The Azuli, Cassidy Shay [books to read now .txt] 📗

really known, or if it was because I had my first crush on Carl. But whatever the reason was, I remember the need to feel Carl’s lips on mine. Now that it had actually happened, I couldn’t think of any reason why I ever wanted to kiss him in the first place.
I was in the middle of telling this story to Jack when Carl walked in. He looked deep in thought , and he looked as if he couldn’t concentrate on anything but whatever was going on in his brain, because he didn’t hear my story. Even though he didn’t seem to have noticed that we were talking about him, I felt myself blush. I didn’t want Carl thinking that I still had some secret crush on him.
“Jack, I need to talk to you about something,” he said, frowning at the floor. He looked up at me, and I took that as a hint, as well as an excuse, to get away from him. I left the room and headed to Macy’s cell to see how her night had been. When I reached my old living quarters, I was surprised to see another girl on my old bed. Macy was nowhere in sight.
“Hi,” I said, dragging the single syllable out. “I’m Penny, Macy’s old roommate. Do you know where she is right now? I want to talk to her.” The girl shrugged, and looked down at her lap. I’d seen this girl before, of course. It was very rare to see someone that you hadn’t ever seen before, unless they were new to the Academy. There are only a couple hundred Azuli on each floor, so everyone knows each other by face, if not by name. I had seen this girl many times, but I’d never talked to her. After a couple seconds, she looked back at me.
“I’m Miranda. I used to be Katherine’s roommate. You can sit here until Macy gets back. I don’t mind.” The girl was small, like me. She had black hair, bangs, and big, brown eyes. Her eyelashes were long dark. Her eyes held the same sadness that could be found in the blue, swirling sea of every Azulate’s eyes. She looked like she was several years younger than me, and my heart ached for her, as it did for any Azulate that was younger than me. I was unable to feel sorry for her, since I had been through everything she’d been through and more. It was a strange emotion, but one that I was used to. However, the fact that we’d been through similar things brought us closer, even though we’d only just met.
Neither of us said anything, but the silence wasn’t awkward at all. Instead, it was a welcome thing. When Macy came in, I immediately stood up to hug her. “Macy, I don’t know how I’m going to do this,” I said into her shoulder. “Last night wasn’t too bad because I was asleep so quickly, but… tonight, I know I’ll be wide awake.”
She tightened her grip on me for a second, and then held me at arm’s length. “You will be fine, Penny Miller. I promise that you will be absolutely fine. You are a strong girl, and you will make it through this. I promise.”
We sat on her bed talking for a few minutes, but I noticed that Miranda was starting to look uncomfortable. I made an excuse to leave, and went to my room to wait for dinner time. When I got there, Carl was sitting at the table writing.
What? At the Academy, all writing was banned. We learned how to form the letters before we got to the Academy, of course, but as soon as we were admitted, we were no longer allowed to write.
He saw me and instantly crumpled up the paper. “I wasn’t writing,” he said, panic in his voice. He had a right to panic. Immediately, I thought of a rumor that had been spread throughout the entire Academy since before I’d arrived.
Years before, a man had been found writing. The boy who found him turned him in, and the Vipero had found hundreds of pieces of writing- letters, poetry, and prose.
As punishment for his crime, the Vipero had cut off eight of his fingers, as well as beating him within an inch of his life. They’d left his index finger and thumb on his right hand intact, only so that he could continue to draw Memories.
When they discovered him writing again, he’d been exterminated.
I didn’t know how true this rumor was. Macy hadn’t been there to witness it, and she informed me once that she never met anyone who had witnessed it either. It could have been true, or it could have been used as a scare tactic. I knew that the Vipero often started rumors, and let the Azuli take care of the rest. The horrifying, gory details would be passes down through the years, getting more and more exaggerated each time it was told. It was hard to know what was true and what wasn’t.
Still, I knew that the Academy was perfectly capable and willing to do such things. Despite my loathing, I didn’t want that to happen to Carl. I didn’t want it to happen to anyone. But he didn’t know that.
“It’s alright,” I said. “We all have our secrets. I have tons of them. I was teaching Collin how to draw. Oh, and I also didn’t turn in a couple of the Memories that I drew out.” I’m not sure why I chose to trust Carl with this information. I blurted it out all in one breath, not really thinking it through. The whole thing was kind of an accident. He could have used it as blackmail. And although I knew he was writing, the combined punishment of my infractions would be much greater than his would be, if we were to tattle.
He stared at me, making me nervous. “Why would you do all that?” he asked.
I shrugged. “He wanted to learn. You do strange things for the people you love. As for the Memories, I just didn’t feel like I should have to give them up. They were given to me. If God wanted the scientists to have them, then he would have given the Memories to them.”
He kept staring, and then I reached out my hand. “Let me see what you wrote,” I demanded. He must have been in shock, because he handed me the paper without hesitation. I uncrumpled it and saw that he had written a poem. I looked into his eyes and saw pain, and that explained why he had written what he had written.


The shadow closes in
And it’s dark all around
It’s cold to the touch
It doesn’t make a sound

The shadow fills everything
On the clocks and on the walls
It travels through the door
Up the stairs and down the halls

Touching it is dangerous
This is quickly learned
If you choose to touch it
You’ll be badly burned

A shadow burn is painful
Yes, full of pain it’s true
It’s both scalding and freezing.
Leaving you red, black, and blue

The pain from the shadow burn
Will never leave your mind
Always present, always there
Sneaking up from behind

Never really gone
Always really there
Soaking through your skin
In your blood and in your hair

You cannot escape it
It eventually will appear
Eating at your soul
Until even that disappears

Enveloping every aspect
Revealing all your lies
The shadow shows no mercy
While shattering your life

The shadow closes in
And it’s dark all around
It’s cold to the touch
It doesn’t make a sound.

“Wow, Carl,” I said. “This… this is… unexpected. I can’t believe this came from you. I never thought you’d be the poetic type.” I searched for a Memory, one that I loved.
A young man, not much more than a boy, sits down as his desk. His face is bright, eager. He grasps a pen in his hand, tightly as first. As he presses it onto a piece of paper, he presses too hard at first, making an indent on the paper. The pen drags, so he has to write slowly. As he continues, the pen becomes lighter, it becomes easier to write, and the boy’s hand flies across the page at a much greater speed.
The excitement behind his eyes grows, as his imagination pours out onto the page.
When he is done, he sits back, pleased with his masterpiece.

I tried to imagine Carl doing this, but I couldn’t do it. Even after reading what he had written, I couldn’t picture him letting his imagination run wild, at least not with something so dangerous. I thought about it later on, and I decided that his writing abilities explained why he had always been so dramatic about everything. I couldn’t believe that after all those years, there was so much that I didn’t know about Carl. What else is there?

When he finally recovered from the shock of my discovering his secret, he sat on his bed. “Please don’t tell anyone, Penny. Not even Jack. For years, I’ve kept this a secret. I would hate to have it out in the open now, after everything I’ve done to keep people from finding out.”
I snorted. “Jack doesn’t miss much. I doubt that he doesn’t know. He probably just didn’t want to say anything to you. But don’t worry about me telling anyone. I won’t be here for a long enough time to gain anything from it anyway.” I went to go sit on the bed, but he stopped me.
“You can stop being so indifferent about everything. I know you have opinions, and I know you aren’t really going to leave. You’ll lose your nerve before you leave, and then you’ll act all sheepish for a few days, until you get over it. Then you’ll go back to being the Penny that we all know and love.” His superior, sarcastic tone cut into my skin.
I stood up and walked over to him. “Why would I lose my nerve, Carl? Huh? What would possibly make me lose my nerve?” I tried to meet his eye, but he wouldn’t let me. “The idea of living with you for the rest of my life doesn’t make me want to stay. Neither does knowing that if I stay, I’ll be forced to bring a human being into this world, a world that keeps innocent people imprisoned for life just because they have certain physical characteristics.”
In the Memories, women took many different approaches to situations similar to mine. Some would simply refuse to be with a man, some would abort the babies if they did get pregnant.
Some simply didn’t care if their child had to live in horrible conditions, and showered them with love to make up for the cruelty around them.
But some women, I knew, had wanted to have children. Some women believed that it was their duty to create boys and raise them into men, so that they could help to fight for the freedom of the people.
I didn’t think that that last option would make much sense in my situation. What good can you do to help the revolution when you’re stuck inside a building with no way out?

I knew that having children was not an option that I was going to take.
Carl tried to speak, but I stopped him. “I know that I won’t lose my nerve if I remember that being caught means death. Death is much better than living here any longer, and bringing other human beings into the world to live here with me.”
Finally, he met my eyes. “Don’t