Injunction

Injunction Injunction

Status: Finished

Genre: Young Adult

Houses:

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Young Adult

Houses:

Summary

Dystopia: In a world where everything is controlled and the government is hated upon, Grace struggles to hide her true identity. She is the president's daughter. And when she is forced to leave the government state and move somewhere else, she finds out that the "perfection" her father has been putting on the country isn't so perfect at all.
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Summary

Dystopia: In a world where everything is controlled and the government is hated upon, Grace struggles to hide her true identity. She is the president's daughter. And when she is forced to leave the government state and move somewhere else, she finds out that the "perfection" her father has been putting on the country isn't so perfect at all.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Injunction

Author Chapter Note

Dystopia: In a world where everything is controlled and the government is hated upon, Grace struggles to hide her true identity. She is the president's daughter. And when she is forced to leave the government state and move somewhere else, she finds out that the "perfection" her father has been putting on the country isn't so perfect at all.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 04, 2012

Reads: 56

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 04, 2012

A A A

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Injunction

Peace. Order. Perfection. These are the things we must preserve. These are the things we need in order to maintain our society. Our world is in chaos; people are starting to wonder. Starting to doubt what my father spent so long trying to built. A flawless system filled with no doubts, no wondering, and no chaos.

The people disgust me. They bow in front of my father, but scowl behind his back. They undermine his rule by rejecting every law, every regulation, every decree that he sets out. They don’t understand what they are doing. They don’t understand that our world is already on the verge of collapsing, and if they don’t listen, it will end.  

I stare across the city, the only city that has everything my father wished for. Uniform buildings line up next to each other, each symmetrical and shining a bright silver, along with their beautiful glass windows that reflect everything off of themselves. The people walk with proud faces and zero hesitation. When I’m down there, there are no whispers, there are no stares, there is no distrust. Everything is flawless. Everyone obeys. Everyone listens.

This is home, I think. This is where I’m respected. I belong here.

I squint in the bright sunlight, trying to see past its deadly rays. Beyond the buildings, beyond the people, there is a border. Men with guns stand there, ready to shoot. I can’t see them but I know they are there.

I’ve crossed the border so many times with my parents. During times of trouble, we head out to the other states to set things back into place. My parents never allow me to get out of the car; they tell me it’s not safe. They say that the people out there have no dignity, and that they will do anything and everything in their power to bring us down. The people outside have never even seen my face. I sit and wait until each job is done, and then we’re back at home, and everything is perfect again.

I take a deep breath and walk over to my bed, away from the window and away from the outside world. I close my eyes and just lay there, not knowing what else to do. Yesterday I visited our library, the one downstairs that no one ever uses. For hours and hours, I searched for something to do, only to be called back upstairs for dinner with no luck. Sometimes I just stay in bed all day, knowing that another useless walk around the building won’t do me any good.

I run my hands over my face with a sigh, this is my usual routine and I can’t complain. Complaining would make me no different from the people of the other states. I should be glad that I’m here and not there. I remind myself of this everyday, hoping it will get rid of the insecurities in my mind.

I’m almost drifting asleep when there’s a rap at the door, probably another soldier coming to call me downstairs. I clear my throat, “Come in.” I flatten my hair with one hand and make sure I look presentable. The president’s daughter always has to look perfect.

Sure enough, a soldier peaks his head in my room, cautiously stepping in. “M-Miss Morgan, you’re needed downstairs.” The soldier stutters, he must be new. He doesn’t smile, or even look me in the eye. Soldiers are forbidden to have contact with anyone in the president’s family. Mostly because they come from the other states.

I give the soldier a nod and a smile. “Thank you.” He looks relieved I haven’t said anything else, and he leaves without another word.

As soon as he’s gone, the smile leaves my face. Time for another “family” dinner, while dad talks to the other government officials and mom orders the maids around. All while I sit there, trying to look interested.


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