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Reunion at Walnut Cherryville (Book 1 Eternal Feud Series)
Reunion at Walnut Cherryville (Book 1 Eternal Feud Series)
Reunion at Walnut Cherryville (Book 1 Eternal Feud Series)
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Reunion at Walnut Cherryville (Book 1 Eternal Feud Series)

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Received Third Prize in the 2013 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Awards.

**Professionally edited by an Amazon CreateSpace editor**

Johnny Cockit accidently murdered a man when he was ten years old, which is why he was sent to Sonoran Correctional High School, a gender-segregated boarding school located in Phoenix, Arizona. Two months before graduation, Johnny and his friends are drugged and abducted by Walnut Cherryville secret watchers during an afternoon counseling session. Making decisions about the future has never felt important until the students are forced to work in a remote produce factory owned by the vengeful Quinton family. Walnut Cherryville is no ordinary factory; it’s the Quintons’ futuristic desert village governed by the principle that people live better-quality lives when they don’t make their own decisions. To ease the burden of life’s basic yet complicated choices, the government limits misdirection by choosing every citizen’s career path and lifestyle. Johnny and his friends plot an escape but must avoid being recaptured because abandonment of the village is a crime punishable by death. In a scandalous turn of events narrated by Johnny and his delinquent friends Vincent, Laura, and Collins, they discover that the reason they were captured roots back to an ancient family feud between the Cockit and Quinton families.

Due to strong sexuality, this book is intended for young adults ages 14 and up.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherLauren Salem
Release dateMar 20, 2013
ISBN9781301745999
Reunion at Walnut Cherryville (Book 1 Eternal Feud Series)
Author

Lauren Salem

Lauren Salem currently lives in Pennsylvania with her boyfriend, Brian, and her cat, Oswald George. She works for a user-experience consultancy as a research associate, compiling data and organizing spreadsheets about digital design trends. Reunion at Walnut Cherryville, a third-prize winner in the 2013 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Awards, is her first published novel. In her spare time, she enjoys swimming, cooking, baking, and playing games.

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    Reunion at Walnut Cherryville (Book 1 Eternal Feud Series) - Lauren Salem

    Reunion at Walnut Cherryville

    By

    Lauren Salem

    Reunion at Walnut Cherryville

    Lauren Salem

    Copyright 2013 by Lauren Salem

    Smashwords Edition

    TABLE OF CONTENTS

    Chapter 1: Johnny

    Chapter 2: Vincent

    Chapter 3: Laura

    Chapter 4: Collins

    Chapter 5: Johnny

    Chapter 6: Vincent

    Chapter 7: Laura

    Chapter 8: Collins

    Chapter 9: Johnny

    Chapter 10: Vincent

    Chapter 11: Laura

    Chapter 12: Johnny

    Chapter 13: Laura

    Chapter 14: Collins

    Chapter 15: Vincent

    Chapter 16: Collins

    Chapter 17: Johnny

    Chapter 18: Laura

    Chapter 19: Collins

    Chapter 20: Johnny

    Chapter 21: Vincent

    Chapter 22: Johnny

    Chapter 23: Collins

    Chapter 24: Laura

    Chapter 25: Collins

    Chapter 26: Vincent

    Chapter 27: Laura

    Chapter 28: Johnny

    ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

    I would like to thank my sister, Julia Salem, for always enthusiastically volunteering to be the first person to read my stories. She is a great listener and contributed many of her own ideas to this book, which made it what it is today. Her editing and marketing efforts are much appreciated.

    I also want to give a special thanks to my friends: Anne Janecek, for bringing Walnut Cherryville to life with her spectacular illustrations, as well as Linda Rutledge and Erin Teeple for being my constructive critics and editors.

    Lastly, I thank my parents for their patience, support, and encouragement.

    Chapter 1: Johnny

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    Counselor Hank was a persistent man invested in correcting the lives of troubled teenagers. Behind his black, rectangle-rimmed glasses, fancy suit, and British accent, he was just a multiple choice test asking me the same question in different ways twenty million times. When he invited my friends and me to a late lunch, I felt like it was a trap to continue our counseling sessions, but we agreed to it under one condition: he must bring a lady friend from the other side of the fence. I would do anything to get out of Sonoran Correctional High School, a boarding school for juvenile delinquents, who otherwise would have faced jail time for their crimes. When I was ten years old, I murdered someone, and then my biological parents got divorced. Shortly after the murder, my father died, but I didn’t think about that too much anymore.

    I wonder who he’s gonna bring, Collins mumbled while brushing his teeth. She better be hot. I hope he brings that girl with the dark eyeliner, the one who always presses her boobs up against the fence at lunchtime.

    Everyone looked forward to lunchtime, not because we got to eat or because we didn’t have to sit (sleep) through boring lectures, but because this was the only time of day we got to see any girls. The school was divided by gender with the correctional school for girls on the other side of the fence. Every day we had a choice to eat either inside or outside. I know for a fact that about 99.9 percent of us chose to eat outside so we could watch the girls eat in very suggestive ways. Laura, the girl Collins was in love with, would press her boobs up against the fence and let us touch them for five dollars a feel. Many girls would let us kiss them if we gave them three dollars, or they would kiss or feel each other, but I just preferred to watch whatever I could see from a distance. Sometimes, if the boys got too close without paying, the girls yelled at them and stopped the show until they paid. Those girls would run my pockets dry, so I chose my seat carefully. An arm’s length distance from the fence, also known as front row, cost two dollars for guys who were just watching. Second-class seats were at the tables, and those were free. Rain or shine, the show always went on at lunchtime while the teachers were bitching about us in the teacher’s lounge.

    I think I know that girl from somewhere, Vincent added as he applied a heavy layer of black eyeliner. Vincent was the Goth of the group who always dressed in tight black clothes, which contrasted against his frail, pale-skinned body and blue eyes. He used coal-colored dye for his root touch-ups every Sunday, so no one would notice that he really had blonde hair.

    Did you bang her? Collins asked.

    No.

    "How could you know her and not bang her?"

    Vincent rolled his eyes, but I laughed as I slicked back my brown hair. There was no better way to say nice to meet you to a nice girl than a pair of washed-out, holy jeans; a wife-beater; and a red flannel shirt.

    Collins, hurry up. We have to meet the driver in five minutes, I said.

    Collins grabbed a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt from his locker and quickly dressed. When he was done, we ran to the front of the school to meet up with Counselor Hank, singing Girls, Girls, Girls. Collins opened the car door, and there she was, the girl he was hoping for: a beautiful stallion with baby blues surrounded by dark eyeliner, choppy blonde hair, and curves like a rollercoaster.

    I could imagine a mini toy truck riding those curves as she was lying down sideways on the bed. The engine would struggle up her thigh, then stop at her hip for a rest before the deep drop down her waistline.

    Look at you all: tall, chocolate, and handsome, she said. I’m Laura and you are?

    Co-co-co—

    Collins, I said, get in the van. I nudged him; he snapped out of it and got in the van. I got in next, followed by Vincent who closed the door.

    The driver took us to a café a few blocks from the school. We all sat around a table outside on the patio under a rainbow umbrella. The café patio was fenced in and decorated with live cacti and southwestern pottery. The waitress handed us our menus and took our drink orders.

    A pitcher of mango tango smoothie for the table, please, Counselor Hank said.

    Once the waitress left, silence brewed like a strong cup of moonshine while we stared at our menus. I didn’t know what to talk about with Laura and apparently neither did Collins or Vincent. Hey, I’m Johnny, I said slickly in my mind. How awkward is this…ha…ha…ha.

    Thank you all for coming, Counselor Hank said. Though you did not have a choice in the matter, I appreciate that you did not cause a ruckus in front of the other students.

    Why do you think we’d make a ruckus? You payin’ for lunch, right? Collins asked as he pointed at the counselor. If you ain’t, I’ll dine and dash!

    There will be no need for that, Collins. I’m perfectly capable of paying for your lunch, the counselor responded. I brought you here because I just want you to relax and think about your future.

    Not this again, I complained. How many counseling sessions are you going to waste, talking about what I’m going do after high school?

    As many as it takes, Johnny. You all are high school seniors now and will be graduating very soon. Now please, no more talking until I give you permission.

    Free will needs no permission, Vincent added.

    Let’s begin, the counselor said as he took out a notepad and pen from his bag. Where do you see yourself next year? In your vision, what are you doing?

    Swimming in the cash that I make from the brothel in Las Vegas, Laura answered cheerfully. I’m gonna be legal next year!

    Pro-NBA basketball player, Collins added.

    I will not conform to be another worker bee in society, Vincent said.

    I don’t know, I said. This just doesn’t seem important.

    The waitress brought the pitcher of mango tango smoothie. Are we ready to order?

    Just a few more minutes, the counselor said. This will be the most important decision of your life…

    I poured myself a glass and passed it on as the counselor blabbed nonstop about making choices. The creamy cold mango and banana flavors danced on my tongue as my mind drifted into a better place: a field of deer grass with dandelions whipping around in the wind. I kicked my shoes off, threw my socks away, and ran barefoot across the field…sometimes doing cartwheels…in my boxers. The best feeling in the world was as simple as the earth between my toes. Toward the end of the smoothie, my vision of the real world became blurry, and my eyelids couldn’t stay open for even another second. My body became limp, the smoothie shattered on the ground, and my head smacked against the table. In my mind, I felt sick and started throwing up as I hovered over the deer grass. After relieving myself of the poison, I lay down on my back, gazing at the clouds in the sky, when I heard a voice from beyond the fields.

    They all look pretty out to me, a man’s voice said.

    I sat up and looked around, but there was no one else in the field except me. Hello? The ground began to tilt, causing me to roll down the hill. As I fell down a steep drop alongside the grassy hill, I saw a rocky creek at the bottom of the drop. Two thousand feet until collision: my eyes widened, and my heart jumped in fear. One thousand five hundred feet until collision: I was trying to snatch the grass, but it kept slipping through my hands. One thousand feet until collision: I held on to two handfuls of grass for dear life. Sweat dripped down my face as my heart fluttered. I got to take a few deep breaths before the earth began shifting again. The grassy ground now hung over my dangling body, and the sky was beneath my feet. The grass slowly broke from its roots. What would happen when I hit the sky?

    OK, just tie their hands, and throw them in, the voice said before the last few blades of grass broke off. The wind whipped through my hair and clothes as I fell a few thousand feet. The clouds separated between my fingers, and, no, they did not feel like cotton balls. This was unfortunate. Before I realized what was coming ahead, my body fell on a transparent glass, and I got a quick glimpse of the world beyond the field.

    Shit, his eyes—

    Shhhhh, another man whispered with his finger over his mouth. The shadowy men stepped back, letting the sun shine brightly into the glass. Darkness began to consume the light from two opposite ends of the glass until all the light had vanished.

    What was that? You don’t think he saw us, do you?

    Nah, it’s just a reaction. He won’t remember what he saw when he wakes up.

    Chapter 2: Vincent

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    I knew the mango tango smoothie was contaminated before I drank it. Someone put a sedative in the drink before it went into the blender but didn’t grind it up properly. The white, crumbly pill was still evident in the smoothie when the waitress served it to us, but I was the only person who didn’t drink it. For Johnny, the glass became half-empty fairly quickly, even though he sipped it through a straw. Collins ditched his straw, threw it on the floor, and chugged it, like a man, with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. Laura used her straw like a spoon and occasionally mixed the smoothie. Counselor Hank finished his last because he was more focused on the conversation. He only took a few sips between sentences when he talked so much his mouth became dry. No one was listening to him. Johnny seemed to stare up into the umbrella’s undercarriage for quite a long time. He was probably daydreaming. When Collins finished chugging the smoothie, he coddled his head in his arms from the agonizing brain freeze. I gazed at Laura, which made her feel uncomfortable. She’d smile at first and then bounce around in her chair, trying to avoid my never-ending eye contact.

    No one noticed the danger that was right in front of them because they were all too distracted by something else. Who contaminated the smoothie? I thought it was either the waitress or Counselor Hank, but why would he drink it if he knew it was contaminated? Everyone was facedown on the table within a few minutes. I pushed the smoothie aside. Out of nowhere, a dart flew into my neck, and I fell asleep like the rest of them. At that point it was doubtful that Counselor Hank had anything to do with this…unless he was crazy enough to drug himself and pretend he was just like one of us. What about the waitress? She never came back to take our order. Hmm…

    I gazed at the counselor, who lay on his belly, sleeping with his hands tied behind his back like the rest of us. The cargo truck hit a bump on the road, causing a large box to fall on the sleeping hostage. The counselor groaned and struggled to roll the box off his back. I noticed the tape was peeling off the box, and I was curious about what could be inside. Maybe the contents of the box would give me a clue about who abducted us or where we were going. I used the wall to help push myself on my feet before I kneeled next to the counselor, grasped the tape with my teeth, and pulled the box open. About fifty packages of blueberries marked with a WCV label were packed away in that box. This didn’t really help. The label didn’t mean anything to me.

    Where are we? Laura asked. Why are my hands tied behind my back?

    I had the strangest dream ever, Johnny added.

    Someone get this box off me!

    Which one of you mother-fudgers did it? Collins demanded. It was the counselor all along! I knew he had an ulterior motive for taking us out to lunch. I shouldn’t have fallen for it.

    We were all abducted, I said.

    Everyone gasped and started to panic.

    Everyone calm down, Johnny interrupted. As soon as this truck stops, we’re going to get out of here. We just need a plan.

    Everyone became silent.

    Enlighten us, Johnny, I said.

    I’m sure if we just talk to them everything will be OK, the counselor suggested.

    They don’t look like they wanna talk. I mean, they abducted us and all, Collins argued. Don’t you think if they wanted to talk they would have been a little friendlier?

    I have a plan, Johnny interjected. We should hide behind these boxes, so when they move the boxes they’ll be surprised when we kick them in the face.

    Violence is not the answer, the counselor said. Adults handle situations by reasoning with one another. Johnny, you don’t know anything about the situation. Kicking the people in the face will probably make our situation worse.

    I think the counselor is right, I added. Since we don’t have the use of our hands, there isn’t much we can do to hurt them without getting ourselves into more trouble. We would only be able to run away if we knocked them out. We don’t know how many of them are out there, or if they’re armed. Actually, I do know they have tranquilizer guns. I got shot after you guys drank your smoothies.

    The truck came to a stop, and everyone hushed. Our heads turned to stare at the door with wide eyes. The lock clicked open, and the door rolled up into the truck.

    Y’all look like you saw a ghost, a man in a black uniform said. I’m Herb, and I’ll be escorting you to your final destination, so—

    Collins shrieked in fear. Did you hear what he said, you guys? ‘Final destination’…You know what that means? We’re all gonna die at the end!

    Son, you watch far too many movies, Herb replied. "This is nothing like Final Destination, but it can be, if you like."

    I’m not sure if you’re trying to make me feel better or worse.

    Four other men in black uniforms approached the truck.

    Everybody out, Herb said.

    As I got out of the truck, I noticed each man wore the same logo I found on the box of blueberries. The circular patches were plainly designed and said WCV above the words Herb and Guard. Herb grabbed the rope, tied my hands together, pressed what felt like a gun against my back, and told me to walk.

    What’s that? I asked.

    You don’t want to find out. Now do what I say.

    Who are you people? Collins shouted.

    Start walking now!

    My feet shuffled through the sand as the strong sun blazed in my eyes. The guards closed and locked the gate behind us. There was nothing but sand and gates around us, and it seemed like we were walking in the middle of nowhere. My foot hooked on something, causing me to fall to my knees, where I was suddenly ambushed by a skeleton that popped out from beneath the sand. Sand flew into my eyes from the skeleton’s eye sockets, and I blinked several times to try to get it out. Herb quickly pulled me up and pushed me to continue walking. I walked the rest of the way in the dark with my eyes closed. A few minutes later, I couldn’t feel the sun on my face anymore, and the temperature felt cooler. A door closed and locked behind me.

    Someone push his hands through the bars so I can untie him.

    My arms were pressed up against the cold metal bars, and my hands were freed.

    Have some water, the guards said before they walked away.

    Vincent, are you OK? Johnny asked. Sit down. The guards are gone.

    I feel like I have a million cuts in my eyes, I responded as I slowly sat down on the cement floor.

    I’m right behind you. Lie down into my lap. I’m going to flush your eyes out with water.

    Once I was lying in his lap, he held my eyelids open and dripped water into my eyes. I blinked a few times in an attempt to restore my vision. We were surrounded by black bars and brick walls. Everyone looked exhausted and sweaty.

    Drink your water, Johnny said as he handed me the bottle.

    I think I’ll pass. It’s probably poisoned.

    The bottle was sealed. I think it’s fine. If you don’t drink, you’ll dehydrate.

    Fine, I said before I gulped down all the water.

    Do you think anyone’s looking for us? Laura asked.

    If the office notices you didn’t check back into school by the end of the day, then they’ll be looking for us, the counselor said. He took out his cell phone. I’m not getting any service. He stuck his arm through the bars, reaching his phone into the hall. Still no service.

    I moved to the darkest corner of the cell and sat by myself while everyone else was engaged in pointless conversation. They were all afraid and wanted to leave, but I wanted to stay and find out what this strange place was all about. There was no point in going back to the school because soon enough I’d graduate and have to go back home where I wasn’t wanted. During a Christmas party almost eighteen years ago, two senators (one Democrat, the other Republican) took a drunken roll in the hay, resulting in me, the mistake that created the family values campaign. My parents made decisions based on how negatively something would affect their image and campaign, so naturally when the press found out Mom was pregnant, she had to get married. Growing up in such an unconventional family with no siblings was rough. All the media attention, cameras flashing, nagging reporters, and press conferences, not to mention all the fighting…I got tired of keeping up my parents’ image. I wanted to be myself, and this life wouldn’t let me do that, so I jumped. I casually walked into a five-story building, took the staircase up to the roof, and jumped. As I fell, the cameras were still flashing, and reporters were still gathered around, filming my every move. It all ended once I hit the ground.

    The EMTs rushed me to the hospital, where I stayed for several months, sleeping in a coma as my body mended several broken bones. When I woke up, I had a whole new life. To save face, my parents enrolled me in Sonoran Correctional High School.

    Chapter 3: Laura

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    Without a bed, sheets, or pillows, I had to fall asleep last night on a cold concrete floor trapped in a prison cell with a bunch of dogs. After an afternoon of panic, everyone calmed down by the evening as we all ran low on energy from no food. Yesterday was incredibly hot, and there was no water left by sundown. We didn’t know we had to conserve our water or that no one would be around to bring us anything. Did they forget we were in here? Not a soul walked by after the guards locked us up. The night was freezing cold, and I could have used a blanket…Instead, I got spooned by Collins. I don’t spoon for free, so he’s going to pay for that. When I woke up, Collins was still asleep, so it was easy for me to slip into his pockets for spare change. Unfortunately, a single dollar bill was the only money he had among a chewed wad of gum, lint balls, and pencil erasers. What a cheapskate. I slipped the dollar into my pocket and threw the rest of his crap on the ground. All of a sudden, cold water splashed against my back, and I froze in panic.

    I love doing that to the newcomers, a guard laughed. He threw another bucket of water into the cell, and everyone woke up. You lucky it ain’t pee.

    All right, that’s enough, a young Mexican woman said as she walked in with a tray of food in her hand.

    The guard put the key in the lock and began to twist it. Don’t think you can run away now. I still have electric volts on my belt, and you’re all wet, so it wouldn’t be wise of you to try anything smart.

    The door opened, and the short lady handed me a plate of eggs, toast, and mixed fruit with a pint of orange juice. I began to stuff my face, forgetting my ladylike manners.

    Hi, I’m Veronica, she said.

    I heard her, but I didn’t want to stop eating to respond. This was probably going to add an inch to my waistline. Speaking of waistlines, the orange jumpsuit didn’t do Veronica’s any justice. After a few seconds of silence, she moved on to Johnny.

    Thank you, Veronica, I’m Johnny.

    It’s nice to meet you, she responded.

    We have a lot of questions. Do you think you can answer them for us?

    I’m just the food server. Kenneth will be by soon to give you a tour. It’s better if he answers your questions. Sorry about Barley; he’s my stupid brother.

    Hey, that’s not nice, the guard responded as he locked the door.

    Enjoy your meal, Veronica said as she and Barley walked away.

    When every last bite of food was cleaned off my plate, I belched loudly—by accident, of course. Despite the fact that it was an accident, everyone turned to look my way.

    I’ve never seen one of you do that before, Collins said.

    I didn’t know what to say. Was it really that surprising that a lady could burp? We did it all the time in front of each other but usually not in front of the men, our lunch clients.

    Considering the circumstances, I’m not really myself right now, I said.

    At this point, there was nothing I wouldn’t do for a bubble bath and some alone time. My body ached, and I felt like everyone was judging me before they got to know me. Lunchtime was the only time I acted in that perfect way that turned men on: polite, silent, and sexy. I couldn’t imagine how much money I’d lose if I burped in a man’s face during a session.

    * * *

    When the bell rang, releasing us to fifth period, I was finally able to relieve myself since the girls didn’t care what we did in front of each other. The teacher for fifth period was always five to ten minutes late to class, which gave us enough time to count our money and record what we earned that day. By the end of lunch, I got money stuffed in my bra, pockets, panties, and shoes. Random teachers who walked past me in the halls gave me strange looks because they noticed that the size of my boobs and butt had plumped up instantly. After I spilled my money out on the desk, counted it, and organized it into neat piles of ones and fives, Tammy recorded what I earned in her notebook.

    At the end of class, Tammy awarded the top five earners with a golden star sticker that got bestowed upon each girl’s forehead. I always got a star. Behavior meant everything at lunchtime. The unmannerly girls never made enough earnings to get a star. This may not have been important to all the girls at school, but it was important to me. After all, how else was I supposed to raise enough money to support myself after I graduated? I needed enough money to get to Vegas and find a place to live. I couldn’t go back home. My parents didn’t want a whorish home wrecker living in their house.

    * * *

    I heard footsteps approaching, and shivers traveled down my spine. I grabbed the bars and leaned my head against them. Could this get any worse? A young man with a neatly ironed, black Armani suit and matching Prada pressed-leather loafers strutted down the prison catwalk. He stopped in front of our cell, gave me a piercing glare with his powerful emerald eyes, and placed the laundry bag he held on the floor. He was definitely fierce and had an amazing bone structure…one of the best I’d seen.

    I’ve been expecting you, he said to the group.

    They keep sending one goon after another, Johnny said. I’m tired of all this nonsense. What’s going on here?

    I’m Kenneth Quinton, the soon-to-be governor of Walnut Cherryville Village.

    Where are we? I asked.

    This is where you will start your new life. A better life than the one you led before, Kenneth replied. I have a lot of information to go over, so no more questions until after the tour.

    Kenneth pulled out folded orange jumpsuits from his bag and handed each of us one through the bars. It was the most wretched piece of clothing I’d ever seen: a one-piece jumpsuit that buttoned up with long sleeves that was all orange, except for the white nametag on the right breast pocket that said Laura and Gatherer in black stitching. The Walnut Cherryville oval logo that read WCV was printed on the back. Beautiful man—why would you make me wear these rags?

    Excuse me, I said, holding up the ugly jumpsuit. What is this for?

    You’re going to wear that to work every day.

    Work?

    Well, don’t tell me, princess, that you’ve never gotten your hands dirty before.

    I had, but mostly with the neighbor’s unborn children. It was a living that paid better than working at my father’s restaurant as a dishwasher.

    These are for your head so you don’t get sunburned, Kenneth said, while handing us all blue patterned bandanas.

    What the hell…was I working outside?

    And finally, your black sneakers in all the correct sizes, Kenneth said as he slipped them through the bars.

    Ick…This outfit kept getting uglier by the minute.

    Please change into your uniform now, and discard the clothes you’re wearing into this bag.

    The boys began undressing, but I hesitated.

    What’s wrong, princess? Kenneth asked.

    Well, first of all, you calling me ‘princess,’ second, stripping in front of you, and lastly, this hideous outfit!

    The immature boys laughed.

    I strongly advise you to put on the uniform.

    And if I don’t put this on, what are you going to do to me?

    The uniform is for your own safety. The village, myself included, will be very insulted if you don’t like the appointed community attire, Kenneth said.

    You’re a pig, I said as I lifted my shirt over my head. They hooted and whistled at me while I undressed, but the minute I put on the jumpsuit, they all stopped. I was forced to hand in my Hollister Skinny Jeans and my spaghetti-strap tank top with the lace trims for a baggy jumpsuit that left much to the imagination. No one would ever know how hot I was in a baggy jumpsuit that made me look like a fat girl. At least I got to keep my Miraculous Push-Up Bra from Victoria’s Secret.

    It seems like, based on your choice of thong, I interrupted the plans you had for tonight, Kenneth said.

    You could say that, I replied.

    Laura! Counselor Hank shouted. I can’t believe what I’m hearing…and seeing.

    Can we please get on with the tour? Why can’t you guys talk about me behind my back like normal people instead of in my face?

    Kenneth opened the cell, and everyone walked out. This way, he said as he led us back into the sandy village. Walnut Cherryville Village is the safest place on earth. We do not have any crime because we eliminate all temptations. All citizens of Walnut Cherryville are equal and live carefree lives unconcerned about their monetary status. We take the stress out of your life by making decisions for you. We work for the community, and it works for us. I think you’ll really enjoy your new home. Walnut Cherryville offers only the best quality of life. This is where you’ll be staying during your off time and at night. We call it the glass house.

    Kenneth stopped in front of a skyscraper made of glass and scanned his key to unlock the doors, and we walked into the lobby. My mind was overwhelmed. I could see everything everyone was doing in all the neighboring rooms and on the floors above me because the ceiling, floors, and walls were made out of glass.

    There is no privacy in this building to protect your safety and the safety of others. The logic is simple: people are less likely to commit crimes when other people are watching. Everything is glass, so there are no secrets kept from the community. There are several guards on each of the forty floors of this building, not to mention security cameras. Here are your keys. Kenneth handed each of us a plastic scan key. "You will need to use these to unlock the doors. They

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