I pulled my coat a little closer and made my way to the street corner where Charlotte and I would be meeting. I was the first to arrive, of course- Charlotte didn't have a hurry bone in her body- so I had nothing to do but worry and wait.

In the old world, my eighteenth birthday would have meant that I was a grown woman who was able to make my own decisions. But in Grayson, I was still treated like a child. No... not a child. Because children in Grayson were beloved and coveted and seen as gifts from God. Women, on the other hand, were disposable, domestic servants subjected to the head of their household.

A part of me wanted to run home and hide while I could; to take my chances with the Guardians and hope they'd forget I even existed. But I would never be so lucky.

Instead of lingering on the life that I was leaving behind and allowing the terror bubbling inside to consume me, I tried to appreciate the beauty that lay before me. Grayson was a stunning city, I couldn't deny that. Despite its faults, the town looked like scene from a storybook. The cobblestone square was lined with small shops, elegant churches, and bakeries that emanated the smell of freshly baked bread. Smoke rolled from the chimneys of the small cottages along the outskirts of town and disappeared in the early morning chill, lost in the foggy morning sky. Children laughed and played, the boys on their way to school, and the girls heading toward their domestic skills lessons, oblivious to the life that awaited them beyond girlhood.

The landscape beyond Grayson's border was breathtaking. The city was nestled in the heart of Appalachia, with the rolling sea of the Atlantic to one side and the towering summits of the Appalachian Mountains on the other. Trees were spotted with white and pink blooms as the forests revived themselves after the long winter. Birds chattered happily in the distance, oblivious to the terrors this day would bring. It was quite a sight, spoiled only by the city that lay in its center.

A light breeze pulled my dark hair from its long plait and swirled it around my face, sending a shiver up my spine. As I stared at the beautiful landscape beyond the town, I nearly forgot my misgivings about the Ceremony. Almost.

If I didn't live here, perhaps I would find Grayson to be a quaint, quiet town, full of friendly people who had each other's best interests at heart. But I did live here, and for that reason, I could see Grayson for what it really was- purgatory. I hated the Awakening Ceremony and everything that it stood for. I hated that when people looked at me, the only thing that they saw was the lesser of the two sexes.

It's said that Grayson is the only habitable land left in the world, that every other inch of the Earth's surface is so contaminated, no human can live there. I've never left the city to see the damage for myself.

I'd read about the fall of America in one of my father's history books, about how the countries of the world turned on one another. It's rumored that women were regarded as equals back then, before our patriarchal society took over. But after the third world war more than five centuries ago led to nuclear attacks, radiation poisoning, and the increase of global warming, resources dwindled at an alarming rate and life as we knew it changed forever.

The small percentage who survived the war were unprepared for the aftermath, and they teetered on the cusp of death for years. Zachariah Grayson, the extremist who created our new society, was a preacher who declared the wars as an act of God. Zachariah claimed it was the Lord's way of cleansing the earth of corrupt things so we could start anew. When he came across the only livable land left on the planet- a modern day Garden of Eden- those who once doubted him, never questioned his methods again.

Zachariah determined that the only way we could reverse the damage of our sins was to go back to a more primitive lifestyle, one with religion at the core of our values. He promoted a world where men were the head of the household, and women remained submissive. With Zachariah's guidance, strict bylaws were soon created to prevent our society from going down the same path of impurities that led to the third world war.

The city of Grayson was established, and we quickly began the path to restoration. No longer were the people inflicted with hunger pangs or overcome by the sweltering heat from radioactive lands. No longer did the children clutch their mother's bosom, crying over the agonizing blisters from breathing contaminated air. Not only did Grayson persevere, it thrived. So much so that the objective shifted from surviving the war, to replenishing the now uninhabited planet so our species could continue. Population renewal became our main goal, the mission at the core of our new society. This led to the annual Awakening Ceremony, a practice still continued to this day.

My heart thudded rapidly as reality started to sink in. I was on my way to the Ceremony right now, being selected as a bride like so many generations of Grayson women before me. Soon enough, I would be chosen by some stranger like I was fruit on a tree, ripe for the taking, forced to tend to his needs and have his children. In a few hours I would be a wife and in less than a year, I could already be a mother. I took a deep breath, doubling over to keep from being sick.

Keep it together, Mia, I chastised. This was not the time or place to lose control. With a deep breath, I straightened up and smoothed the folds of my skirt, avoiding the curious gazes of those passing by.

As I glanced across the square, I spotted Charlotte. When our eyes meet, she produced a brilliant grin. One of the best parts of Charlotte was that she was always smiling. She was the one person who could make me feel better, even in the worst of times. My worries were temporarily pushed to the back of my mind as she headed to meet me.

"Hey, Mamma Mia. How's it hanging?" she asked, wrapping her arms around me. I tensed, my eyes sweeping the horizon for signs of the Guardians who reported noncompliance to the officials, but Charlotte was unfazed by our prohibited interaction.

"I'd be better if we weren't running late," I grumbled, glancing at my watch.

"Yeah, yeah. You're just so excited for the ceremony," Charlotte smirked, rolling her eyes. "You ready for this?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," I said as we made our way toward the Processing Center.

"Oh, cheer up. You're going to meet the love of your life today," she taunted. Charlotte could find humor in any situation, but I was too nervous to laugh with her. She seemed to sense my anxiety.

"Seriously, Mia, everything will be okay," she said with a smile. "I can feel it in my bones."

I nodded, keeping my eyes to the ground, hoping that she was right.

We passed a young woman in the street, and I couldn't help but stare. She looked tattered and worn, aged well before her time, the area surrounding her eye darkened by a shadowy bruise. On her cheek, a small red "X" was branded into her skin, the sign of an unsuitable woman. I shivered and looked away, thankful I had nothing in my stomach to expel.

"I guess anything would be better than becoming a No Name woman," I muttered when the girl was out of earshot.

Charlotte gave me a sympathetic smile, knowing my worries as only a best friend could. Becoming one of these women was my greatest fear in life, even more so than the Awakening Ceremony. We called them "No Names" because their identities had been stripped away, left as a nobody in a world where they once mattered.

A person could become a No Name woman for a variety of reasons, but most often it was caused by government insubordination or their husband rejecting them. It didn't matter the circumstances, if your husband decided he didn't want you any more, that was enough to end your life as you knew it. You were considered tainted goods in a society where your marital status was the thing that defined you.

For this reason, No Name women were on the lowest rung of our society, the same as common criminals. They were forced to wear robes of black and keep their eyes to the ground, too inadequate to look ordinary citizens in the face.

Being a No Name woman meant a life of labor in the Factories, or servitude in the household, if they were lucky. Though it was prohibited, some even resorted to becoming beggars or prostitutes, using any means necessary to survive in a world that didn't accept them. They were seen as less than human by our government and made my fears of becoming a wife look like leisure in comparison.

The No Name woman's appearance caused my stomach to give a nervous lurch. Her derisible presence was a reminder of what my future could become if I didn't find a way to please my husband. I took a deep breath, vowing that this would never be my fate. I would have to find a way to make my marriage work, no matter the cost.

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

Charlotte and I walked into the foyer of the Processing Center where a dozen other girls were waiting for the Awakening Ceremony to begin. Some of them looked as terrified as I was, but most were brimming with joy. I wasn't sure if I pitied the other girls for their naivety, or envied them for so readily embracing what was expected of them.

It made sense that most women would be excited about what their future might hold. We had all been trained to become a prospective wife from the moment we were born, brainwashed to believe this would be the biggest moment of our meager lives. For eighteen years we had been taught to cook, clean, keep our mouths shut and be submissive. We learned to stitch clothes and embroider curtains, to care for young children and aging adults, to cater to men. Now was our moment to shine, to put our lessons to practice.

I took in the appearance of the girls I'd grown up with, wondering if I would recognize them when the Awakening Ceremony was over. During the Awakening, after a woman was bound to her husband, he had total dominion over her, even down to her physical traits. While I was under anesthesia, some stranger would have the authority to genetically modify my appearance without my consent.

More terrifying than the stranger who might select me as their wife, was the stranger I might become. By the end of the day, I might not recognize the person in the mirror. I turned away from my peers, unable to look at them any longer for fear of what their futures might hold.

The other girls chattered for a few minutes, but silence quickly fell on the room when the front door to the Processing Center flung open. The silhouette of a woman appeared, a dark shadow against the bright sunlight.

I knew her immediately- a legend in our society. Sister Margaret was the only woman in Grayson who hadn't married in the Awakening Ceremony. Instead, she committed herself to running the Processing Center and preparing girls for their Awakenings. She was the only woman with even an ounce of power in Grayson, and she flaunted it openly.

Sister Margaret stomped inside, her long frock flowing behind her and her face serious. Her skin was permanently indented with frown lines, and she exulted an aura of no-nonsense. Sister Margaret was as rigid as the tight bun that secured her graying hair.

Sister Margaret came to a halt before the group of girls, observing us with an unrelenting glare. The room became so quiet, I could almost hear my own heart thumping against my chest.

"Strip naked, even your undergarments," she said without so much as a greeting.

We all paused, eyeing one another as we considered the seriousness of the request.

"Now!" she roared, startling us into action.

You could sense our mutual discomfort as we obliged. Modesty was proselytized in our society. Nakedness to this degree was banned, a punishable offense. But what Sister Margaret said inside the four walls of the Processing Center was law, so we followed her command without question.

"Form a line," she commanded once we were undressed.

As we gathered single file, naked and freezing, Sister Margaret walked through the line to assess us. She patted, poked, and prodded each girl, taking notes about her subject while the rest of us stood silently, awaiting our turn and fighting the urge to cover ourselves.

When it was my turn, Sister Margaret stepped up to me and used a ruler to measure my height, bust, and waist sizes. She weighed me on an electronic scale, pinched my cheeks, and ran her fingers through my dark hair. Then she jotted down the figures on her intimidating clipboard, leaving me to question if my result were acceptable or not before moving on to the next girl in line.

After Sister Margaret finished the initial assessment, she stood before the line of girls, tapping her foot unnervingly as she stared at us.

"Be fruitful and multiply, so sayeth the Lord," she preached, her deep voice resonating through the empty halls of the Processing Center. "The woman is a beautiful creature, made by God to replenish the earth. You are blessed to bear life; to cultivate, nurture, and nourish the next generation. Without you, our species would cease to exist. Now that you are of age, it is time to begin fulfilling your obligation.

"The Binding process will require you to denounce your old identity. Your name, your family, your memories- they are no more," she continued. "Today, you will be assigned your mate, and you are to subject yourself to his will. He is your superior, and you are to respect and obey him, as is your duty as a woman."

I repeated her words in my mind. Subject... respect... obey... but nothing about love. Love was a thing of the past, dying with the millions who perished during the war. We were nothing more than human incubators now, used to bring children into a dying world. You married, had kids, and that was the extent of your existence. If you could tolerate your mate, you were among the privileged and might have a chance at a decent life. But it wasn't uncommon to see the bruised and beaten women from a home where they were seen as nothing more than an animal.

"At this time you will undergo the Awakening Ceremony," Sister Margaret explained. "When you come to, you will be a Bound woman and will begin your new life. Remember your purpose and you will be fine. Forget and you shall perish, as is God's will," she said, sending a chill down my spine. "Good luck to you all."

I still had so many questions swirling in my head, but Sister Margaret left the room without giving me a chance to ask them. In her stead, several doctors walked inside, one for each girl. They gave us a physical examination to test our health, endurance, and, most importantly, that our virginity remained unsullied.

Then the time came for the binding process. As my physician prepared a serum that would induce a deep sleep, I couldn't help but think about how primitive it was that I would be put on display for the men in the city to scrutinize, remaining unconscious as they inspected me to see if I was up to the standards of being their wife.

My heart pounded as I watched the syringe enter my skin and the plunger being pushed down. My eyelids became heavy almost immediately. The only thing I could think about as my body went limp was how badly I didn't want to get married and have children. And then I faded into unconsciousness.

Thank you so much for reading "Bound"! Please let me know what you thought. What do you think about Charlotte and Sister Margaret? How do you feel about the Awakening Ceremony?

And as always, if you enjoyed the story, don't forget to vote! :)

© Dawn Norwell