text: It was dark outside the locked window of the small room. The curtains were drawn and a light layer of dust covered the wooden desk in the corner. A young girl was asleep in a rickety old bed. A beat up teddy bear gripped tightly in her small arms. She was mumbling in her sleep. Another girl in a different bed started to stir and wake up. A heavy rain started to hit the thin window. All the girls in town were kept here, in this house. The community had homes for children, where they lived away from their families. The home for girls and the home for boys lived on opposite sides of the community. The adults lived in a circle around the community center. All the buildings were the same apart from the center, there was a large fountain that the children play in on hot days. The children lived alone in a large building on the edge of town. With food delivered to them three times a day, like the rest of the community. Once they turn eighteen they would be given a house in the circle and a spouse that would be assigned to them by the Chief of the community. The girls shivered and clutched their stuffed animals closer to their chests for comfort, knowing what the day ahead would bring. When they were younger, the children had dreams of happiness and freedom, now they were plagued by nightmares of childhood. Something the adults in the community don't remember, because they had forgotten. No one remembered their childhoods. Only the Chief of the community had the valuable knowledge of what it was like to feel fear. The children had to learn that fear was bad, and that it was wrong, that they could recognize fear and know how to avoid it in everyday life. Everyone in the community has the knowledge of fear inside them somewhere, they all learned it from a young age. it just needs to be called forward to appear to the average adult. Children had tried to remind people of fear, but those rebels were never seen again. It is said that they were sent to a place called, The Sanctuary. To go through more training and enlightenment. The window rattled with the rain as the girls slept, prisoners in their minds for the time being. Facing their worst fears over and over again, until they knew not to be afraid. Some were afraid of being alone, some were afraid of the dark, a few were afraid of judgment, so every day they all had to face their fears. One at a time they would go into a room with an older child and act out a scenario where they would feel fear. They ate their meals in silence, not wanting to frighten each other with words or actions. On Sundays they dressed in their fancy community issued clothes and would go into town for a service called, Cherish. Where the entire community came together in the center and told stories of joy and there was music and dancing and fresh food and everyone cherished each other. The Chief of community, who only attended once a year, in June. June was the month of sun, where the entire community and the authorities, and the workers, all came together and had a feast for a whole week. All the children looked forward to June, because they could forget about fear, forget about all the days of suffering they learned about and learned how to push fears away. And every June, at least one brave child would stand up and give a speech of fear, and once they were done, the Chief would come and her security guards would drag the child, kicking and screaming, away to The Sanctuary . Then the Chief would say an apology and everyone would go back to normal. But the children knew the apology was empty, it was not real, it was not sincere, there was no sympathy or care in the words, it was just a mask to make sure no one stepped out of line and made sure no one made the people of the community feel afraid or sad or angry or frustrated. Only happiness was allowed. But the children wondered, if all you feel is happiness all the time, do you know what happiness is? Are you happy? The children felt happy every now and then, not all the time every day, but adults didn't know any other feeling, and if they did, they just assumed there was something wrong with them and applied for medication. The children were only allowed medication for sickness, like the common stomach flu or a fever. A young feeble girl lay awake in the corner of the cold, dark room, her name was Abigail. She clutched a plush cat to her chest, just like the other girls. But she knew she was different to the other girls, and with June and the festival of sun right around the corner, she was planning on making a speech about fear, she thought she would be the one to break the grain and free emotions back into the world, free fear and let it flow through the community. She was twelve years old and the smallest of all the girls in her age group. She didn't eat much and exercised only when mandatory. She played with dolls at free time just like the other kids, and wrote in her journal before bed like everyone else, but something deep down felt different. When she wasn't playing with dolls or participating in the activities, Abigail found herself staring across the dusty landscape at the home for boys, wondering what it would be like to live there, wondering if she'd be happier with boys. She had met boys a few times, usually at Cherish or the June festivals. They seemed to understand her, be her, but better, happier. And every time the sky was clear and she could see across town, Abigail would sit by the rusty window and think what life would be like if she were born a boy. That was her fear, that was what she faced in the small room with the older girl every day, fear of not being accepted by the community. And every night, just like the other children, she had dream after dream of people laughing at her, shunning her, just for wanting to be a boy, for wanting to be happy. She wondered if anyone else in the community felt the way she did. Felt afraid secretly, deep down inside them, a rooted fear that they didn't know what lurking, in the darkest corner of their mind. If they felt afraid everyday and just thought that was what happiness was. What if someone lived in fear or sadness and just assumed that was what being happy felt like? These were the things Abigail wondered at night, staring at the blank ceiling, waiting for the nightmares of fear, just like the other girls. And soon enough they swept over her like a wave pushing a surfer back to the beach. But the beach she arrived to was not a paradise like the ones in books, it was filled with people laughing at her, shunning her, just for wanting to be happy. The morning came slowly. Abigail was the first awake, as usual. She got out of bed and went to the window, the rain had stopped and the morning glow of sunlight greeted her as she opened the shaggy curtains. A layer of rain covered everything in sight, making it shine and sparkle. Across town she could make out the outline of a tall brick building identical to this one. He sighed and opened the window and took a seat on the damp sil. She looked down and saw people starting to go about their days. The worker people delivering breakfast and newspapers to front stoops of the modern houses. The homes for children were the oldest buildings in the community, and had a different style to them. No one questioned it, they had learned not to question anything from a young age. It was the first day of the sun festival. Abigail saw workers hanging up decorations in the square. She went back into the cold room and shut the window. A worker would be there soon to escort the children to the festival. The other girls were awake now, moving about, making their beds and getting into their nice clothes. Abigail went to her small, two drawer, dresser and took out a bundle of clothing labeled, Festival of sun, day 1; Abigail. Everyone had the same outfits but in different sizes, so each clothing delivery had to be labeled with the persons name and for what purpose they were to wear the clothes. Abigail put on her blue shirt, green over shirt and a pink skirt and followed the other girls down to the food hall. They were chatting for once, picturing what it would be like to be happy for a whole week. Abigail sat with the other twelve year olds at their assigned table. Abigail did not speak, she was afraid of being judged for her words of choice. A worker came eventually and the children got into single file lines to walk to the square. There was music playing, voices singing of joy and love. People milling about freely, and fresh food, imported from the community supply chain! This was a special treat for everyone. Usually the ingredients were imported and the workers had to cook the meals. The girls broke their lines and started to walk about, taking in the outside world. Abigail stayed off to the side, preparing her speech about fear. A boy came over to her and smiled, "I'm Hugo." He said. "Abigail." She replied simply. "You know, I've always wondered what it would be like in the girls home. Can you describe it?" Hugo asked, taking a bite of a meat dish he had on a plate. "It's dark and cold, almost like the prison on the outskirts of the community. We have doll houses and assigned stuffed animals to play with at free time." Abigail shuttered just thinking about it. "Fascinating." Hugo said. "Not really. It's all I've ever known, it's normal." Abigail shrugged. "Do you ever wonder," Hugo took a deep breath and continued, "What if there are people outside the community? People unlike us, who have access to all emotions." "I've never really thought about that." Abigail admitted. "I just want to be happy. Real happiness, not like the adults here, they don't know what joy is." "What makes you think that?" Hugo asked. "They don't have anything to compare it with. They don't no sadness or anger, or fear. So they just assume whatever emotion they feel the most is happiness." "Wow. That's never crossed my mind before." Hugo looked up at the sky, as if contemplating existence. "That's why I'm making a speech this year." Abigail admitted. She held out a folded piece of paper with her speech written on it. "I've never met anyone who wanted to go to the sanctuary." Hugo's eyes grew wide. "I don't want to. I'm standing up for whats right. I'm bringing emotions back to people." Abigail explained. "You're brave." Hugo said quietly. "Don't be silly. Brave doesn't exist. Surely they teach that at the boys home." Abigail scoffed. "Yeah, they do. I just don't believe them." Hugo shrugged. "I've read books about it late at night. Bravery is exactly what you're doing." "What else is bravery?" Abigail asked curiously. "Doing things or saying things that scare you. Like, for example, not being happy with being a prisoner in your body and trying to break free." Abigail thought for a second. "I'm doing that." She muttered to the boy. "I'm breaking free and wanting to become a boy, a boy that has emotions and feelings and real happiness." The boy looked at her with a worried look. "You are brave. But, not every story had a happy ending." He advised. Abigail opened her mouth to reply, but a bell sounded, signifying it was time to feast. Everyone sat on long rows of pick nick tables laden with food and drink. Abigail took a deep breath and stood on her seat. "Hello." She said loudly. Everyone turned and looked up at her. "My name is Abigail. I want to tell you all," She unfolded the piece of paper and read out, "Happiness is not what you think it is. Sadness is not what you think it is. Fear is real, and you all need to be able to feel!" She heard footsteps and was tackled down within seconds by guards. They knocked her out and carried her away to a truck to go to The Sanctuary. Hours later she woke up in a cell, her hands were tide and her left ankle was chained to the bars of the wall. There was nothing in the room apart from her. "Help!" She called out. No one answered. She felt afraid like she had never felt it before. It was so much worse than her practice, she felt helpless and weak, like nothing could be done. "You know more than you're supposed to Abigail." A rough voice spoke from somewhere in the room, but she couldn't pinpoint it. "Who are you?" She asked the darkness. Gripping the bars of the cell tightly. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." The voice advised. "Do what?" Abigail looked behind her. "You are brave young one." The voice sighed. "So I have to do this." Abigail was puzzled for a second, then a bolt of electricity ran through the cell and into her hands, through her body, and switched off her brain. Her body hit the stone floor, twitching for a few seconds until she fell still. This was the Sanctuary. A death trap for those who break the rules of the community. For rebels.