Chapter 1
Charlie
The one constant in my world was the view beyond the thick-paned glass. Wildflowers danced in the breeze, their colors soft against the sunlit field. I couldn’t see the bees, not from where I sat, but I knew they were there—hovering around the towering sunflowers like they always did.
Sometimes, I wondered what it’d be like to be a bee, or one of the many birds. To be free to go wherever one desired. To feel the way the world went on while one got to explore every aspect that it had to offer. I wondered what I’d feel like to have the air blow through a set of wings and carry me off into the distance, never to return to this place again.
A deep breath ghosted from my lungs, shoulders deflating.
I’d never be free. I’d never get the chance to go past the tall wired fence that surrounded my prison. I’d only ever get to see it from a distance. Either from here where I sat on my bed, or out by the garden. I’d never get to raise my head to the tall sunflowers, seeing the color or texture up close.
I wasn’t willing to try to escape like a few others have. The barbed wire that borders the top of the fence around the entire property was more than enough deterrent, at least for me. Not to mention the cameras that watched our every move.
For our safety, of course.
I didn’t think about it most days. Not directly. It sat somewhere behind my ribs, quiet and heavy. The way a bruise waits under skin. But sometimes, like now, it pressed harder.
But still, the feeling of wanting to explore the world was always going to be there. It didn’t matter that I got to have as many books as I wanted to read, or as many documentaries as I could possibly want to watch.
I was stuck here, in a prison-like facility, until either I died or an Alpha decided to come and claim me.
I was leaning more towards death. Death was the easy way out, and I’d happily take it.
My purpose was set in stone. Serve the Alpha. Occasionally a Beta, if called. The rest of my time belonged to chores. Scrubbing stone floors until my fingers cracked, hauling buckets that sloshed cold against my knees, training until my limbs burned.
Schooling wasn’t part of my schedule. I’d asked once, voice low, eyes steady. The answer came fast.
No.
They said I didn’t need it. That obedience mattered more than understanding. But my mind didn’t stop.
Most of us weren’t allowed to learn. That wasn’t new. But I’d hoped. Just a little.
I shouldn’t have.
Hope didn’t belong here.
And intelligence? That was a threat.
A sharp ding cut through the stillness of my room, bouncing off the concrete walls like a command.
The electric calendar blinked near the door, its soft blue glow casting shadows across the floor. It tracked everything. Breakfast, shower, clients. Each appointment came with a lead time, just enough to shift my headspace before I was expected to perform.
It even listed what was required. Clothing. Demeanor. Silence or speech.
I liked that part. Seeing ahead. Knowing what version of myself I needed to be.
It helped me prepare mentally and emotionally. To slip into the right headspace before someone else decides how I should be used.
Not that anyone passing me in the hall would know.
They never did.
Like most days now, I didn’t bother looking at the alert, already knowing what the appointment was. It was Wednesday, the same time as all the other weeks before this one. The same client would be here in thirty minutes, ready to use my body once again. I’d be required to not utter a word; told not to make a sound. To just be quiet and comply with what the client demanded.
There were times when I wished I hadn’t been born as I am. I knew there was no way out of this type of life. I knew that there were other places that were worse than the one I was placed in by a set of parents who detested me.
Not that I ever knew my parents. Most of us didn’t.
