I am a blubbering mess, still sore from my first spanking. “There, there,” the doctor coos. “You’re a good girl for helping me demonstrate.” As she comforts me, she taps my butt lightly. Then she sighs and addresses the audience. “Now, let’s begin your training.”

I'm not a twin but have a lot of siblings close in age, so I think some of the sibling dynamics are similar. I hope I don't portray anything too unrealistically. 🙃 Chapter 3: Dr. Marin Jesse I awake with a start on a hard, crinkly surface. I don’t remember dozing off in the truck. In fact, I tried really hard not to, but here I am. At first, I am too groggy and disoriented to notice anything unusual. Then I feel a sharp pull in my abdomen—my bladder screaming for release. I groan and place my palms flat against the ground to push myself up. When I do, I feel paper underneath. I blink my eyes to clear away the blurriness of sleep, and I see newspaper. The floor is covered in newspaper. Panic creeps in and I try to fight it with deep breaths, but the air feels thin. I raise my head and my heart races faster. The walls are transparent and too close. The room I am in is nothing more than a box—a cell. The cell next to it is just as big, as is the one beyond that, and the one beyond that, and the row of cells across the aisle from my own. In each, an occupant awakens, just like me, lying on a bed of newspapers and completely naked. I look down at my own body, my breath too ragged to control now. Not an ounce of clothing. The man in the cell next to me pounds against the wall between us, and I don’t hear a sound. The woman in the cell across from me is sobbing. I hear nothing. Crying, screaming, punching won’t help. No one can hear us. Think, Jesse, I urge myself. Stay calm and think. We are in a warehouse. Judging by what I see, there could be hundreds of cells in this room alone. At my back, there is another row, and I can see other rows through that one. Think. There must be a way out of this. I try to cover myself up with my hands, then quickly grab two sheets of newspaper and hold them to my breasts and privates. There is nothing I can do for my backside. There is no hiding it. A young man frantically jumps up and down a few cells down, waving his hands in the air. When I turn and look at him, I gasp. “Nick!” I cry. Relief and horror shudder through me—relief at seeing my friend, horror at our predicament. The look in his eyes tells me he feels the same. My eyes travel down his lean body to his…I blush and look away. That’s when I see her, an older woman in a pencil skirt. She wears a bun, thin-rimmed glasses, and an eerie smile as she walks down our aisle with her clipboard. She stops at each cell, pressing a thumb against a little pad on each door. It appears to allow her to talk to each inmate, because her mouth moves, and then theirs move in return. A sharp pang cries out in my bladder. I cup one hand between my legs and bounce from foot to foot to keep from peeing. She’s moving so frustratingly slow. Finally, the woman with the clipboard reaches my cell and presses her thumb against the pad on my door. She looks surprised when I speak first, unlike all the others. “Please,” I say. “I need to go to the bathroom.” The shock on her face settles into a smirk, and she jots something down on her clipboard. Anger and frustration surge within me. “Did you hear me?” I demand. But it’s hard to keep the anger in my voice when I am standing in front of this gorgeous woman stark naked. I think it sounds more like a whine. Like something Tessa would do. Then she speaks, and her voice is oddly sweet. “Hi, there,” she purrs. “What’s your name?” I squeeze my legs together. “Jesse,” I spit out. “Please. Let me out of here! I need to use the bathroom, and I want to know what’s happening!” She seems unfazed by my outburst and simply continues to smile. “Hi, Jesse. I’m Dr. Marin.” Then she pulls her thumb back and walks on to the next cell, ignoring my angry cries. A burst of urine seeps out between my fingers, and then the dam breaks loose. Tessa I stand next to Lucas outside the imposing building that was once the hub of our town’s community college. Now it bears a new title: The Institute for Societal Reconstruction and Evolution, or ISRE. A shiver runs down my spine as I stare at the cold, dark letters above the entrance. This is where I will be going to school from now on. Lucas nudges my shoulder and offers me a small, comforting smile, but it does little to quell the storm of conflicting emotions raging inside me. I haven’t spoken to my mother in two days. I don’t know how to forgive her. For letting Jessie go. For choosing me without really choosing me at all. I want to honor my sister’s sacrifice, and at the same time, prove to everyone that I can be better than her. We enter the building, a crowd of young men and women between the ages of 18 and 25. We’re herded into a large auditorium, where there’s a stage. The man who took Jesse away from us stands on the center of it. Beside him, there’s an older woman with a neat hair bun and circular glasses. The man looks sterner than before, but the woman smiles at us. “Welcome, students,” the man greets us, once the auditorium quiets down. “I am Dr. Green, and this Dr. Marin. Today, you will take an entrance exam. The exam will measure several things: aptitude, intelligence, personality, etc. You must answer each question honestly and to the best of your ability.” Anxiety knots in my stomach. I’ve never been a particularly good student. I’ve never had reason to. I glance at Lucas, but he doesn’t look as nervous as me. Instead, he looks serious. Determined, even. After the assembly, we’re sent to smaller classrooms. There are five students per room and one monitor. My stomach aches something fierce as I slide into my seat. When the monitor hands me my test, I am sweating bullets and fidgeting nervously. I glance at the other students. They all start working diligently on their tests. “Eyes on your own paper, Ms. Alden,” the monitor barks. I snap my eyes back to my own paper. The first section seems to be asking about personal preferences, but the questions are so complex, I can’t really understand. I hate reading and always had the worst scores in comprehension. At one point, the monitor turns around and shuffles through some papers. When he does, I glance at the girl’s paper next to me and quickly copy down a few of her answers. Every time the monitor gets distracted, I cheat a little more. Before I know it, the test is over, and the monitor is collecting them. We stand to go, but the monitor looks at me and shakes his head. “Remain seated, Ms. Alden. The rest of you can go.” “Wh…why?” I stammer, as the other students file out of the room. They part around a woman standing in the doorway. I recognize her as the woman from the stage. Dr. Marin. She folds her arms and smirks. “Cheating, Ms. Alden?” she asks. I squirm. How could she know that. I shake my head fervently. “No, Dr. Marin.” She shakes her head. “And lying, too,” she adds. “Well. I’m afraid we can’t have that, dear.”

The indents don't paste into the text editor. 🤷‍♀️ Anyway, which sister do you like best so far? Chapter 2: Why me? Jesse Tessa and I walk home from school, our hearts heavy with the day’s events. We stop cold a few feet from our yards. A white cargo truck is parked outside our house. The sight of it fills me with dread that seeps into my bones. The truck is a harbinger of doom. We hesitate, steeling ourselves for what awaits us inside. Tessa moves first. With a gasp, she breaks away from me and dashes toward the house. I follow, my pace calmer and steadier, despite the storm that roils inside my body. There is a man in a black suit at our kitchen table, and two younger men in white scrubs standing near the back door. Mother sits beside the first man, her trembling fingers wrapped tight around a cup of tea. I can see that she hasn’t taken a sip, but the man’s cup is empty. He’s been here for a while. He smiles at us, but his cold eyes send shivers down my spine. He speaks. “Well, Mrs. Alden,” he says. “The girls are here. It’s time to decide.” His voice is surprisingly kind, and at the same time, devoid of sympathy. Mom’s frantic eyes shift between Tessa and me. “I can’t choose,” she whispers. “I love them both.” The man nods, his face a mockery of understanding. “Since you cannot decide, I will choose for you,” he offers. “Perhaps you will feel some relief.” He glances at the two men in white and then nods his head toward Tessa. They grab her too quickly, before I can make any sense of what’s going on. Fear and devastation grip my heart. “No!” I sputter. I can’t lose her. I run to my mother’s side and pull her to her feet. She must stop this. Tessa drops her weight into the men’s arms, resisting as they drag her toward the door. She screams and cries, and it is unbearable. “No!” I cry again. But it is my mother’s voice that makes them stop. “No,” she says, her voice somehow firm. Her eyes fill with anguish and resignation. She wraps a hand around my arm, squeezing softly. Then she nudges me toward the man. “Take Jesse.” Tessa is free. I should feel gratitude and relief. I do, to some degree. It is what I wanted, after all, for the men to release her. And they do. But all I feel is shock and horror as they turn to me instead. And then I am the one in their grasp. I don’t buck and writhe, like Tessa. I let them take me. Tessa runs into Mom’s arms, still sobbing. My mother holds her close, training her eyes on me. Numbly, I search those eyes for some explanation but find none, only sorrow. Before I know it, I am at the front door, then on the lawn, then standing before the open mouth of the truck. There are others inside, so many others, all crammed in like sardines. The men in white nudge me forward, and I grab the hand of a boy I’ve never met before. Even though terror is written across his face, he still has the presence of mind to show kindness to a stranger. As the rear door slides shut, closing us in darkness, only one thought creeps into my mind: I should have asked to use the bathroom. Tessa The house is silent, except for my soft sobs. “Mommy,” I blubber. She holds me firmly, and I feel like a little kid again, safe in her arms. They were going to take me—those terrible men, but she saved me. As my tears begin to subside, reality sinks in. Jesse is gone. In the end, Mom chose me. I sniffle and look up at her blank face. “Why me?” I whisper. “Why did you let them take Jesse?” She holds me tighter and doesn’t answer at first. “Why me?” I demand. She finally looks back at me. “I…” Guilt. I can see the guilt eating away at her. She shakes her head, as if to clear the guilt away. “Jesse is strong,” she murmurs, more to herself than to me. “She’s smart and…and capable. She can handle whatever they throw at her. She…she’ll be okay.” Her words sting, even though they’re meant to be some sort of twisted consolation. “You…you think I’m weak,” I realize, pulling away from her. “You don’t think I’m smart or strong enough to handle it.” Anger flares through me. “That’s why you let them take Jesse, because you think she’s better than me.” Anguish ripples through her face. “Tess.” I’m standing now. “You’ve always thought she was better than me,” I spit out. She reaches for me, but I evade her grasp. A part of me knows she’s right. Jesse is stronger than me, and smarter, and more resilient, but that doesn’t make it hurt less. I run out of the house, ignoring my mother’s cries after me. I run to the only person I can think of. Lucas is standing on his front porch, consoling his grief-stricken father with a hand on his shoulder. They’ve given up his sister then—Emmy. It makes sense. Lucas’s father is old, and he’ll need someone who can manage the family business, which has somehow survived the war. Emmy’s too gentle for such a role. When Lucas notices me, his face goes green, as if he’ll be sick with horror and disappointment. I push away the hurt that look stirs in me. Wordlessly, I barrel into him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I sob into his chest and am relieved when, after a small hesitation, I feel his arms wrap around me.

Written with a little assistance from ai tech. Chapter 1: What do you mean choose?? Jesse My sister and I walk side by side through the too-quiet streets. I can feel Tessa’s unease. It’s always so close to the surface with her. My twin’s shoulders slump forward. She pulls her arms tight around her torso, bracing against the gust of wind that chills our bones. “Jesse, Mom’s been acting really strange lately, don’t you think?” she asks, chewing on her bottom lip the way she does when she’s nervous. I nod, my own worry gnawing at me. Ever since that mysterious envelope arrived from the school, Mom has been increasingly brooding. She’s usually chipper, despite the way things have been in this country lately. It’s so unsettling to see her like this. She hasn’t been this way since Dad died. Another gust of wind carries the distant sound of machinery through the air. Down the street, construction workers remove play structures from the old elementary school’s recess yard. The building has been abandoned for ten years, since the last of us were young enough to attend primary school. The last child in the country turns eighteen next week. Tessa and I are nearly twenty. We pass the elementary school quickly and quietly, turning our heads away as the construction workers rip the last vestiges of our happy childhoods from the Earth. Once we’re clear, Tessa releases a shaky breath. I can hear the tremble in her voice as she speaks. “You know, Jess, sometimes I wish we could just marry and start families and…” Her voice trails off, and her bottom lip quivers. Marriage is forbidden. Families are impossible. The last world war ravaged our planet and our bodies. Humans have lost their ability to reproduce. Tessa will cry if I don’t say something. She always cries. “I know, Tess,” I murmur. “But, hey. At least we have each other.” We hear hurried footsteps behind us. “Jess! Tess!” We turn to see our childhood friend Nick running to catch up with us. His usually cheerful face is ashen, and his eyes hold a glint of fear. My pulse quickens. “Nick, what is it?” I ask, keeping my voice monotone for Tessa’s sake. “What? Your mom didn’t tell you?” Nick huffs, out of breath. “Tell us what?” Tessa asks. The worry in her voice tells me she’s already imagining the most catastrophic news. I put a leash on my own imagination. “About the letter the school sent home to all the parents,” Nick says. He hesitates, then looks around to ensure that we’re alone. “By national decree, all families have to choose one of their two children under the age of twenty-five to surrender to the government by the end of the week.” My heart pounds. I wouldn’t believe it, wouldn’t even consider it, if I weren’t hearing it directly from Nick himself. His father is the mayor of this desolate town, so I know Nick wouldn’t waste my time with useless rumors. “What do you mean choose?” Tessa shrieks, and then takes off, bolting for our house, while the harsh truth of our mother’s strange behavior hits me like a train. I thank Nick for the news and take my time getting home. I’ve known for some time that the world has been changing in unimaginable ways, but this seems bleak. What does the government want with us? My mind races as I try to come up with an explanation…and a solution. Somehow, I have to keep our family together. It’s what my dad would want. When I reach home, I find my mother and sister sitting at the kitchen table. Tessa is draped over my mother’s lap, sobbing inconsolably, while my mother just stares blankly into space, pain and horror etched on her face. Her eyes drift toward me as I stand in the doorway. “I didn’t want you to find out like this,” she says. “I didn’t know how to tell you.” A stronger wave of sobs rack Tessa’s slim frame. A lump forms in my throat, but I push past it. “There has to be a way out of this,” I say. “There must be something we can do.” But even as I say it, the words feel hollow and futile. I think of Dad again and wish he was here. He’d know what to do. My mother just looks away. Tessa Jesse and I head back to school the next morning. School halted during the war, so everyone’s a few grades behind, not that it even matters. There are no jobs for our generation, so there’s no pressure to hurry through high school. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t even go to school, but the law requires it. The streets are as eerie and silent as ever, and my sister hardly says a word. I can tell she’s busy trying to think of a plan to save our family. That’s Jess. She always thinks she can fix everything. She should know better by now. This world sucks, and it’s going to keep sucking. We pass the old elementary school again, and I shudder with the creeps. The swing sets, slides, see-saw, jungle gym…it’s all gone. Everything I loved when I was little. Where all this playground equipment once stood, now there are large wooden crates. The construction workers have been replaced by painters who prime the school’s outer walls. I glance nervously at Jess. She just offers me a firm, reassuring smile. Like everything’s going to be okay. I offer a weaker smile in return. The high school yard is abuzz with chatter when we arrive. It seems like everyone knows about the decree. “Did you hear?” one girl whispers to another. “The Buchanan’s tried to run. They didn’t want to give up either of their sons. The police arrested Mr. and Mrs. Buchanan and took both boys.” I gasp in horror. When I turn to Jesse, I can tell she heard too, but she refuses to let the determination fade out of her eyes. It’s impossible to focus on my classes, and it’s not only me. As I glance around my first hour, I see students fidgeting and whispering when the Mr. Barris isn’t looking. As he writes on the whiteboard, Mr. Barris sighs mid-sentence. He sets his marker down and turns around. “I’m sure you all know by now that this afternoon, some of you will be taken away,” he says. “I suppose I should also tell you that, after today, this school will close. Those of you who remain will be sent to a new school—a new college of sorts.” My eyes widen. College? Those closed down years ago. I wonder if Jesse’s teacher is telling her the same news. She’s always been a stronger student than me. A guilty feeling nibbles as my conscience as I wonder which one of us our mother will choose to give away. At lunch, we sit with our friends, Nick and Lucas. Nick’s face is greener than usual, like he’s going to be sick. “What’s wrong?” I ask him. Jesse shoots me one of her pitying looks, as if I’ve asked a silly question. Nick’s hand trembles. “My dad told my brother and I his choice this morning,” he says. “He’s keeping Ethan.” Something catches in my throat. Tears blur my eyes. “Nick, I’m so sorry,” my sister says. “This is all so terrible.” Lucas, one of the most handsome guys in school, slides a hand over my sisters. “Jesse, I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promises. A twinge of envy passes through me. Lucas has had a crush on Jesse for as long as I can remember, and she’s not even the one who wants a boyfriend. Jesse says nothing, and I resent her silence. Why is she so distant toward him? I’d be all over him, if only he’d look at me. A terrible thought creeps into my mind, a thought from the darkest corners of my heart, but I can’t help it. I can’t help hoping that mom chooses to give up Jesse and not me.