There are, or where, five dedications to choose from. There was justice which most of our military comes from. People who were guns first, think later. Purity, in which one devotes their entire existence to the light bringers, the ancient ones who brought fourth the existence of everything we know and all of creation. Purity devoted people do not curse, do not eat meat, never involve themselves in violence or violent behavior, and must meditate 4 times a day. They are the most targeted victims right now because they will not use violence to defend themselves no matter the outcome. There aren't many of them in The Hole at all. The third one is Devotion. This dedication may be the most toxic and dangerous one. Because these people dedicate and devote themselves completely to The Capital. They will do whatever they are told by those they serve even if they do not agree or it does nothing for them. They'll kill a child if that is what they're ordered to do. They follow blindly and without question. None of them reside in the hole, save a few who were kicked out for not being completely loyal but even they are kept at a distance from everyone else and watched carefully. The next dedication, my personal favorite, is the Stars. Focusing on compassion, equality, and inclusion. This dedication is packed full of activists, and people wanting to make a difference. It's the only dedication I've ever had any interest in being apart of. I was born into my dedication and shackled by it. Being a narrower was not fun—that is the fifth dedication that most people are unfortunately born into. The Narrow. It gets its name from the narrow and strict rules set in place. From a very young age I was taught to never talk back, always wear my uniform correctly, my hair pinned back or in a tight ponytail, no make up, speak only when spoken to, clean..everything (women were in charge of the cleaning and the cooking) no yelling or raising your voice to anyone at any time, no more than three meals a day, brush your teeth in a timely manner, only take 5 minutes to shower, any longer and you'd be beaten for it, women were not allowed to wear pants, I could go on and on. This dedication was the most repressed one of them all and you're probably thinking it's the worst one—it isn't. Each dedication had its own set of endless rules to follow, its own guidelines meant to control its followers. There were plenty of evil things lurking in dark corners and spaces of every dedication, no matter how free they seemed.
*
"If you come home with another one of these in your pocket I'm going to let your father handle it, do you understand me?" My mom—she had found another piece of a caramel candy in my sweater pocket I wore over my uniform. I simply nod, not having much to retort with. "Honestly, I don't understand why you do these things." She says before slamming my door shut, leaving me in my empty room. My father will be home from work soon and I know she's not going to tell him. That should make me feel better but it doesn't, all I feel is guilt because lying is not tolerated in this dedication and I know it's going to be hard for her to do so. I peel my sweater from my shoulders and hang it in my closet, I'm not sure why I brought the candy home. I'm not even sure why I accepted it in the first place. I'm tired of the rules, maybe that's why. I'm tired of the long long skirts that meet my feet, the collared button up shirts that feel like they're choking me on purpose. I'm tired of my long boring hair that I must keep tied up at all times..I hardly see the point in any of it. I decide to lock myself in my bathroom for the remainder of the evening, I'm safest there. It is extremely frowned upon to intrude on a lady while she is in the restroom in our community, especially when it's her personal one. I take my bun out of my hair carefully, letting it cascade over my shoulders and back. I have never had a haircut and so my hair is incredibly long and incredibly boring. I asked my mother once if I could cut it just by my shoulders and you'd have sworn I had asked her for a tattoo given her reaction. Women here are not allowed to cut their hair or wear makeup or anything of the sort. It is seen as a waste of time and too indulgent. My mom is not the bad guy, she never was. Everything she did, how nagging she was with me, was to protect me. I knew that, even as a young child— my brother and I were her life, her purpose. We were all she cared about most in this world.
*
My room is quite, and smells of dirty water—I don't care, it doesn't bother me. My blanket is warm and soft and all of the clothes I was given are warm and not ugly. I smile as I lay in bed because for the first time in my life, I am wearing pants. I don't care how old and dirty everything here is because this lifestyle has been embedded in me, in my skin. I have shot people to save my own life, I have fought, I have seen war. I have watched my family get gunned down in front of me and I will not let it go to waste. I will keep fighting, for them, for myself. I will not let their sacrifice be in vein. I want The Capital to know that it is their fault. That they created this person I have become and I will thank them for it when I see them, as I kill their people the same as they have done to my family.