


Twins

by BrownEyes11



Category: Uglies
Genre: Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-08-16
Updated: 2010-11-27
Packaged: 2013-09-15 06:21:06
Rating: K+
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,438
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5306123/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1897391/BrownEyes11
Summary: In the world of the future, only one child can be concieved to a family every twelve years. This is to keep the earth safe, prevent overcrowding. There is, of course, the issue of multiples. Please read, it's better than it sounds!





	1. Chapter 1

Author's Note- This idea has been running circles in my head for some time now, and it refuses to go away, so I'm going to put it down on paper and hope that shuts it up!  enjoy!

**Disclaimer- The fabulous Scott Westerfield owns every ounce of this fabulous set-up, but the characters are all my own!**

In Pretty society, each Middle Pretty has only one child, every twelve years. They are incapable of handling more than one child at once, a fully welcome side effect of the bubblehead lesions, and a step along the road to end overcrowding.

But there is, of course, the issue of multiples. Each Middle Pretty is given a special pill to prevent more than one child from being conceived. But, as with most safety measures enforced by the City to keep the cancer that is man from once again poisoning the Earth, it does not always work one hundred percent.

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Beka Silverstream was pregnant. Her and Siam hadn't meant for it to happen, but it did.

"Okay," said the middle pretty technician, typing a few commands into the computer and smiling warmly at the young couple, "let's have a look at your baby."

She slid the sensor nimbly over Beka's bulging stomach, her warm eyes fixed on the monitor. "See," she said, pointing to a blotch on the monitor, "there's your baby's foot. And there's the head, and there's…" she trailed off, her eyes widening, her mouth forming a silent O.

"I'll be right back."

As the door closed behind the technician, Beka turned to Siam. "What do you think is the matter?" she asked, worried. Her forehead was creased with concern, and Siam did not like to see her that way.

"I'm sure it's just fine," he assured her, not a doubt in his mind, and her forehead smoothed, a smile playing over her full, perfect lips.

"Okay," said a man, entering the room. "Let's see what the problem is here." He walked over to the machine and picked up the sensor, gliding it over Beka's stomach just as the previous technician had done.

"Mmmmhhhmm." He mumbled, his forehead creasing. "Oh, dear."

"What?" asked Siam, straining to see the monitor, trying to make out the problem in the sea of blue botches on the screen. "What is it?"

"Miss," the technician said, sounding worried, "there's a little bit of a problem here. We're going to have to do some more tests."

At the look of panic on the young couples face, the technician smiled. It was just a little too bright, a little too forced. "There's nothing to worry about," he assured them, and they smiled too, relieved.

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The ultrasound technician ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. It couldn't be true. He was sure they had eliminated this possibility.

His footsteps echoed off the linoleum floor, resounding throughout the nearly empty building.

He reached the end of the hallway and pressed a button on the elevator, Conference Room B. As the elevator descended, the man tried to think of other things. It was his wife's birthday tomorrow. He needed to get her a gift. The paint on the ceiling of the elevator was chipped. His shoe was undone.

He reached down to tie his shoe, just as the doors whooshed open. He strode down the hallway, and entered the Conference Room through an unmarked door.

"Bentley." Said one of the men sitting around the table. "Glad you could join us. What is the problem?"

"I just did an ultrasound," said the man. "I found something…unusual. I'm worried." Bentley eased himself into one of the swivel chairs bordering the conference table. The other men nodded, a sign for Bentley to continue.

"This woman," Bentley glanced at the file in his hand, "Beka Silverstream. I believe that she's expecting twins."

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Siam Silverstream moved his hand gentley over his wife's protruding stomach, marveling at the gentle kicking of their unborn child.

"Can you feel the baby?" Beka asked, giggling. Siam nodded wonderingly, and took Beka's small hand in his own, placing it lightly on her stomach. Her face lit up as she too felt the kicking.

"Siam, this is amazing," she sighed.

"I know," he replied, grinning, "totally bubbly!"

Beka struggled to sit up, and Siam grasped her hands, pulling her into sitting position. "I'm starving!" Beka cried, giggling. "This pregnancy stuff is so hunger-making!"

Siam helped her to her feet, and supported her as they walked into the kitchen, a study of stainless-steel and glass.

_What would you like to eat?_ asked the kitchen.

"Marshmallows!" cried Beka. "And peanut-butter!"

Beka giggled at Siam's side-long glance, a high, trilling, careless sound. "I'm hungry! I'm eating for two, you know, although sometimes it feels like it must be more than that!"

Thay both laughed at the impossibility of her words. More than one baby. Ha!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N- I'm really excited about this story. I don't know why, I just feel like it has a lot of possibility, so keep the reviews coming in! Sorry for all the dividing lines. I don't usually write this way, but I believe it's necessary for this story, at least at this stage. Also, I'm debating names for the twins. Two girls. I'm thinking about Mercy and Clair. What do you peeps think?**

**Disclaimer- Do I even have to say it?**

Emilee—just Emilee, for neither she, nor anyone else here, could remember their last name, from so long ago—gazed out over the barren landscape, imagining the city where she'd been born. Or at least, she figured she'd been born in a city. Everyone else in the Multiple Barracks had.

She gazed out over the short scrub bushes and red-brown dirt and almost convinced herself that she could see a faint blotch, the outline of a city. Her city. Then she laughed at herself. The Multiple Barracks were so far out in the desert, so thoroughly planted in the middle of nowhere, that only those who had begun to go insane—and most of them did eventually—fancied they could see a city.

Emilee imagined it anyway. She imagined someone else out there who looked just like her. Wavy, cinnamon-stick hair that tangled easily. Small, watery green eyes. Ultra-pale skin that never tanned, just burned.

She wondered why they'd decided to keep this other her, this mystery girl.

She wondered why they hadn't decided to keep her.

*************************************************************************************************************************************

_Two unborn fetuses._

_Two tiny, unborn babies_

_Perfect._

_Studying the pink pearls of their toes._

_Marveling at their fingers._

_Only a thick wall of muscle_

_Separating them from the world_

_The cold, cruel world_

_That would tear them apart_

_************************************************************************************************************************************_

"So, Beka," said Dr. Abigail Storks casually, trying to distract the young Pretty—Middle Pretty now, that she would be having a child—from the needle he was slowly inserting into her skin, the vial slowly filling up with the crimson potency of her blood, "How many weeks are you?"

"Thirty weeks," Beka replied, cringing slightly at the pain of the needle.

"Uh-huh," the doctor mumbled. "Very good."

"Why, thank you," Beka said, as though she was receiving praise for a difficult task.

"So, um, what exactly is that you're doing?" Siam asked, inserting himself in the conversation.

"Just a routine blood check."_ Routine for someone we believe is expecting multiples_, she silently added.

Siam nodded, satisfied, believing he'd asserted himself and gained knowledge as to their situation.

************************************************************************************************************************************

Abigail entered the conference room, the same one that had been used for the initial meeting, to present her evidence in this follow-up.

"Yes," said the doctor simply. "Beka Silverstream is expecting twins. The fetuses are too far along for the abortion of one fetus or the other."

They all groaned, and several doctors placed their heads in their hands.

"Someone should tell them." Said one doctor. "They have to be prepared for this."

"This hasn't happened in over fifty years. Announcing it will just make us look bad!" Another argued.

"So will not telling a patient something they deserve to know." Said Abigail, standing.

The other doctors watched as Abigail exited the room, and then promptly began to argue once again.

************************************************************************************************************************************

Siam nuzzled his nose against Beka's stomach, and she giggled.

"I'm ready for this baby," Siam said suddenly.

"Me, too," replied Beka soberly, a rare moment.

"I'm ready to be a father. To love and cherish this little person. This little person who is going to be ours."

Beka nodded, her eyes wide. "I'm ready, too, Siam. I'm readier than I'll ever be, than I ever thought I could be. I'm ready to care for this baby. I _want_ to care for this baby."

Dr. Abigail Storks walked briskly into the room, shattering the delicate moment, unknowingly.

"Mr. Silverstream, Mrs. Silverstream, I have something to tell you,"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N- Hey peeps. Hope you like it! Sorry I haven't updated in so long. Guess I'm not very good at it. I know the whole "released" thing is similar to the story The Giver, but I didn't know what else to call it.

**Disclaimer- If I have to tell you…**

"I have to tell you something," the doctor repeated.

Beka pushed herself in the bed and grinned. "Does my baby look good?"

Doctor Abigail Storks bit her lip, unsure how to continue, knowing she'd have to tread lightly here. "Well I, we, have discovered an abnormality of sorts…"  
Beka gasped, her sky blue eyes widening. "What? C—can you fix it?"

Dr. Storks looked at the young girl, so naïve and innocent, and took a deep breath, preparing to deliver the news.

She opened her mouth and out came, "Oh, just that your baby is a little hungry. We're going to hook you up to a drip to take care of everything.

The creases in the couples faces immediately smoothed.

As Abby walked down the hall, she asked herself _why did I do that?_

************************************************************************

The green ferns swirled around Beka's ankles, and she grimaced, trying to pick her way out of the mini-forest climbing her legs. Finally she gave up.

"Siam!" Beka giggled, her hair blowing around in the wind as she giggled, "Help me! I'm stuck!"

Siam, already out of the fern covered clearing, chuckled and loped over, sweeping Beka into his arms. "Alright, my damsel in distress. Where to next?"

"This is so bubbly! It's so like, bubbly out here! To the—" Beka cut of with a gasp, clutching her stomach.

"Beka?" Siam asked fearfully. "Beka are you okay?"

***********************************************************************

"Emilee!" cried the voice. "Emilee! Wake up!"

Emilee rolled over and groaned. "Whaddya want?" she moaned, her voice slurred with sleep.

"They've been calling you over the intercom for fifteen minutes!" said Tanner, the short, kind boy who's bed was above hers, his brown eyes widening in concern. "I hope nothing's wrong."

Emilee threw off the covers and swung her feet over the side of the bed, shivering as they touched the cold tile floor.

"Do you have any idea what they want?" Tanner asked as Emilee pulled on her socks, not bothering with shoes.

"I don't know, Tanner," she said wearily. "Maybe I'm being Released."

Tanner got a far away, dreamy look in his eye as he stepped back to allow her to stand up from the bed. "I wonder where they all go. What if they go back to their old cities! What if they meet their parents and…their multiples!" Tanner said the last part in a hushed tone, almost reverently.

"I don't know, Tanner," Emilee said quietly, immersed in her own fantasies.

Just then a young woman wearing a pasted on smile that was just too happy tapped Emilee on the shoulder, breaking her daydream. "There you are!" she said in the bright, cheery, phony tone reserved for the BSes, or "Barracks Seniors"although the occupants of the Multiples Barracks had lots of other names for them, most of them in direct relation to their unfortunate acronym. They had been in the Barracks for as long as anyone could remember, and they were all pretty, reminding the Multiples of exactly what they were missing out on.

"Hi, Kelly!" Emilee said, matching the other girl's frighteningly cheerful tone.

Was she imagining things or did Kelly's eye just twitch?

"Come on, buddy!" Said Kelly, smiling so wide it was a wonder her face didn't just crack in half.

Kelly led Emilee down a long hall, their feet treading on threadbare puke colored carpet as they passed door after unmarked door, finally stopping at one.

It struck Emilee, as she was ushered into the nondescript room that it was just another door in a long hall of doors. If she were to try, she'd never be able to find her way out.

As she walked into the room, she was hit by a memory so intense she was almost paralyzed.

_There was a bright light. _

_A long table and a woman was bringing her into a room. _

_There was a nice man in the room. He had a nice smile._

_ "Hello, Brady, Hello Emilee. " he says. _

_She buries her face in her mother's leg. Her mother stiffens, and untangles herself from Emilee's grasp, looking down at her, expressionless._

_It just her, or does Emilee see a tear glistening in that eye?_

_"Which one?" asks the handsome doctor._

_"Emilee," replies the mother without hesitating._

_The doctor smiles and nods understandingly._

_There is a silence, and then another girl steps foward to meet the doctor, smiling a wide, gap-toothed smile, and offering a pink, chubby hand. "Hi," she says. "I'm Brady."_

_ A girl with cinnamon stick hair that tangles easily. Small, watery green eyes and pale skin that never tans but burns…_

Someone is screaming. It's her. Three masked men are holding her down as she thrashes, trying to escape. Calm down, she tells herself.

There's something about this place. Something bad. She has to get out…

"Hello, Emilee." Says a kindly man, so greatly resembling the doctor from her mind that a whole new round of screaming ensues. He ignores the noise, smiling pleasantly as he sticks a long needle into a small jar and pushes the plunger, filling it with a clear, viscous liquid.

He turns to Emilee, deftly swiping a wet pad over the crease of her elbow. If she wasn't so upset, it would tickle.

She thrashes again, screaming, shrieking, realizing that no one can hear her.

"Goodbye, Emilee," the doctor says pleasantly, his expression content and bland.

He inserts the long needle into the crease of her elbow.

The world fades…

******************************************************

_It is very loud out here, thinks one baby_

_I do not like it at all_

_At last, thinks the other_

_A whole new world_

_To explore_

_Just for me_


	4. Chapter 4

A/N- Okay, so here I am again. Wow, I've been gone a while. Please check out my profile, where I've put a name the babies contest. VOTE!

Disclaimer- I Do NOT own squat.

I, Beka thinks tears streaking her face, cannot do this anymore. Her body folds in around another contraction, and Siam strokes her face, cooing to her about it all being okay.

"I want it OUT!" she spits through gritted teeth.

"I know, baby," Siam murmurs. Beka closes her eyes and curls into a ball. Siam blows air through his nose and twists on his interface ring.

It takes three tries before the voice recognition software picks up his warbled cry and puts him through to the hospital.

"My wife is giving birth in a meadow!" he shouts into the ring. He feels excited, and scared and a million other things that drench his insides, making him feel weighed down and air-filled all at once.

_"We have your coordinates. We're sending hovercraft."_

"It's gonna be okay, Beka." Siam says, kneeling next to her.

She gazes up with him, her face red and contorted in pain, hair limp, eyes steely, and sees she is beautiful.

"I love you." He whispers, laying down beside her.

"Me—" she is cut short as blade of pain tears through her. Suddenly, there is blood.

"Oh!" Siam gasps.

"Oh!" Beka wails.

"Oh…" cries a third voice, high and new.

The tall green ferns whip and swirl, tumbling like the ocean as the copter touches down, out of place in such a quiet land, like a foreign planet.

The sky, a candy shade of blue, is torn apart as the blades carve at the air.

Siam, carrying Beka, carrying a wailing, red-faced infant, are loaded through the doors, and the monster rises once again off the ground, blades slicing the air.

"Stay calm, ma'am, the baby's out, we're just going to take you to the hospital."

"I-I don't feel like it's over…" Beka says weakly, clenching her teeth, holding her stomach.

She is ignored.

_So loud, and so, so very bright._

_ Blurry shapes looming over it._

_ "Hah," the baby sighs contentedly, curling closer to the source of warmth that hovers above it._

_ "Haaa-Ahhh!" the baby screams as its face touches the world. It is still so dark. But it is wrong. It is all wrong._

_ It is loud, oh, so loud._

_ There is no other beside it._

Both with downy black curls.

Both with curled, pink fists and pink pearl toes, writhing in shock at this new place they've been thrust into, so suddenly.

Both with cornflower blue eyes. Two eyes, wide and gaping, that will never see the world in all its glory.

"Your babies are…healthy." Abigail says in a clipped tone, refusing to look at a confused Siam.

"Babe…ies?" he repeats slowly, his eyes disappearing beneath his hair. "As in…two?"

Abby nods. "Yes, that would be two." She steals a glance at Beka, curled on the bed. Her eyes are closed, her hair limp and falling around her creased face as she frowns even in sleep. "They're…mostly healthy."

"Mostly." Siam parrots quietly.

Abby looks up, gamely meeting his gaze. "Mostly." She repeats.

"Why not entirely?" he asks. She can tell he doesn't want to. He would prefer that they both be clean and shiny and perfect as the new beings they are, unsoiled by the world. He's prefer there be no "they".


	5. Chapter 5

A/N- Wow, I haven't written in a long, long time. I'm really sorry. I promise to make updates more often, for all of my stories.

Disclaimer- take a wild guess

"Two babies…" Beka murmured in wonder, her head lolling back onto the pillow.

Abigail nodded curtly. "Yes. As I'm sure you've realized, this is somewhat of an unusual situation and…Beka?"

Beka had gotten up out of the bed and was doing lazy pirouettes around the room, her eyes glazed. Abigail stared at her for a moment longer, and then pulled out a thin black device and spoke into it. "Exactly how much medication is a Beka Silverstream being given?"

"That's 48 milligrams of hypytoxan." Hypytoxan was a recently engineered painkiller that could often leave the patient just a bit…loopy.

"Right." Abigail said into the device, and dropped it back into her pocket.

She glanced at Siam, asleep in a chair in the corner, snoring lightly, his mouth open. Sighing, Abigail let herself out of the room, thinking how she'd have to come back later when at least one of the parents wasn't going to be totally zoned out.

On a whim, she walked down the hall, towards the NICU. Although the Silverstream babies had been born healthy – other than the one baby's apparent blindness – they'd been taken there simply because of the unorthodoxy of the situation.

She leaned down so the scanner could get a good read of her eye-print. Once it'd flashed, the door made a clicking sound, and she walked into the NICU.

There were only a few babies there. It seemed Pretties wanted to stay wild and carefree for longer and longer before settling down to have children, and that meant fewer babies, for now at least.

She walked over to see Nicola, an infant who'd been in the NICU for a month now. She was tiny – about the size of a water bottle – and her skin was pale and nearly translucent, a road map of tiny veins playing out beneath it, leading to who knew where, so long as it was away from this place. Nicola gazed up at her, little brown eyes squinted against the harsh overhead lights.

Abigail smiled sadly, taking Nicola's tiny fist in her hand, watching how it was totally engulfed. Abigail doubted the tiny infant would ever leave the NICU. She was hooked up to so many monitors and IV s that sometimes it seemed as though she'd be lost beneath the countless wires. Suddenly, the skin around the baby's eyes was blue. She opened the tiny red bow of her mouth, and a soundless scream, heard only by Abigail broke the woman's heart.

A loud beeping issued, from one of the machines, and Abigail found herself being shoved aside as Nicola was hidden behind a swarm of people in white coats.

Muttered snatches of conversation like "…total arrest" and "…partial collapse" made their way to Abigail's ears, and she shook her head, trying to ignore them.

"Poor baby," she whispered as the doctors cleared away, satisfied with their work. Nicola's chest was heaving, like she couldn't possibly get enough oxygen. "Doesn't anyone ever…hold you?"

As if in answer, Nicola blinked and closed her brown eyes, her breathing even now, in sleep.

Abigail continued through the small rows of little foam-lined cribs until she was standing between those of the Silverstream Twins. Capitalized because, though the babies had been alive for less then a day, they were already famous, being called everything from a miracle to a sign of the apocalypse.

First, Abigail pulled the healthy baby into her arms. Awake and vibrant, the infant looked up at her with wide-open, clear eyes. She looked inquisitive and almost like she was smiling.

"Hi," Abigail cooed, grinning. The baby began to squirm, stretching and testing her limbs, wanting to be put down, to further explore her world. Abigail almost felt bad placing her back into the familiar confines of the crib.

Next, the doctor lifted the other baby into her arms. This baby was less vivacious. She looked almost wary, and her cloudy eyes gaped widely.

When Abigail lifted the baby closer to her face, so she could get a better look at her, the infant curled into herself, still not making a noise.

The baby pressed its face against Abigail's, and reached a tiny hand up to her own face, feathering tiny fingers over it.

It was, Abigail realized, the blind baby's own unique way of getting to know her surroundings.

Suddenly, Abigail did not want to let go. She wanted to clutch this baby tight to her forever, protecting it from all the evils of the world.

"Doctor," came a crackly voice from the little black device. "You're needed on floor eight, room sixteen B."

Abby started, and the baby began to cry. The spell broken, Abigail quickly placed the wailing infant back into her crib and hurried out of the NICU.

Beka ran her fingers nervously through her hair, barely listening as the doctor droned on about 'unusual circumstances' and 'necessary arrangements'.

"Because of the rules, you are only allowed to keep one of the babies. After spending eighteen months with both of the twins, you will then make the decision as to which child to keep, and which to send to the Multiples Barracks."

"Multiples Barracks?" Siam asked.

"Yes. The place where…extra babies are sent to live. It's a…erm…very nice place."

Siam nodded.

"So, in a few hours you'll leave with the babies. Are you ready to be a father."

Siam shrugged. "It can't be that hard, right?"

Siam lifted baby one – the first to be born, the normal one – into the air again, and relished in her squealing laughter.

Beka, lying beside him on the bed, laughed too. "She's so cute!" Beka exclaimed, scooting closer to peer at the baby's tiny, smiling face.

"I'm going to get a snack," Beka declared, sitting up. She still wasn't used to having an actual range of movement again.

As she walked out of the room, she passed the other baby, asleep in it's cradle. She tried not to look at it for too long as she hurried through the doorway. In the kitchen, she stared for a long time at a picture of Siam and her, taped to the fridge.

Would they every look like that again, just the two of them, happy and carefree?

Grabbing, a yogurt, Beka walked back to the bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed, watching Siam play with the baby.

"What are we going to call her?" Siam asked. "We can't just say 'Baby Number One' forever."

Beka nodded and lay down. "I was thinking…I want to name her after my Grandmother."

Beka's voice was quiet. Not many Pretties kept contact with their grandparents, or Rusties.

"And?" Siam asked, making the word a question. Baby number one squirmed and gurgled out giggling noises that made Siam feel like he was full of light.

"Her name is…Evangelia."

"Kind of…long, isn't it?" Siam asked, biting his lip.

"We can give her a nickname, silly!" Beka smacked him playfully in the arm, and they laughed.

"This is nice." Beka said suddenly. "I like this. It's so bubbly!"

Her interface ring chirped, and she twisted it and clicked through her eye screen.

"Ooh, Ali wants to know what the... baby looks…like." Her voice trailed off, growing softer as she reached the end. "Baby. One."

Suddenly, a wail pierced the air, as though the second knew what was going on. Knew of her mention.

"Beka?" Siam asked, "What will we call that one?"

Beka bit her lip, not responding. She was staring at the message. "Two." She murmured. A tear slid down her cheek. "I feel like we've been cursed. Why the extra? And why…why can't it see? Siam it isn't fair!" she turned and pressed her face into his chest. Siam lowered Evangelia and placed her on his chest as well, beside Beka.

Siam said nothing. His wife's words rang in his ears. "…_like we've been cursed_…"

"Jinx." He whispered. Then again, "Jinx," clearer this time, as though the baby should hear too. "We'll call it…her…Jinx."

In response was a low, keening cry.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N- La doo dee dop. Howdy folks. The poll response wasn't enormous, but it was there, so the kids have names! Sorry I seemed to drop off the face of the earth.

"Semi-Genetic Corneal Dysfunction." Abby said, pretending to write something on her clipboard so she won't have to look at their uncomprehending faces.

"Semi-Corneal Geneo…" said Siam, his smooth brow crinkling. "I've…I've never heard of it."

"There hasn't been a case in over 120 years. You wouldn't have heard of it." She flicked her finger toward the wallscreen, which immediately lit up, and scrolled with facts about the extinct—or so they'd though—disease. Abby had refused the implantation of an eye click mechanism, although she herself wasn't completely certain why. It sometimes made her work harder, but it wasn't a decision she regretted.

"I don't get it." Beka said softly, her eyes unfocused as she gazed in the general direction of the wall screen. She was on heavy medication for pain, and her movements were slow, her words vague and quiet. Siam reached across the bed and took her hand in his own. She did not react, not even seeming to notice.

"Can you fix it?" He asked expectantly. Doctors could fix everything now.

Abby sucked in a breath. This was the hard part. "There are treatments."

"But you can't fix it." Beka inserted unexpectedly, her voice still quiet. Maybe she wasn't as far away as Abby had thought.

"Well…no. It's incurable, inoperable, in—," she stopped at the sight of their expressions: Siam's one of confusion, Beka's of sadness. "No."

Brady gazed eagerly up at the tall building. It was so enormous with its high, flat roof, the dorm flag whipping in the brisk wind. She felt a push from behind, and she stumbled. "Watch it, Legs!" she complained loudly, spitting the nickname of one of the more annoying kids.

The minders corralled the anxious children like so many cattle. They were all almost twelve. Not quite uglies, but no longer littlies. They were loud and aggressive with pimply skin and greasy hair. Brady knew she was one of them, and she detested it. She longed for the day when she would cross the river and trade this face for a gorgeous one.

The wind blew her hair into her eyes, and she pulled an elastic off her wrist, scraping back her hair. The thick, cinnamon colored locks would be the first to go when she went under the knife. In the middle of wondering what it would be like to be a blonde, she felt a sharp, stabbing pain in the crease of her arm.

"Ow!" she cried out suddenly.

The others turned to raise their eyebrows at her, and she shrugged. Rubbing her arm, Brady bit her lip. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. A sudden, strange feeling or emotion. They seemed to come out of nowhere, and were usually over as quickly as they started.

But not this one.

Suddenly, Brady keeled over. Her head hit the grass, but it didn't matter. She was already lost in memory.

_There was a bright light._

A long table, and a woman was bringing her into a room

_ There was a nice man in the room. He had a nice smile._

_ "Hello Brady, Hello Emilee," he said._

_ There is an awkward silence._

_ "Emilee." Says the tall woman who brought her here._

_ Brady turns to see what is happening, and there._

_ A little girl._

_ She turns her tear-stained face away from her mother's leg, and Brady sees._

_ Brady sees __a girl with cinnamon stick hair that tangles easily. Small, watery green eyes and pale skin that never tans but burns…_

"Ahhh!" Brady's eyes flew open. Her forehead was damp with sweat.

"Are you alright?" asked a minder.

Brady nodded slowly, and squeezed her eyes shut tight. She felt empty. Alone, more so than she ever had.

Like there had always been a friend with her, and now they were gone.

Then the minder reached down to help her up, and the moment passed.

Abby couldn't get that little girl's face out of her head.

The clouded blue eyes that stared blankly.

She'd sent the two babies home with their mother and father, swaddled in blankets, with just one instruction.

Pick one.

Pick one of your newborn children to give to us to…dispose of.

Pick one child to keep, and then one to get rid of.

Pick your dispensable child, and hand her over to us.

We'll take care of everything.

And Abby already knew which one it would be. The blind baby.

What Pretty mother would want to deal with a child who could not see? After all, the whole point of society was to look pretty, but this baby would never even know the true meaning of the word. So obviously Beka would keep the other baby.

The one with eyes that would recognize her by sight, because who wants a baby who won't even know when you enter a room?

A baby that will be indifferent when you lift them to look into their eyes, and search for their future.


End file.
