The Divide Book 1: Uprising

By Kim Flowers

During the Second Civil War, a new U.S. political party called the Family Protection Movement established The Divide, which separates Normal people from those who are gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender.

Seventeen-year old Serenity Blackwater lives in the normal Midwestern town of Mapleville, but she is not normal. She hacks into an illegal gay chat room and meets Dawn, a lesbian who lives in a gay community less than a mile away. Serenity discovers normal people can bribe their way inside the walls and decides to go, both to meet Dawn and check out what may be her future home.

Dawn is even more beautiful than Serenity hoped, and the two soon become a couple. But Serenity only has a few months before she must take the Normal Verification Test, and then she’ll be separated from her family forever. So she joins the Human Equality Organization, an underground group working to end The Divide. Dawn thinks the rebellion is too dangerous, and since Dawn’s ex-girlfriend Malaki is also a member, Serenity doesn’t tell Dawn about her involvement.

Serenity reveals to the HEO that her parents are leading a campaign to organize attacks on all Gay Communities. With her help, the HEO creates Project Jericho, in which all Gay Communities walls will implode at once. But after too many delays, and when Dawn discovers Serenity has been spending more time with Malaki than her, Serenity knows she has to start the revolution herself. She heads to D.C. to contact a group of senators secretly against The Divide ... or straight into a trap set by the Family Protection Movement.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Jan 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781611524192

Book preview

The Divide Book 1: Uprising

By Kim Flowers

Published by Queerteen Press at Smashwords

An imprint of JMS Books LLC

Visit queerteen-press.com for more information.

Copyright 2013 Kim Flowers

ISBN 9781611524192

For more titles by Kim Flowers at Smashwords visit https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/kimflowers

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Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

All rights reserved.

WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America. Queerteen Press is an imprint of JMS Books LLC.

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Kim would like to thank J.M Snyder and the QTP editors, Liz Penn, Jay Willis, Dennis Smith/Gothic Blues, Camp NaNo, The Wild Bookstore, The Polk Street Review, MOOT Magazine, Windy City Times, and Malissa and James Flowers.

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The Divide Book 1: Uprising

By Kim Flowers

To all of you out there who are still hiding.

Prologue: The Present

I spit blood and sway, determined not to collapse.

The man in the three-piece suit punches me again. Thick clumps of dark, matted hair cover my face as I fall to one knee and force myself back up.

Tell me about the confidential information you delivered, he says calmly.

I never looked at it, I whisper. Screams have long ago torn my voice from my throat.

The man’s pale face shows no emotion as he uppercuts my jaw.

I can’t see him anymore; instead, a swirling universe sparkling with distant galaxies and suns fills my vision. Somewhere out there is surely another world where I won’t be punished for who I am. But then the illusion fades and I’m back in the gray room. Instruments of torture hang upon the wall, and even though the light is dim, I see bloodstains all over the floor.

You are a liar, the man says matter-of-factly.

It takes all my willpower not to beat the man with his own weapons. I’ve been standing here for almost an hour, unbound. But if I even attempt to defend myself, I’ll be executed immediately.

The man clasps his hands in front of him. This is a godly nation. You were raised in the church. Don't you recall how the Lord will separate the righteous from the wicked in the end? The goats on his left; the sheep on his right. Why have you have deliberately chosen to walk the path of the goats?

I say nothing, knowing it won’t matter either way.

He raises an eyebrow. Answer the question. Why have you strayed from your rightful path? What Bible verse could you possibly recite to prove that flaunting authority is beneficial?

I sneer. ‘Beware of wolves in sheep's clothing.’

The man’s face reddens. You’ve brought this upon yourself. He reaches for the Peacemaker.

My breath catches in my throat. I have nothing to tell the government, but they don’t believe me. I’ve been taught in school that minors have special protection under the law, and can’t be imprisoned or tortured the way adults are.

But apparently, those rules don’t apply to seventeen-year-olds who sneak off to join the Gay Community.

I cross my arms over my ragged, filth-encrusted shirt as the man steps closer, holding a small black rod. I’ve lasted the whole session today without crying out in pain, even though I’ve been lashed with a leather strap and punched repeatedly. But the Peacemaker is the worst.

Tears fill my eyes. I back into the shadows and desperately wish for some way to delay what is about to happen.

The man lunges and presses the rod to my temple. My teeth clench; my skull sparks with electricity. It feels like I drift to the floor in a fog until I actually hit the ground and the back of my head slams onto concrete. He releases the charge only to jolt the other side.

I sprawl on the floor helplessly, and know I’ll be questioned again soon to see if my answers have changed. I’ve already been interrogated under multiple conditions using various techniques, but my answers haven’t made the government happy. The Peacemaker is their latest tactic.

After multiples shocks, I feel myself drifting. I try to force my brain synapses to function—to secure my short-term memories, even as they fade—but the Peacemaker causes me such confusion. I think the man hopes I’ll forget why I’m there, but not the long-term memories I’ve retained, so I’ll tell him what he wants. Fortunately for me, no matter how much technology or the study of medicine and pain advances, humans still can’t master the inner workings of their own brains, so I know that in the morning I’ll have my memories back, though the torture sessions themselves always remain blank.

Wait.

What’s going on?

Where is the Human Equality Organization headquarters? a pale man asks, swimming in and out of my blurred vision.

I don’t know…Dad?

There’s pain in my head, followed by more questions, as I lie on the floor paralyzed. I have no idea what’s happening to me, but finally I am carried away to a scratchy cot in a cell.

There are no windows, and the room is dark. I don’t know what just happened, or why I feel so weak. I curl up and sob, feeling like a little kid.

Mom? Dad?

Why am I here? When will someone take me home?

I’m so thirsty.

I sob myself to sleep.

When I awake, I remember.

I step carefully across the cell. I know it’s morning now because a small cup of water and bowl of oatmeal have been set inside my door. I sit on the floor and try to savor the meal, in case I don’t get anything else for the rest of the day. After using the freezing metal toilet, I lie on my rancid cot, waiting for the torture.

Maybe I’ve been headed towards this moment since the day in third grade I realized I was a lesbian and decided not to confess and be sent to therapy. Or maybe it was my freshman year that changed things, when I began hacking into forbidden LGBT chat rooms. I’d tried to act the way I should my whole life, but it never made a difference.

Actually, it wasn’t until I met Dawn that I stopped caring about being the perfect citizen. Now I can’t help but wonder if there’s anything I should have done differently.

I roll to my side, surprised that the man hasn’t come to get me yet, and desperately replay my memories. Maybe today the Peacemaker will overcome me, and I will be left with nothing.

* * * *

Part 1: The Past

Chapter 1

The night my life changed, I hunched at the desk in my dark bedroom and turned on my computer tablet, illuminating a crucifix on the wall. Mom and Dad gave me the enormous bronze cross when I was seven years old. Every night Jesus gazed down at me with a bloody, mournful face. His crown of thorns seemed to sink deeper into his head if I stared at it long enough. I turned so I couldn’t see the accusing savior anymore.

Within minutes, I’d hacked into an illegal chat room that looked promising with a surprisingly near Internet Portal address. I typed my usual question.

Serene1: I’m not normal. Can anyone help me?

FemmeJim: No help for you.

Serene1: What’s going to happen to me?

Outcast: Banishment, if you’re serious. If not, this is no place for straights to play.

Enigma462: Let’s go to another chat, I’m not in the mood for this.

I watched as names disappeared, and put a fist to my forehead. This always happened.

But for once, there was another name left in the room.

Dawn360: What’s it like to live in a normal town?

I sat up straighter, wide-eyed and breathless. Finally!

Serene1: It’s okay, but would be a lot better if I were normal, too. When did you get banished?

Dawn360: I was born here.

Serene1: How is that possible in a gay community?

Dawn360: You’re funny. I have two dads and a surrogate mom.

Serene1: So are you normal? I mean, straight.

Dawn360: No, not straight or normal at all.

Serene1: What kind of gay are you? I mean, are you lesbian, bisexual, transgender, or something else? I’ve always thought it was weird that the government just calls all of those things ‘gay’.

Dawn360: Yeah, it doesn’t make much sense to me, either. I’m a lesbian, but a lot of times I do just say I’m gay.

Serene1: How old are you?

Dawn360: 17

Serene1: Me too. Which community do you live in?

Dawn360: Community 17.

Serene1: Weird…I live less than a mile away, in the normal town Mapleville.

Serenity, why aren’t you in bed?

At the sight of Mom bursting through the door, I wiped my tablet blank. I was checking my homework.

Get some sleep. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.

I hurried to bed, pulling the covers to my chin despite the warm night, and stared at the ceiling, full of unexplainable feelings.

* * * *

Jesus was sparkling in the morning as sunlight streamed into my room. Few other things covered the white walls, just a couple baby pictures and a framed, cross-stitched Bible verse.

Sometimes I wished I could paint the walls black and scrawl cryptic, glow-in-the-dark messages on them. Instead, I put on my school uniform: a white blouse and black skirt. I pulled on pantyhose without tearing them this time and groaned before slipping on black leather shoes. The shoes were uncomfortable as hell, but at least the heels weren’t any higher. According to my school, high heels made girls look inappropriate.

I wandered down the hall to the kitchen, where my parents were eating breakfast.

Good morning, honey, Dad said.

Hi, I mumbled, feeling guilty about the night before.

Mom smiled. So grumpy when you wake up; you’ve been that way ever since you were little.

I grinned as I slid into my chair. I never want to go to sleep, and then I never want to get up.

After breakfast, I forced my long hair into order. I’d just taken out multiple braids the night before, so I really had to work at it with leave-in conditioner and a pick, letting it hang long and naturally curly. Then, like every morning, Dad walked me to school on the way to his job in the office at the Mapleville Church of Jesus. He was a political organizer.

Have a good day, dear, he said.

Thanks, love you.

As I walked through the body scanners, I finally had a chance to reminisce about the night before. A swarm of identically dressed girls, and boys who all wore white shirts and black pants, streamed past. Boring.

But this Dawn360 person…I wondered what she looked like.

Serenity! A tall redhead with caramel skin dodged through the crowds.

Hey, Zenith.

Zenith started talking about something, but the person online filled my mind…I couldn’t believe someone who’d been born in a gay community didn’t seem demonic at all. It was so weird.

Did you hear me? Did you study for sociology?

Oh, yeah. Sorry, Z.

Let me know if the test is bad.

I nodded and walked into my first class, U.S. History, as the bell rang.

Today we’re going to talk about separation of church and state, Mr. Eluto said as he paced the front of the room. He was already sweating; he was famous for it. Behind his desk, the usual enormous, blank computer screen was mounted on the wall.

I pulled my tablet out of my backpack, tempted to break into chat rooms instead of taking notes, but it wasn’t worth the risk. Instead, I forced all thoughts of the night before away, watching Mr. Eluto’s bald head gleam under the lights.

When our government was first formed, the founding fathers knew that to get the agreement of all people—even the godless—they would have to make some compromises, he said.

Everyone else in the room began typing furiously on their own tablets. I keyed random phrases in multiple fonts and colors.

Freedom of religion was very important to the establishment of democracy. But as time passed, many of our nation’s leaders realized this separation was only necessary if no religion was different from any other. Since we know there is only one true God, there can be no compromises. Once the old separation law was abolished, The United States of America finally became, officially, a Christian nation.

Amen, I said. I could always get away with talking in class if I said something religious.

Amen, others murmured.

Yes, indeed. Mr. Eluto mopped his face with a handkerchief and walked to his desk to type on a keyboard there. The giant computer screen behind him lit up. This web site goes into more detail about the history of the great leaders of The Family Protection Movement, which helped transform our nation into the Promised Land it was always meant to be.

I hid a yawn behind my hand and checked the thesaurus on my own screen for synonyms to the word boring.

* * * *

You have twenty minutes, Mrs. Navarro said in Sociology, passing out papers to the class.

I’d been dreading this test, even though I knew all the answers. For one thing, Mrs. Navarro was the only ancient teacher who still made us write everything by hand like we were in freaking elementary school. For another, Sociology was one of the classes I had to fake my way through the most. I filled out my answers quickly, trying not to think about them too much.

When was The Divide established? During Civil War 2

Which tactics were used to round up homosexuals who were unwilling to relocate? Tear gas, anthrax, AIDS injections, night raids, warrants, threats to their normal families.

What percentage of homosexuals moved to designated Gay Communities voluntarily? 72% after the California Conflict, which had high casualties to both gay and normal people.

Who established The Divide? The Family Protection Movement

True or False: Homosexuals meet all the criteria to be classified as domestic terrorists. True

Twenty questions of this and finally an essay:

Discuss the reasons Americans are better off now that gays have been separated from normal citizens.

I swallowed and wrote: Normal people are now free to live without the homosexual agenda shoved down their throats. Sending homosexuals to Gay Communities is the best way to let them destroy themselves without compromising our nation’s values.

I couldn’t write any more without throwing up. I put my head on the desk until class was over.

* * * *

That night, I sat in bed with a blanket over my head, hiding my tablet’s glow. I’d gotten into some chat rooms, but couldn’t find anyone to talk to. I wondered if I dared find the girl I’d chatted with the night before, but she was probably just a government spy pretending to be a lesbian anyway.

A private message popped up on my screen.

Dawn360: Hi. Where did you go last night?

I clenched the tablet, heart beating faster. This could be a trap. My every word and move could be monitored right now. Probably was. I shouldn’t trust a faceless person online; my parents had told me that since I learned to read.

But I also had problems I couldn’t tell anyone else about, and was going to end up banned no matter what. I might as well take the risk.

Serene1: Sorry, my mom busted into the room. She just thought I was doing homework, though.

Dawn360: I thought maybe you were a straight person pretending to be gay.

Serene1: I thought maybe you were a spy about to break down my door and arrest me. Or a creepy old guy.

Dawn360: Great, now I’m laughing, and I’ll probably wake my dads up.

Serene1: I can’t believe you actually want to chat with someone from a normal town.

Dawn360: I just wanted to talk to someone different; I didn’t know who I’d meet. But I don’t have anything against straight people. My brother Adam is straight and left for a normal college last fall. He’s only allowed to visit us for one weekend this summer.

Serene1: So