Wynona
written by cinna
Wynona's been chosen for a special program and is dragged away from her forest life in Dunwich to live with the council in Anemone, the capitol of the land. But Wynona's learning to escape the council, and she learns that they are not the only ones in their world...
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
5
Reads
449
Chapter Two
Chapter 2
The car finally stops. I am awoken by a car jerk. I can smell sweet candy. It smells like my house, when my parents are making cotton candy. I know it’s all synthetic though, and thinking about that makes me angry.
There are cherry blossoms outside. But they aren’t cherry blossoms. They are cloud blossoms, made of clouds and cherry blossoms. Genetically enhanced to help clean the air, and make it smell good. They got the idea from some childrens’ book and turned it into a pink, fluffy reality.
The car windows are rolled down, and Quinn is looking out the window, his brown hair flying. The sky is perfect, the sun is shining down evenly, and there are perfect, fluffy clouds in the sky. It doesn’t feel like home, it feels fake. I could probably touch those clouds; they seem so close to me.
Quinn is soaking it all in. He’s barely smelt something good, mainly just the blood of animals and smoking venison. Oh, and candied bacon, but I doubt that counts. For him, this is his first time smelling cotton candy and that sweet smell. For me, it feels fake, like it’s not homemade. I don’t tell him that. It would ruin the moment.
The buildings are not made of stone and wood, they are made of glass and crystal. The top of all of the buildings are rounded or some fancy shape. How do they go to the bathroom without privacy? is my only question. Aitana is still driving. I don’t know what to call her, or how to talk to her, but the window between us is still down. Everyone else’s driver windows or whatever is still up.
Part of me thinks Aitana is different. But another thinks that Aitana is glad for fresh air, and kids who aren’t crying the whole way. She knows her way through the city, and she has probably driven kids last year. We wouldn’t know, as we don’t see them shove the kids into the cars.
The car does not bump up and down, like the mayor’s car in Dunwich. Sometimes we’ll ride his car and it will go bump bump bump as we ride along the roads. But the roads are smooth here, and the potholes are not a problem. People obey the speed limits and there are no speed bumps. That makes me wonder what kind of people these people are.
People who don’t break the rules must live a sad life, but I guess it’s better than fear of a robber jumping through your window and taking things you own. Perhaps that’s why the houses are made of glass, to say, “Hey, we have this stuff, and it’s available to rob, but you won’t rob it cause everyone here is perfect.”. It taunts me and I wish I had the nerve to even do a simple flip into one of their windows.
The car stops. Aitana gets out of the car, and I realize that she is wearing silver gloves, a suit with that same silver silk that is in her gloves. It is overdone with ruffles, and she even tugs at her collar for a second before opening the car door. Her shoes are shiny and black, but she does not look comfortable. I thought that fancy things would be comfortable, especially in this town, but they are not.
“Welcome to Anemone, the city of the council. The weather is clear and sunny, as always.” Her voice seems to drone on, and she wears a bored expression. “We are encased in a dome that controls the weather, stops the outside weather, and ensures the city can survive any aerial attacks.”
I walk out, and the street is concrete. I’ve never felt concrete in my life, but my heels click and clack on top of it. I realize that there is still mud on them from the woods, and that the perfect gray tone of stone is now smudged with brown. I look at Aitana for help, but she continues on. Quinn gets out after me, both of us still wearing our white outfits.
“You will have to change into much more suitable dresses and suits for dinner tonight. Stylists can be found on the fourth floor of the complex, and hairdressers on the same floor. Your closets should already be fitted with a couple of clothes, however, doing your own hair is not recommended. Feel free to wash up and cleanse yourself before attending the meal, which will be at seven.” She starts walking up shiny, quartz steps, and we follow, her voice still droning on.
“You will be on the third floor of the complex, which is where the Dunwich sleeping quarters are located. Meals will be held on the first floor, activities on the second, stylists on the fourth, and sleeping quarters on the third, fifth, and sixth. The viewing platform is on the seventh floor, and the eighth floor is strictly prohibited.” She bites her lip. “Why do they make me say that? Anyways, that is basically an invitation to go to the eighth floor, which you should not do and- nevermind.”
We keep walking, and Aitana waves a golden card in front of a piece of plastic. This is all new to me, and I try to think how it works as the giant glass doors slide open. She walks up to the desk, which is made of polished granite, and a woman with horned glasses looks up and spits out her gum quickly before picking up a pen, trying to look busy.
Aitana laughs. “Cynthia, it’s just me. Don’t go hiding your head every time someone comes by. Anyways, I’m checking in for a…” She has to think for a moment before speaking. “A Quinn Erastos and a Wynona Evermore.” She has remembered our names, which is quite surprising. At least, I think so. Two more golden cards slide out of another piece of plastic. They have our names on it, as well as a number. My number is 304, Quinn’s is 305. On the back, there is a short, simple number. Mine is 6, Quinn’s is 45. I assume these are identification numbers, though I’m not sure what the 300 ones mean.
We load into a glass box, which has sliding doors and a glass handrail. They really can’t get enough of glass here. “Rooms 304 and 305,” Aitana shouts, her diction clear and sharp. Her council accent is more clear now, without the droning that she was forced to do.
The box starts moving, and I almost slam against a wall as it spirals up. Quinn catches me, but I’m still off balance. I manage to grab onto the bar as a 2 flashes on the doors. We spiral up farther, and Aitana seems to maintain perfect balance as me and Quinn slam into each other endlessly. The box finally stops, and we fall to the ground. Aitana giggles slightly, before helping us all up and pushing us forward.
I walk forward, my legs are shaky. There are two numbers next to each other. 304 and 305. They are our room numbers. “Your rooms are in conjunction with each other,” Aitana says, and I look around, and realize that the room is floating. The rooms around us are also floating, and I fight the urge to peer off the edge.
She instructs us to put our cards into a little metal box above the doorknob, then press in a couple of numbers. I press in my birthday, 1129. The door clicks open, and there is a boring white room. There is a door that leads to Quinn’s room, and that is the only fun thing in the room at the moment.
Aitana shows me the control panel, and she shows us how to change the color and style of my room. I choose a lilac color, with drawings of candies and sweets lining my wall. It feels like home… sort of. The bed is lush and round, and it’s bouncy, like my mom’s bouncy jello. Aitana shows me how to use “The Maker” which makes a hot chocolate when she presses some buttons. It does not taste as good as my mother’s.
She leaves us, then reminds us to check our “tablets” for more schedule information. This is quite overwhelming.
I check my closet, first thing. There are some clothes, like Aitana said, but I’m not sure I can fully call them clothes. They are all circled around “sexy”, with curvy hips, long v necks, flowy fabrics. I do not like these at all.
I’m bored, so I knock on Quinn’s door and he lets me in. It is the same with his closet, they are all too fancy for us. His room is a little different than my room, with green trees, mimicking the woods. I guess there is nothing really memorable about his home that he could decorate his room with. It is five, and Aitana said that we had to go at six.
“Well, I think I’m going to go to the stylists…” I feel awkward leaving his room and going to mine, then immediately dashing out the door to the glass box. I hear my door slam and I yell, “Stylists room?”. Quinn dashes in as quickly as possible, and we both slam against the walls. Here we go again.
We finally reach the stylists, and I swear that I will take the stairs next time instead of that killer box. There are already people there, and I sit in the waiting room. It feels reminiscent of the doctors. I can see two Phaetonians kissing each other passionately, and I try to look away.
This is not time to make relationships, I am sure of that. A person with overly big lips asks for someone and one of the two Phaetonians who are kissing get up - well not without one more kiss on the cheek - and goes away. It is the girl, and she has glowing skin and curvy hips. I bet that any of the dresses in my closet would fit her perfectly.
They continue to call “Next!” and the room starts emptying. Everyone is done in about five minutes, all of them looking incredible right after. That Phaetonian girl that we saw before walks out, and she looks stunning. Her green dress is so short and dangerous, that if she was seen walking in Dunswich, she would probably be put in jail.
I get up next. I have been waiting for about fifteen minutes now, and the fat lipped lady eyes me. I shuffle into the room, and I sit down in a chair. The stylist is not a human, it is a robot. “Styles?” It says in a robotic voice.
“Uhhh simple? Cute?” It beeps and boops and immediately gives me a dress. It is baby blue, the top has lace all on top of it, and the dress is all tulle. I reluctantly put it on, and slip into baby blue shoes. I look like a baby blue mess.
The machine starts doing my makeup, and I feel it clean it off. I guess I don’t fit makeup. I look in the mirror and sigh. I suppose it’s the best job it can do. Quinn comes out right after me, and he’s dressed in a simple black suit, his tie a baby blue as well. I don’t know what they find amusing with us matching.
I stand up, ready to get into the glass box, when I feel something throbbing in the back of my head. I don’t usually get headaches, and I don’t usually feel sickly. I don’t get scared of heights easily. My eyes flash.
I feel my knees shake, my legs collapsing. I look up and I am surrounded by clouds, thousands of them. They are choking me, choking me, choking me… then they grope me, twist me around, flip me. I am scared as they toss me between each other. I scream and suddenly, I feel myself slam against a cloud, my eyes closed as I brace for impact.
I open my eyes again, and I feel myself slam against a wall. I am awake. I don’t know what that was. “You okay? It looks like you fell asleep.” Quinn helps me reposition myself, and we keep going down.
“Yeah,” I manage to mutter, rubbing my temples. I stand up, my legs shivering. I barely stand up in my heels, and the floor feels new to me.
“Come on,” Quinn says, helping me regain my balance, and leading me into the dining hall. His hand is warm, and it brings the warmth back to me as I manage to shuffle into the dining hall.
Wynona’s Dress
