The Solution

She wished he'd let her keep bunny.

This is what she thought whenever it was her day with the locket.

The locket was small and offered no comfort. Bunny was soft and warm. Bunny was her friend. The locket was a cold, hard piece of a childhood that was no longer hers.

Eric was right, of course. Even though she'd never say that to his face. Bunny would've been found. There'd have been no hiding bunny during the matron's sweeps. He'd have been found and burned, and she'd have faced correction at best, or more likely - expulsion.

Clinging to the past was an Unforgivable. There wasn't food or space for anyone who'd dare commit such a selfish act.

So in the absence of bunny, the locket would have to do.

Sometimes, with it clutched tightly into her palm, she could pretend they were still together. Sometimes if she breathed in deep she could pretend she was smelling the locket as it rested on her mother’s neck. She could smell her mother’s shampoo and warm, clean skin.

She breathed in deep, losing herself for a moment. The strong whiff of the cleaning agents in the bucket she was carrying snapped her out of her fantasy.

"Lost you for a second, Ella." Her brother smiled down at her.

Eric was almost a head taller now, even at just a year older than her. Sometimes when she looked at him, she didn't see the same Eric that grew up with her in that house. His hair was shorter and cut close to his scalp. The scar that ran from his eye to his lip pulled the skin tight, giving him a perpetual smirk on the left side of his face.

Still half-lost in memories, she said "I was thinking of --"

Eric's face twitched and she caught herself.

Nostalgia was another Unforgivable. She'd already been corrected for that.

It had only been a one-day session, as nostalgia was seen as a lighter error for children who'd just found their way to the Home. But a second offense would bear a minimum of 72 hours.

"Of...dinner tonight." She finished. She felt a touch of pride when Eric's face relaxed.

See? She thought. He could trust her. She knew the rules. Eric wasn't the only one who'd grown up this year.

They walked through the gates of the Home, into a courtyard they hoped one day to see beyond.

A matron met them there. She hardly acknowledged their existence, her face displaying no signs of welcome or malice. To be a matron one had to attain perfect control. Some of the other kids said the matrons self-correct each night to ensure they never strayed from the Solution. Ella thought that had to be impossible. No one would willingly self-correct, let alone every night. Still, when she saw one of their faces, the rumor came floating back to the surface of her mind.

"Girl, the stairs are filthy. Start there. Boy, the walkway. Your meal is at 1. This will all be clean by then."

She gave them barely a nod.

If today was like any other day, those were the last words they'd hear from her until 1 when their meager food would arrive. Of course, she'd be there all morning, watching them from her post. She would say nothing and she would take no breaks.

If she judged their efforts poorly they wouldn't know until they returned to their room that night to await their second meal. If their efforts were deemed worthy, they'd receive a full plate. If not, their rations would be trimmed according to their perceived efforts.

No one ever received a full plate.

Laziness was the Unforgivable that required the most monitoring. A child could learn to stop many things, but to truly give oneself to the cause and eradicate laziness in full was one of the last steps before moving on from the pen.

Children who graduated from the pen moved into the Home. Once there, they would be evaluated by the Firms. Any one of which it would be an honor to join. After all, the Firms had saved them. When the country was lost, the Firms showed the way. They provided clear solutions to problems that had once seemed impossible. Hunger, homelessness, war, sickness. One-by-one the Firms had eradicated the problems of humanity. Except for that last, lingering issue. Humanity itself. The imperfection of existence was something that hadn't been solved for yet. But with the matrons to guide them, the children would emerge from the many Homes across the country, as free from the burdens of their inner-animal as possible.

Ella understood the goodness of the Firms. The world had been an uncertain place before. But, she still missed her mother and father. Though Eric wouldn't allow her to talk about them, they lived in a dark corner of her mind, a corner she refused to clean out, no matter how much correcting she may face for holding onto those memories. In her weaker moments she felt her inner-animal challenge the wisdom of the Firms. Their Solution had taken her parents from her and placed her here.

She felt her face flush. She'd forgotten her orders and stopped mid-way up the stairs as anger tensed her body.

The matron’s watchful eyes were on her now.

Ella hoped the matron couldn't see that she was in an emotional state. She wondered how much of tonight's meal this outburst could cost her. Maybe the matron would blame it on the weight of the bucket she hefted up the stairs?

Ella set the bucket down and wiped her hands on her dress. She shook out her arms playing the part of a too-tired servant girl who surely needed all of her meal if she were to continue giving her best to the tasks given to her.

Satisfied with her performance, she went to grab the bucket again but lost her footing on the narrow stairs.

She danced around clumsily but there wasn’t room on the step for both the bucket and her two unsure feet.

"Girl!" The matron called out.

Ella twisted her head involuntarily at the sound of the matron breaking her silence, and that proved to be too much for her to have any chance at continuing her balancing act. One foot knocked the bucket over, the other lost its place on the step. She landed on her backside and slid down the stairs to the landing.

Ella stood and stared dumbly at the mess she'd created. Her bucket was empty, its caustic contents pooling on the stone steps. She didn't know the punishment for ineptitude but she was certain she'd find out tonight.

The matron walked toward her. Ella stood frozen, a tear rolling down one cheek. She felt a sting in her leg where she'd rubbed against the stairs on her way down. Her hand drifted to her thigh and felt cool skin instead of the cloth of her pants. Her heart jumped! The pants had split right at her pocket. The same pocket that had --

"Girl. What is that?" The matron hovered over her now, looking past Ella to the ground where they were honed in on...

The heart-shaped locket!

"It's--"

Before Ella could finish, Eric was interjecting. He'd leapt from his bucket and sprinted to the matron.

"Mine!" Eric yelled.

The matron's expressionless gaze went from locket to girl to boy.

She remained silent, her face not revealing the calculations of correction and punishment that must be whirling through her mind.

"It's mine!" Eric repeated. His expression turned to anger. "Where did you find this, girl?"

Ella was confused. Girl?

She didn't understand what he was saying or why he was so angry.

"It must've fallen from my pocket on the walk, matron! I bet she was going to submit me for contraband when I wasn't looking."

Contraband? Submit him?

These were things she'd never dream of. To do something like that could mean she'd never see her brother again. The only family she had. To tell a matron about the locket would be to sentence them both to a hopeless fate.

Then it clicked. The two of them. If the locket was theirs, they'd both face the Head of House. But if Eric could sell this story, there was still hope for her.

The matron watched them.

Eric continued, "Little filthy thief! That was my secret." He pivoted, "Matron, you must understand. I was going to be rid of it. I just needed a few more days to purge the memories. It was only a tool. It was my own form of....self-correcting. I would never..."

She waved her hand, cutting him off.

"Enough lies."

Eric's face fell.

The matron breathed deeply. She looked at Eric's slumped shoulders, then to Ella.

When their eyes met, Ella could see something flicker. A hint of emotion couldn't help but escape her icy blue eyes.

The matron nodded to herself.

"Do you corroborate?"

There was a long silence, broken by the matron.

"Girl. Do you corroborate?"

Ella looked on, terrified. She stared back at the matron, then snuck a look at Eric. His eyes pleaded with her.

"I corroborate."

"And you understand that by doing so, you are agreeing to any punishment this boy will face, up to and including his expulsion?"

A tear formed in the corner of her right eye. She was trapped. To deny the matron was to damn herself, to agree was to sell out her brother, the only person she had left to care about in this world. She didn't think she had the strength, but she couldn't let Eric's sacrifice be for nothing.

"I understand." She pulled herself together.

"The locket fell from the boy's pants on the walk here. I picked it up, put it in my pocket, and planned to hand it off to you during the lunch hour when he was eating. The locket is wrong, it is Unforgivable. It is a burden that all are better off without."

The matron took this in. And Ella saw it again, that light that hadn't been corrected out from behind her eyes. The light that told her, ‘don't lose hope yet.’

The matron left the two of them at the foot of the stairs and walked back to her position.

Ella shuddered with relief. It was over! She'd let them go!

But childish hope is Unforgivable too.

The matron pressed the button next to her post.

There was no yelling. No struggle.

Two large men came and took Eric. They also brought something for her.

A new bucket, full of suds.

The matron spoke again, "You'll need to do the stairs and the hallway, girl. I'd expect you'll work through second meal."

Ella's tears flowed as she cleaned. She would grieve him today while the water from her face could mix with the soapy fluids she spread around the floor of the Home. His sacrifice couldn’t be in vain. That much she knew. She allowed herself these tears because she could hide them, but when she was finished with her tasks, she would assume a mask much like the matrons wear. She would do what was needed.

Tonight she would go back to the pen, but before she entered her bunk she would ask the attending matron for a small crop so that she may correct the memory of the day from her mind.

Then from her mind, she’d correct bunny. She’d visit the dark corner where she kept her parents, the locket, and Eric and correct it all.

She’d never feel out of control again.

She’d never feel this loss again.

She’d do it now and be done with it.

With enough correction she would one day become a matron, and when there was a moment like today, she would make sure there was no light left behind her own eyes. She would not show mercy. She would embrace the Solution.