It's been a couple of weeks since I last posted. There's been a slight change of plans.

I'm not publishing an eBook anytime soon.

I have my reasons, and even though I'm not ready to share right now, I promise when the time is right, I will. All I can say is that there may be bigger and better things in store! My story will make its way to the public one day, but not today. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that. 

I've tweaked the first few pages a little. The story is the same, but I've done some editing (as was suggested by an agent). I loved the feedback and critiques I received, so please keep them coming! That is, if they are tasteful and constructive and have an overarching sense of optimism and hope!

No complaints or negativity is allowed. As a popular meme floating around the internet might say, "Ain't nobody got time for that!"

Here is the latest edit of the same material I posted earlier, plus a little extra. Happy reading!

The Acquisition

By Emily Mitchell

Chapter 1: Last Day

            Today, I could lose everything.

            Today, I might say goodbye to the people I used to love. I don’t know if I will ever see them again, but I know they won’t miss me.

            Today, Emma Bauer may cease to exist.

Chapter 2: Preparation

            I slouched down further into the tub so the lukewarm water tickled the bottom of my ears. If I just slipped a few inches lower, and braved myself to stay below the surface, I could end it all. How easy it would be.

            But of course I never would. Death was not the solution. I just didn’t know what the solution was.

            “Emma, you better be out of that tub in two minutes or else!” Margaret shouted forcefully while banging on the bathroom door.

            There was always an else. I never knew what it was, but the else was always the alternative. My life as I knew could end today. The least she could do was let me soak in the tub a few more minutes. My toes weren’t even wrinkled.

            But that was my mother for you. Always a schedule to follow. Rules to abide by. Appearances to make. She may have given birth to me, but she was no longer my mother. She was Margaret, the woman I lived with.

            I didn’t always feel that way. In fact, for the first twelve years of my life, I loved that woman more than anyone in the world. She was my best friend. I never doubted she loved me. Then, I got sick. Really sick. With cancer. And suddenly she didn’t seem to care. Neither did Benton, my father for all intents and purposes.

            I slowly slipped further into the bath until it was to my nose. My hair fanned out under the water, blanketing my freckled shoulders. I felt safe here. Nothing could get to me.

            “Emma, I swear on all that’s holy, I will beat this door down if I have to!”

            Except her.

            Fine. I wanted to scream. Did she not realize what was happening today? Did she not realize that if things go badly, she’d probably never see me again? Or if she did see me again, that I wouldn’t be her daughter?

             The only conclusion I could come to was simple but utterly terrifying.

            My mother absolutely did not care.

            I hated her.

            I exaggerated standing up, splashing water around, making loud grunting noises as I stood. I wanted her to know I was obeying her command, like always, without saying a word. I yanked the stopper from the drain and felt the water level fall on my legs as I stared at my skeletal reflection in the mirror. My cheeks were sunken in, my clavicles were protruding from my shoulders, and my ribs could be seen without sucking in my non-existent gut.

            I stepped out of the tub onto the white shag rug lying on the white marble floors. I wrapped the towel around my bony body and took one last look in the mirror.

            I knew my life could change forever today, and even though my life now was pitiful, I didn’t want to leave it. A known danger was better than an unknown danger. I didn’t want to leave the comfort of my own bed, in my own room, with the hope that one day my parents would return to their former loving glory.

            I wasn’t ready to leave. I wanted to be Endorsed. I didn’t want to be classified Sterile. I didn’t want to move to some forsaken Barren and work as a slave for the Assembly. I didn’t want to be surgically altered to prevent reproduction.

            But I just couldn’t get out of my head how abundantly clear the Assembly has said they have no business with sick people.

            Did it matter that I was now completely healed? That I wasn’t sick anymore? I had no reason to be Sterile. I just had to stay positive. I would be Endorsed.

            I would be Endorsed.

            I would be Endorsed.

            But what if?

            The anxiety got the best of me. I fell to the ground and leaned against the door, sobs pouring from my eyes in thick streams, gasps sputtering from my heavy chest. I was terrified. What could I do to avoid this? Surely there had to be a way. But it was inevitable. It was either attend the Acquisition and face my fate or skip out and be arrested and condemned to the Outer Perimeter. That was a death sentence.

            I heard a much softer knock on the door than I heard before. “Emma? Are you…” Margaret paused, as if debating what to say. I instantly quieted and wiped my tears away. I would not give her the satisfaction of sensing my immense fear. She might enjoy it too much. “You’re needed in the dressing room.”

            I could hear the click of her stilettos as she walked away. I wanted to believe I had heard an ounce of remorse or regret in her tone, but I couldn’t afford to think I had. It would hurt far too much when I realized I hadn’t.

            I composed myself enough to walk to the dressing room. Margaret hired a stylist to help me prepare for the Acquisition.

            My hair, now partially dry, hung loosely against my back. Dull, stringy brown strands hung lifelessly below my shoulder blades. When Margaret told me she hired a stylist, I knew that was my best chance at being Endorsed. If she could make me pretty enough, maybe the judges would forget I was ever sick.

            “And you must be Miss Emma?” an annoying high-pitched voice squealed as I walked in, my naked body still wrapped in nothing but a towel.

            “You’re the stylist?” She looked my age, dressed in a red and white polka dot mini skirt, black boots, and black turtleneck sweater. Her white-blonde hair was pulled high on top of her head in a straight ponytail. Her skin was as white as mine, as most Endorsed individuals were, colored with apple-red lipstick and black eyeliner.

            “One of the best. My name is Missy. Would you look at that bone structure?” She firmly grabbed my chin and roughly turned my head from side to side, examining every square inch of my face. “There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll be classified as Endorsed when I’m through with you. Here, take this.”

            She handed me a robe to put on and pointed me to the other side of a partition she set up in my room. I obeyed, clinging to the hope she instilled, when my mother walked in.

            “Emma? You’re here.”

            “Mrs. Bauer!” Missy’s voice rang octaves higher than I thought humanly possible. All dogs in the neighborhood probably had perked ears. “She’s just through here, putting on her robe. I know exactly what to do.”

            She continued to rant to my mother about the supposed unbelievable transformation that was about to take place. I wanted to sneak a peek at Margaret’s face, but I was too scared of what I’d see. What if she didn’t approve?

            Despite three years of ignorance, I would still be crushed.

            I threw my wet towel on the floor, not caring if it got forgotten and left to mold, and slipped on the robe.

            “Her attire is in the dress bag. I thought ice blue would look ravishing. It is January after all, so nothing too warm, and with her brown hair and brown eyes, I thought it would be a nice contrast.”

            I stepped around the partition to meet my doom. I looked boldly at my mother. I didn’t want her to know what I was really feeling. She glanced back at me briefly before looking down at the floor. “Well, then. It sounds like you are all set. If you’ll excuse me.” She nodded at Missy and left.

            “Alright. Let’s get started.”

            An hour later, I sat awestruck in the chair. My hair was curled into tight ringlets and pinned back with diamond studded clips. My face was covered in expensive make-up, creating a lively, energetic look I hadn’t seen in years. I had rosy cheeks, baby blue eye shadow, and glitter in strategic places that made my face glow. My rose-colored lips smiled. I actually looked beautiful.

             My smile faded as I realized what, or rather who, I looked like. My mother.

            She was the last person I wanted to be.

            “And now for the piece de resistance.” She unzipped the gray dress bag hanging on the wall. A soft blue gown shone through, sparkles catching the light, throwing rainbows in every direction.

            “That’s for me?”

            “Of course. I don’t do things half-way.”

            I stood still with my hands over my head as Missy slipped the dress on over my head. The dress was fitted at the waist and hung to my feet. It was high-necked, but it only had one strap, leaving my left shoulder bare for all to see my bony protrusions. Naturally, the bust was much too large.

            Sensing my despair, Missy continued. “Have no fear. Emma, meet your new best friends.” She held two rubber cups in her hands. It didn’t take long before I realized what she was going to do.

            “Are you serious?” I stepped back in response. She wasn’t going there.

            “Look, it’ll help the dress fit better.”

            “I’ll look like a freak. A twig with boobs. Nope. Not happening.”    

            “Yes, it is happening, so quit your belly-aching and get over here.”

            “Not on your life.” I backed up, searching the room for an excuse to leave. She guarded the door. I wasn’t going to get out no matter how hard I tried.

            “Listen. I get it. You want to be perfect just the way you are,” she started. “But if you want to be Endorsed, you have to make yourself perfect. They will be looking for every flaw, every negative thing about you. They are looking for reasons why you won’t be good enough. You can’t give them a single excuse, do you understand? Not one, as superficial as it may be.”

            “So you admit I’m flawed. Gee, thanks.”

            “No, that’s not what I meant and you know it.” She sighed heavily and her face softened. “I don’t tell many people this, but I have a soft spot for contestants in the Acquisition. I was thirteen when my brother, my absolute best friend, was chosen to be sterilized. It was the worst day of my life. I actually wished I would be classified the same when my day came just so I could see him again. Obviously I wasn’t, but I’ll never forget how I felt that day. I don’t want you or your family to go through what I did.”

            I took a step forward without realizing it. “What happened to your brother?”

            She twisted her face toward me, her eyes tormented, and then looked back at the comb in her hands. “I don’t know. But I do know that it’s the suckiest feeling in the world. I vowed to do all I could to help people stay in the Harvest, to stay together as a family. That’s why I became a stylist. I could make people beautiful so they could stay.”

            I knew she was right. To be Endorsed, I needed to be exactly what they wanted me to be, which was physically perfect. A fifteen, almost sixteen-year-old girl, should have a bigger chest than I did. It was preferable for child-bearing. I knew that, but still.

            I caved. “At least let me put them in.”

            “That’s my girl.”

            I whipped my head back up. I was not her girl. I wasn’t anyone’s girl.

After I was ready, I rode with my parents and my brother in the family car. My little brother Jackson was now ten years old and fully loved by the parents. I wasn’t sure if he recognized the prejudice at home or not, but I certainly was not going to call it out to him. I wanted him to remain as young and innocent as possible.

            “Are you nervous?” Benton asked.

            Assuming he was talking to Jackson, like he always was, I continued to stare out the window at the passing trees while I contemplated my awaiting future.

            “Em?”

            That caught my attention. I hadn’t heard that nickname since before I got sick.

            “Me?”

            “Yes, you. Emma Jane Bauer.”

            Ah, there’s the irritated tone I knew so well.

            “Am I nervous? I’m about to find out if I’m good enough to live in this ridiculous town and one day have children. So, yes, I’m nervous.”

            “Watch the tone,” my mother barked.

            I just wanted to hit her.      

            Honestly, I hated feeling so negative about my parents. I still loved them so much, which only made my dislike for them so strong. How could I love two people who obviously hated me? It made me beyond angry.

            I refused an apology and turned my attention back to the window.

            “Are we there yet?” Jackson whined. “We’ve been driving forever!”

            “Jackson, honey, it’s been ten minutes. You’ll survive.”

            “But Mom! I’m starving!”

            I sat silently while my brother and parents talked about the little things in life. Apparently my mom decided to cook a chicken and rice casserole for dinner. My brother wanted to go to his friend’s house to play after dinner, something my dad seemed nervous about. They talked about the unusually warm weather for January and how bare the trees looked without their leaves.

            All the while, my world was crumbling.

            Sometimes I wondered why I wanted to be Endorsed so badly if it meant living with people who hated me. I reasoned that even living with my parents was better than being rejected by an entire town and condemned to a life of servitude.

            Eventually, we pulled into the parking lot of the town arena. It was on the outskirts of town, near the border of the Second Perimeter, where the Barren live. The reality of it all settled in.

            I thought I was going to vomit.

            “Alright, Emma, you go on in. We’ll meet you here when it’s over.” My dad ushered my mother and brother in through the front, leaving me alone to find my way. I looked around the parking lot for anyone else who might be here for the Acquisition. I saw one family with a red-headed girl obviously my age, walking hand in hand toward the back door. The mom was crying, the daughter nearly there, and the dad was looking as brave as could be.

            That’s how it’s supposed to be, I thought. My parents should be sad for this day. They should be worried about my fate. They should be holding my hand, giving me the support I so desperately need.

            I followed after them, assuming they were heading in the same direction I needed to be. A few other families had gathered around the back door by this point, each wishing farewell to their son or daughter, knowing it might be their last chance to embrace. I felt the tears begin to swell, so I dashed inside before I lost it.

            Just inside the glass door was a man in a purple uniform with a white fedora cocked to the side. “Your name, Miss?”

            “Emma Bauer.”       

            He scanned the list, looking for my name.

            “Bauer, Bauer. Got it. Go on in. Room thirty-eight on your right.”    

            I sauntered down the hall looking for room thirty-eight, my dress billowing softly behind me. I wasn’t in much of a hurry. I passed several rooms on my way. It seemed each contestant would have his or her own room. I appreciated that. I would rather be alone than be around others and have to act like my life was normal.

            When I finally found my room, a huge bouquet of roses sat on a table in front of a lighted mirror. The fragrance was almost overwhelming, sending my olfactory senses into a frenzy. I sat in the metal chair at the table and snatched the card from the vase, curious who could possibly care about me enough to buy me such an extravagant gift.

            I opened the card and gasped when I saw the name.

            You look beautiful today.       - Mom and Dad

            I wanted to scream.

Anger coursed through my veins. How dare they? How dare they ignore me for three years and then act like they care on the day I’m classified? What makes them think that’s okay? What makes them think I believe them?

            And oh, how I wanted to believe them.

            I threw the card in the trash and sat back down. I dropped my head into my hands and sobbed into the table. Everything in my life was so messed up. Why did I live in a place that divided the people like they did and think it acceptable? Why did my parents toy with my emotions so much?

            I sat quietly for a time, studying my small waiting room. It was very plain, with beige walls, a desk and chair, and a small couch. I took to lying down until I was told to do something. I counted the tiles on the ceilings, the flecks of gold in the walls. I did whatever I had to do to forget about what was about to happen and the possibility of being Sterile.

            I had to believe they’d look past the cancer. I had to believe they’d see the work Missy did.

            I just had to believe.

            “Miss Emma Bauer? You’re needed on stage in fifteen. Please report to the backstage area right now. It’s almost show time.”

            I sighed. Here we go.

Chapter 3: The Acquisition

            They lined us alphabetically just outside the door to the stage. A rough head count let me know there were about a hundred of us, more girls than boys. Everyone was dressed in their finest attire. It was obvious who was more prepared for the Acquisition than others. You had one type of people standing confidently, laughing at everyone else, all the while looking sickeningly beautiful. Then, you had people completely opposite. They looked like they were about to be sick or cry. Maybe both.

            I fell into the latter.

            An older woman with a graying bun on the back of her head came bustling out of the stage door. She wore a headset and talked rapidly to someone on the other end. She yanked the first person in line, who was only two people in front of me, to stand in front of the now open stage door. Pushing her mouthpiece from the headset down, she instructed us to follow behind the first person.

            “Marjorie is about to start. Just follow the directions she gives you. Good luck!” The woman gave us a silly thumbs-up and resumed talking to someone on the other end.

            “This is such a joke,” I heard someone say behind me. “I mean, do they really think we’re, like, stupid or something?”       

            I glanced at who it was over my shoulder. The stranger and I locked eyes. “You know what I mean?”

            The boy looked back at me like we had been talking for awhile. I didn’t really know how to respond.

            “Oh, um, what did you say?”

            He appeared to be in the scared-out-of-his-mind group. He had short curly blonde hair and was a little shorter than I was. He still had a little bit of a baby face.

            “Just…this whole Acquisition thing. It’s not fair.”

            Now, I wasn’t the smartest person in the room, but I knew well enough not to say something like that out loud.

            “What’s your name?” I asked.

            “Beckett. You?”

            “Emma.”

            “Have we met? You look familiar.”

            “Uh…no, I don’t think so.”

            “Oh.”

            His face then grew worried, his eye brows furrowed, layers of wrinkles clouding his forehead. He leaned in closer to me and I instinctively turned my head and brought my ear closer like he was going to tell me a secret. “Are you scared?” he whispered.

            Was I scared? I was terrified, but no one would ever know. “No,” I answered much too quickly. He stared blankly at me for a moment after my hasty response but then smiled.

            “Yes, you are. I can tell. It’s okay, you know. You aren’t alone.”

            I didn’t even know this kid. He had no claim to my personal emotions, even if he could see past my façade.

            We stared at each other for just a moment. He fidgeted with his sweaty hands, swayed back and forth, and kept wiping droplets of sweat off of his head. He was obviously a wreck.

            Maybe he needed someone to be strong for him. Maybe he was like me and had a crappy support system. I could try to be that person. Maybe.

            “I’m really not scared. Really.”

            I could tell he wasn’t buying it. He grinned again and played along. “Good. Me neither. I just, you know, wanted to say if you were scared that you could, like, hold onto me if you needed to. Just saying.”

            His playfulness must be a defense mechanism to hide his fear. Surprisingly, it relaxed me, but only a little. “Sure. Beckett, was it? I’ll…uh…I’ll remember that.” Just then, a velvety voice sounded throughout the speakers.

            “It’s that time again, folks. It is my honor to begin the proceedings of the fifty-sixth annual Boys and Girls Acquisition!”

            Applause echoed out of the arena and bun-lady frantically waved us in. Marjorie continued. “Allow me to introduce this year’s contestants!”