Page 1 of Savage Love
Chapter One
Astra
An array of colorsflashes in my dreams. This is my life partner. They say the dreams you have before you turn twenty-two will show you your future, but there are too many colors to decipher any meaning. I am a chosen wife, a title given to me at the tender age of twelve. My husband cannot be everything, so what is my future? Does this have meaning, or is it coincidental? Am I broken?
I am pulled out of my sleep cycle because it’s time for the citizens of Ossara to rise for their duties. Usually, my day consists of cleaning the group home with the other chosen wives, but today is different. Today is the day I am fitted for my future husband’s chosen outfit. I won’t get to meet him until tomorrow, but he knows everything about me. He has been given my complete file so that he may prepare for our ceremony.
The ceremony is kept a mystery with the chosen wives for the most part, but we know that we will be branded with our husband’s family crest to show ownership. Life partners are chosen so that genetically perfect offspring can be created for future generations. Those with undesirable genetics are given slave titles and forbidden from reproducing by means of sterilization at the peak of puberty.
I was taught from a young age how to be a subservient wife to my life partner. My husband was chosen for me the moment I was given a chosen wife title, so my lessons were adjusted accordingly. Those with slave titles are not afforded the opportunity of education, but the chosen wives are. In my case, my chosen husband wanted me to be well educated but subservient to the highest degree.
Every morning at precisely 8:15, I consume my Hydovita combination. It is a simple capsule pill and a small glass of black, sludge-like liquid. Technology advanced to the point that humans were able to receive all of the nutrients we needed in a day through this simple concoction. After the fallout of the war, the water was unsafe. Fresh food was scarce, and livestock were impossible to keep alive. Humanity was on the brink of extinction, but our founders navigated their way through the chaos to utopia.
This is what I was taught, at least. In reality, I think it is bullshit. I don’t understand why no one else sees what I see. Everyone is blind to the manipulation, so it must be me who is broken. I am often called unruly and hard to control. Over the years, many of my caretakers have told me that I am destined to meet my death through disobedience. A few of them rewarded me withthe knowledge and a firm warning that I am to always keep my mouth shut and do as I’m told. I must blend in and accept the manipulation for what it is if I want to survive.
I have never been so ungovernable that I am ostracized or killed, but I have been punished numerous times. I have been beyond the walls, but only as a punishment. When the government feels as though you do not appreciate what the society provides, you are sent beyond the wall to survive for three days. This essentially means that I’m given a tent and rations before being made to stay in the field outside the wall. I have found peace in this purgatory-like space. I can still see the wall, but I am not in the dense forest, which is said to be the home of savages and cannibals.
During these interludes of time separating what the government conveys as life and death, I have found peace. I stay in my tent so that I am out of the guard’s eyesight, but I always face my entrance towards the dense wood line. I keep the door open and enjoy the sounds hidden in the darkness. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I went in and never came back. Are there really cannibals? Are the savages as cruel as I have been taught? The government lies about the simplest of things within the walls; are they lying about this unseen land? What would life beyond the wall truly be like?
Many punishments are a choice, this or that. Occasionally, I am given the choice between a public whipping and going beyond the wall. When I was younger, I always chose to be whipped because I was terrified of what it would mean to be without protection. Once I experienced this tranquility for the first time, I never chose a whipping again. Upon returning, I will alwaysfeign a deep sense of fear so that they don’t catch on to the peace that I find. I simply mind my manners and pretend to be reformed. Until my next punishment, that is. My reasoning for choosing to go beyond the wall would always be that I want to learn to be better, but really, I just want some peace and fucking quiet. Three days without any sort of human connection? Yes, please. Can we make it four days?
I set the pill on my tongue and hold my nose so I can gulp down the sludge without retching. What I wouldn’t give for something not quite as repulsive. When I finish, I clean my glass and return it to the pickup station for the servants. In actuality, I don’t have to clean the glass. I choose to do so as a way of trying to make their lives a bit easier. They are forbidden from talking or making eye contact, but occasionally they will with me. I make sure that they are not caught disobeying one of their life commands because the consequences would be dire for them. Being caught speaking would immediately result in their tongue being cut out. Eye contact would equal a public whipping. I pray that God would have mercy on their souls if they were caught doing both simultaneously.
My normal attire is a simple lavender-colored shirt and matching knit pants that are tight at the waist and hips but flare out at the ankles. Even my shoes are the same awful color. Your surname and your chosen life path are the same. I was grouped with Lavender as a chosen wife, just as our servants were grouped with Blue. The servant I see most often is Lydia Blue. I am Astra Lavender.
My chosen husband has ordered that I wear a lavender-colored dress, so today I will be fitted for it. The last time I wore a dresswas the day my life path was decided. I slip on my shoes and set out on my journey to a civil servant shop. I was allowed to pick the shop from a list of places my life partner approved. I chose Margot Green because she sees the world the way I do. Corrupt.
As always, I pass the police, who are dressed in red. They are attentive to every movement. They were all fitted with a bionic eye on the day their life path was chosen so that they may prepare for their duties as an adult. They are allowed to receive a life partner, but more often than not, their life partner only survives through the creation of offspring. Afterward, they die. Women are only a means of reproduction and subservience, supposedly. I don’t know what is real and what is not anymore.
I keep my head bowed as I navigate the city streets toward Margot’s shop. Upon arrival, I wait patiently for her to greet me. I know better than to speak to her when others are around. We are not allowed to converse with the servants. Margot has learned a workaround to avoid government surveillance. I know she will be caught and killed one day, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She jokes about how she might go out, and I find humor in the darkness we share.
“Astra,” she says sweetly.
“Hi, Margot! How are you?” I ask as she leads me back to the fitting room.
“You know me,” she smirks. “Just livin’ the dream. You?”
“Oddly excited,” I say.
“Oh?”
“Mhmm. I had a dream last night,” I smile.
“What color did you see?” she asks as I undress for the fitting.
“All of them.”
“I’m sorry?” she asks, stopping to look at me. “You saw all of the colors? Black, red, green, lavender, and yellow?”
“Mhmm. And pink. Pink was the primary color, actually. The others were only accents,” I say. “What is pink?”
“Death,” she says sternly. “Neverevermention that you saw the color pink. Do you understand me?”
“Uh… Yeah,” I say, confused.
“I’m serious, Astra. They will kill you,” she explains softly.
“I understand,” I say. “What should I expect tomorrow?”
