Mornings are always the worst. The chill in the air seeps into the bunk room and through the thin blanket that’s wrapped tightly around me, doing next to nothing to keep in any warmth. It’s intentional; the entire academy has air conditioning and heating.
If they wanted the assigned bunk rooms warm, they would be. But they don’t. I prefer it that way; it makes it easier to get out of bed and dressed, knowing a hot meal is waiting for me downstairs.
The assigned bunk rooms are at the back of The Academy, spread across two floors. There are forty rooms on each floor, each with two single beds neatly lined with the head of the bed at the back wall, and a bedside table next to them.
When we first arrived, they had ten girls in each room; five bunk beds crammed into ten rooms. Then, as we got older and some girls died during missions, they moved us on to single beds with four in a room, and then eventually two. Two years ago, they changed the rules so that you would bunk with your assigned partner instead of another agent. Since then, Lauren has shared a room with me.
I’m sure she thinks I don’t know, despite her efforts to hide it, but most nights I hear her quiet sobs before falling asleep. Lauren hates The Academy; she makes no effort to hide that she wants to leave. But there are only two ways to do that: die, or we can ‘age out’.
The Overseer promised that when we turn twenty-one, we can return to society and work as normal citizens in Zone Two. As long as we’re still alive, we can work for our freedoms.
Except I don’t understand why anyone would ever want to leave.
Sitting up, I force myself out of bed and grab our assigned training attire. In the fifteen years I have been in The Academy, our uniforms have never changed. They have been perfectly picked for every occasion we may need them, and are practical. Apart from maybe the formal mission attire, that could use some work.
Without waiting for Lauren to wake, I walk out of the bunk sector and down the stairs, straight to the bathing sector.
All of our rooms are labelled sectors: Dining, Bathing, Training, and Mission. The only exception to the rule is our classrooms and assigned bunk rooms.
I am usually the first to wake up, along with Bella. Bella is good; perfect, actually. Especially since she arrived later than anyone else at thirteen, she’s had to work twice as hard to survive and earn her place.
Since joining, Bella has completed twelve missions within the seven years she’s been here. And despite her obvious disadvantages like having half the training as the rest of us, she’s almost reached the same level as Lauren in half the time. She used to tell us stories of things we’ve never seen or heard of before, like the lakes and the theater. But personally, I’ve always wanted to go to the beach.
Maybe I’ll ask to go just once when I age out, that’s all I need. Then I’ll come back and keep working for The Academy.
“Morning,” Bella whispers as if on cue, walking into the bathing sector. I offer her a tight smile before walking into an empty shower cubicle and pulling the curtain.
Our showers are limited to a timer; we have five minutes to wash our hair and body. After that, the water goes cold, and it’s automatically reported to Madam that you went beyond the approved time.
There’s a strategy I’ve found to get the most out of the time we are allotted. First, get naked. I undress from the assigned sleeping uniform, folding it neatly and placing it on the bench outside of the spray before letting my hair down. Step two is to wash my hair with cold water, not warm water.
Turning on the shower, I select the cold button and turn the shower head to face me before flicking my hair out in front of my face, the long, dark brown strands quickly becoming heavy with water. I quickly lather the shampoo in my hands before scrubbing my scalp and ends, and then rinse it out. Only after I’ve shampooed twice do I press the warm water button, making sure my hair is thoroughly rinsed. Then, I stand up straight and turn my back to the spray.
From there, it only takes two minutes to condition and rinse the ends of my hair, and the remaining three minutes to scrub my body clean, ready for a fresh day of training and maybe a mission.
Turning off the spray, I walk out to the bench, drying my hair and body before stepping to the sinks sitting in the middle of the bathing sector. There’s a concrete wall with mirrors that separates the two rows of the sinks.
Taking out my bathing bag, I pull out my toothbrush and hairbrush, quickly brushing my teeth before brushing my hair and leaving it down. Since I’m not currently on a mission, it’s not required that my hair is up, though it is preferred. I like to show off my hair, the brunette (as Bella called it) strands that frame my face thanks to the makeshift haircut Kylie gave me a few months ago, using her combat knife.
As much as we’re not allowed to form friendships or relationships, we do still help each other out.
We’re just smart enough not to get caught.
“Do you have a hairbrush? I forgot mine,” Bella whispers. She’s much taller than most of the other girls here, standing at 5’11. We’re similar in features, both sharing long brown hair. But she prefers to keep hers short, just below her shoulders, while I prefer mine long. But the main difference is her warm brown skin, having all the natural warmth mine never will.
My favourite feature is Bella’s eyes. A deep brown with flecks of green; it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.
Not that I have much to go off.
“Yeah, here.” I hand her the hairbrush, earning me a grateful smile from Bella, knowing if she walked out of this room with messy hair the Major would have a field day and probably put her in the chair. And I need Bella alive, since she’s good at what she does.
“Just keep it clean.”
?
“Those with assigned partners pick a mat, those without stand by me,” our Trainer calls out, pointing to the mats surrounding the training sector.
The warm lights fill the concrete room as her voice echoes. It’s mostly empty in here other than rows of training mats and punching bags hanging from the ceiling in a row across the back wall. At the very back of the training sector, there is a door to the gym where all the sports machines are: treadmills, exercise bikes, stair machines, and weights. Everything we need to keep our fitness up to standard for the Major and Overseer.
