Breaking Order: Book 1 (Breaking Order Series)

by Catherine Kopf

  “Read for yourself. Don’t pretend you’re stupid.”

  “I... can’t.” Wes hesitated, giving me back the paper and lowering his head.

  “What?” My eyes widened, “Stop joking around with me! Everyone learns when they’re in school.”

  “I didn’t go to school, remember? My parents left me nothing but tapes. None of them had reading, let alone writing. Henry wasn’t literate either.”

  “But what about military school?” I asked.

  “Why do you think I came for only two days? Aurelia aside, I can’t handle that work!” Wes explained.

  I laughed. “Well, Onlooker, let me give you the hardest lesson you missed in school.”

  I took out a book, but Wes slammed it to the ground.

  “Not today, Calista. Seriously, I want my sister to teach me how to read. Can we wait?”

  “When you get to see her again, you better let me help her!” I placed my hands into my coat pockets, “What’s for lunch?”

  Wes nodded. “Your brother came over and told me how much you’d love to make your own pizza. He handed me a bag, and lo and behold!”

  I had to thank Ambert later. He knew me well. He always had my back. Ambert was always so confident, outgoing, kind, friendly, and he was never afraid to share his feelings with Father.

  I was too scared to talk to anyone. Father put pressure on me, telling me that talking was the worst thing for me to do. Every time I would speak up, he would turn me down, always saying I could never do it because I didn’t know what I was saying. It made me a shy person, feeling I could never have a voice in front of my peers.

  The only two people I didn’t seem to be shy around were Ambert and Wes. Ambert was outgoing, so I understood why he could get me talking, but I found Wes to be a complete mystery. It seemed as if we had some mysterious connection. For all I could care, maybe we did. Maybe we were destined to meet.

  Wes and I made and ate our pizzas, ignoring the cheese or pepperoni regulation. With so many toppings, I was more inspired than ever to create.

  Wes turned his head to the digital clock on the wall. “You better get home.”

  I sighed. I didn't want Father wondering where I was.

  “I'll try to remember our plan,” I said.

  Wes gave a small chuckle.

  “If you weren’t so shy, I think you could do more than you think,” Wes replied.

  I looked at him and produced a small smile before I turned to leave the building.

  When I got home, I was surprised to see my father outside the house. He looked at me with scorn covering his face. His feet paced the front porch.

  “Oh, Calista. I’m glad you’re home,” Father groaned.

  I looked up, trying to find out why he said that. “Father, what is it?”

  ‘Did he find out I’ve skipped medications?’ I gulped. ‘Or school?’

  “Practice any of your fighting tactics today?” Father’s eyebrow raised.

  I looked at his right hand to find a piece of paper squeezed in his fist, obviously upset about Gran and Mom.

  “I…” I could feel my knees rattling, “I was busy strolling. You know how nice fresh air can be.”

  “I hate how rebellious you kids are,” he smiled, “You’re not rebellious like the others, are you, Sweetheart?”

  He got closer.

  My neck got hot, sweat drenching down the back of it. “Where’s Ambert?”

  “Your stupid brother moved to his new job today as a prison guard. He broke a female prisoner out,” Father clenched his teeth, “Ahh... but I should’ve known he would do something like that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Your brother’s too kind— fragile like a string. I intended to break him,” he unraveled the paper in his hand and ripped it in half, “Piece by piece and thread by thread. I should’ve known he was rebellious from the start.”

  I looked in disgust, turning away from my father and looking towards the strips of paper that had fallen on the snow. “What kind of crimes did this girl commit?”

  My father’s face became grim. “An unforgivable one. Your brother will die too once I catch him.”

  My eyes widened. “But he’s your son! You know Ambert uses his kindness for good reasons!”

  “His kindness fools everyone. It makes you feel like you have a voice, but you know having a voice is deadly,” he squeezed his hand on my left shoulder, “It’s as atrocious as dreaming.”

  I nodded. “Yes, Father.”

  He smiled. “Good. Now, I’ll be on my way back to work for an extra shift. If you see your brother, just call me. I can’t have him going around ruining my reputation.”

  Father slammed the door to his black hover car and drove away, missing the mailbox by an inch.

  ‘What am I going to do?’

  I trudged inside the house.

  This girl Ambert rescued... I knew she had to be important somehow. Could she be Aurelia? Thoughts spun in my head. I set my backpack on the table, and I laid down on a couch. I couldn't believe this was happening.

  ‘Ambert…’ I paused my thoughts to let tears fall, ‘What have you done now?’

  I had the same dream as the first night— with our mission to rescue Aurelia, but there one thing new: A girl was now there.

  Her dark brown hair hung down her lower back, frizzy and untamed. Her deep indigo blue eyes glanced everywhere, cautious of everything around her. She was dressed in prison orange, and she smiled in a way that would cause anyone to think twice.

  Her name was one I would never forget: Enya.

  Seventeen:

  “Cal! Cal! Calista, wake up!” Ambert shook me awake.

  My eyes opened with a jolt. I took a sharp breath of air as I sat up on the couch. Breathing heavily, I looked around. Ambert sat in the chair next to my sleeping place, glaring at me with a serious and worried expression.

  “Ambert…” I paused to wipe my eyes, “Why did you come back here? Father's trying to find you and Enya to kill you.”

  His eyebrows shot up.

  “How…how did you know my name was Enya?” a girl’s voice came from the corner of the living room. She narrowed her eyes as she let soda drip on the red couch, leaving another brown stain next to Ambert's original one.

  I sighed. “There was a girl named Enya in my dream tonight… I guess the word just came from instinct.”

  Instead of a classic prison uniform, she wore a grey hoodie borrowed from Ambert’s closet. Otherwise, Enya looked the same, down to the striking blue eyes and fierce auburn-brown hair. It was deja vú. I was sure of it, but I had never seen Eyna before other than the dream.

  Blisters cuffed her wrists from where she was restrained. Prison life was brutal with The Regime, or at least I assumed that. Her chubby and round body shape gave her thicker limbs, and I doubt that helped the cuffs feel snug on her body. On the bright side, Ambert’s hoodie fit her to a tee, especially since Ambert was so small compared to the hoodie’s size.

  Judging by the black circles under Enya’s eyes, she hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep. Being a fugitive didn’t help her rest.

  Maybe Wes was right about me being an oracle. No. There was no way. Wes had to be wrong. I was too much of a freak already for that to be true, right?

  “You have some talent, Cal,” Ambert replied.

  I laughed sarcastically. “Let’s get to the part where you tell me what’s going on. Father told me you started your new job as a prison guard today and you broke her out of prison. What has gotten into you!?”

  Ambert covered my mouth.

  “Shh! Pipe down or you’ll wake the whole district,” Enya ordered.

  “Enya was singing in the square. In Wellspring,” Ambert took his hand off of my lips, “Her father sent her here to be killed publically.”

  “Wellspring… that’s on the other side the country, isn’t it?” I asked.

  Ambert nodded.

  Enya kicked up her feet onto the red leather furnit
ure, “I was still taken here for public execution. It’s not fair to be a Dreamer and get arrested because you show your talents. Let alone die for it.”

  “It isn’t right, but why did you break her out today and not when we go help Wes find his sister?” I asked.

  “Father was going to kill her tonight, Cal. It would’ve been too late,” Ambert explained.

  I fell silent.

  Enya slammed her soda on a table nearby. “They called my singing an unforgivable crime. Please, an automatic death sentence? Music is freedom to me— the only one I’ve got. I hate it when everyone bottles themselves up like The Regime wants. Besides, if Dreamers take initiative, The Regime can’t catch all of us, right?”

  She sounded like Wes, except instead of describing art, she was describing music. Unlike Wes, she had a fire to her, but I could tell she was a Dreamer at heart. Her words flowed like Wes’ poetry, filled with emotion and meaning.

  Every Dreamer I met made me want individuality and to dream along with them. It made me wonder if Ambert was a Dreamer. Was kindness considered a special talent?

  “So, this Wes,” Enya crossed her arms, “Is he a Dreamer?”

  I nodded. “His parents were killed when he was small, but he lived without the regulations in a warehouse. He’s sixteen.”

  Enya chuckled, “He got lucky. Any children under the age of ten are relocated after their original Dreamer parents die. That’s what happened to me.”

  Enya sunk into her chair and lowered her gaze.

  “How old were you?” I asked.

  “They didn't bother to tell me. Younger than four for sure." She prevented tears from spilling from her eyes.

  ‘How could The Regime do this?’

  “Cal, you don’t think Aurelia was taken into a foster family like Enya, do you? She could be anywhere...” Ambert spoke in a gentle tone, sensitive on the subject.

  I looked up, interrupting Ambert. “Go and hide with Wes. It’s not safe for either of you here.”

  Ambert nodded and gave me a hug. I needed one with Gran and Mom gone. The embrace refreshed my spirit.

  Enya tapped her foot with impatience. "Come on! We can't just stand around here like bait!"

  Ambert nodded. He and Enya snuck out through the back door. I watched as they faded into the distance, leaving me alone in the dark house.

  For once, I was glad that I was by myself again. Ambert, Enya, and Wes would be safe for tonight. I had to be wary with Father around. I couldn’t let him know I saw them. No one needed to get hurt because of me.

  Darkness attempted to steal me away from something I was reaching deep within myself. The question was what. Was it what Wes, Enya, and Ambert told me? Because of them, I understood what it was like to be a Dreamer.

  They taught me everyone was different. It all starts with one choice, and I made mine.

  ‘Dreamer or not, I’m going to support my friends!’

  Wes told me dreams made you special. Enya pushed for the freedom in dreams. Ambert. How could I have forgotten about him? Ambert taught me dreams draw friends together. He didn’t break Enya out of prison just for kindness. He broke her out because he felt a connection with her dreams.

  Father was right about one thing: kindness is a web, but not one of trickery. Kindness is the web connecting people’s dreams, tangling them with love and friendship. After grasping at it for so long, I would do anything to not lose those truths again. Even if it cost me my life.

  ‘I won’t give up.’

  The hover car pulled into our driveway, and the engine hummed to a stop.

  Father entered the house slamming the door behind him. Crossing his arms, he moaned a single sentence under his breath. “Where is he?”

  I barely concealed my smile. The longer Father was clueless on where Ambert was, the happier I would be.

  Father stared at me with a cold glare. “Any word from your brother?”

  My heart was pounding. “No, I have no clue where he is.”

  “I’m just glad you aren’t out to kill me too. My reputation might be ruined by your brother’s radical attitude. Rebellion, dreams, differences, and kindness are the reasons we live in a broken society,” Father looked to the couch to see Enya’s soda cup sitting on the table.

  He raised an eyebrow and lifted the drink off the table. Condensation flowed down the side of the cup, dripping on Father’s hand. If that wasn’t a sign of it being recently put there, nothing else was.

  “What’s this drink doing here?” Father asked, pointing to the object.

  A bead of sweat ran down my neck. I swallowed a lump in my throat.

  “I had a drink, Father. I couldn’t stop thinking about how Ambert’s betrayed us.” I tried not to give away my guilt. This was way worse than the time I stole from his sweets jar.

  “I knew you would understand. Take your Antiserum and get some sleep. I’m going out on patrol again. I’ll find your brother, and when I do, I’m going to kill him and that girl he’s with. It’s what they deserve,” he smiled, “I hope to see you by my side.”

  I nodded, and Father turned away from me to look out the window.

  “Good luck…” I whispered.

  “Sweetheart, I see a lot of myself in you. You might even take my place one day if you’re training keeps up. I’m proud to call you a daughter,” Father replied.

  I nodded slowly.

  “Your brother though… his death will be miserable. He’ll be an example,” Father said.

  I turned away to let a tear run down my face.

  I could hear him as he stomped out of the house. He slammed the door, taking the rage in his heart with him.

  I was back at the state I was at before. I cried louder, sobbing as if Ambert, Enya, and Wes had already been caught. But they hadn’t yet. They still had a chance as long as I kept my mouth shut. I couldn’t break my promise. How could I? I wouldn’t abandon my dreams, my friends, or my brother. I would help Aurelia and Wes reunite.

  My father sickened me even more than before. His view on reality was one-sided, like a distorted picture. He saw the evil in the world, and he only cared about his reputation. He must have been either jealous of dreams, or someone had hurt him long ago with them. Whatever happened hardened his heart.

  I wouldn’t suffer the same fate, no matter how long he attempted to brainwash my feelings. Wes was right. If I wasn’t so shy, I could do more than I thought I could. I just didn’t know how to break out of that habit.

  I returned to my sleep, on guard, yet relieved. Peace finally came, but I would wake up even earlier to talk to my friends.

  Images of Enya passed through my head. They didn’t look recent by the blurred and dull-colored surroundings. Her body appeared barely younger by the lack of scars and tiredness, but it still carried the same toughness and curvy figure as the girl I just saw.

  Blood covered her face and a gun pointed at her head. A young man, slightly older than her, held the weapon in his hand with a stern, cynical glance on his face. Dressed in black and red attire, he had all the makings of one of The Regime’s officers.

  “For a Dreamer, you’re potbellied, freak!” the officer’s voice echoed in my head.

  “Please, Steven… stop this…” Tears streamed down Enya’s face.

  “Stop? You’re the sloppy Dreamer who deserves to die.”

  As I looked around, another figure carrying some sort of object loomed in the background. Stars positioned over my head, rotating rapidly. The sound that came from the object quivered in a bewitching array of tones. A long slender object stroked against the fatter, stringed one laying against the figure’s neck.

  Enya’s surroundings of teasing and public floggings cracked near my feet and shattered like a broken mirror. Tiny sequences remained in the shards below me, though not as vivid as before. The stars still hung over me. Enya’s scenes— her memories— left me with a single phrase whispered in the darkness:

  “Shattering suns, shattering displays… confidence comes in many
ways. Thus in which turns the fire’s eruption, a spark of passion breaks order and corruption.”

  If what this dream meant what I thought it did, Enya lived a tough life to get where she was. Not only that, but Enya would help us spark The Regime’s downfall.

  I wasn’t giving up on our plan just yet.

  Eighteen:

  The next morning, the quiet in the house loomed over me. For once I felt completely alone. Each one of my steps echoed in the halls. No one was there to greet me like Gran, Mom, and Ambert always did. They would never be able to come back to the place they knew as home.