Drained

Our world has one ruler. 

One man, who controls it all.

Those from other worlds may be confused by our way of life, but we have to remind them that we aren’t the ones in charge. We are just strung along like puppets, following with blind loyalty. Our leader, Alan Hale, has put into place lots of rules and regulations since he came into power a couple decades ago, one of which includes draining the world of color. I never truly understood why until my parents explained it to me. Mr. Hale has a daughter. Specifically, a daughter who is colorblind. So, naturally, he thought that if his precious daughter couldn’t see color, the rest of the world shouldn’t be able to either. 

That’s how we got here.

A world deprived of color.

I personally have no clue what color looks like. I was born after Mr. Hale took it away. But my mother has seen it. So has my brother, as well as a lot of the others in the world. It’s never bothered me. Well, until I grew up. I’m sixteen now, and I’ve started to notice things. Things that made perfect sense before, but seem awfully strange now. Like how depressed most adults seem to look, and I don’t say that lightly. I mean, sure, there are people out there who couldn’t care less about not being able to see in color. But if all of those people are so sad without it, what would the world have looked like with it?

I have to know.

I trip on the sidewalk trying to avoid a runner who nearly collides with me.

“Hey!” I shout to their back. Shaking my head, I trudge on. Today is the start of my new internship. I’ve worked so hard to get it, there’s no chance I’m going to be late on the first day. When my guidance counselor told me about an internship position as Mr. Hale’s personal assistant, I knew I had to get it. 

So, that’s what I did.

I come to a stop at the front of a large metal gate. Finally, I’ve arrived at my destination; Hale Manor. Excitement thrummed in my veins. What better way to get my answers than the man who ignited the questions? I rocked back and forth on my heels, having no clue what to do. 

“Name,” a voice says, crackling from the intercom on the wall. 

“Beatrice Cushing,” I reply, speaking to the air. Instantly, the metal gates slowly swing open, revealing a beautiful lawn and a large driveway leading to an expansive mansion. I quickly make my way to the door, where two guards are standing. Their expressions give nothing away as they step away from the doors. Without warning, the doors open from the inside.

“Hello, Beatrice,” a man says, seemingly appearing out of thin air. He stands in the middle of the doorway, a smile stretching across his face. 

Alan Hale.

I take a sharp intake of breath, wondering how this could possibly be my life. I mean, I’m standing in front of Alan freaking Hale!

“Mr. Hale,” I greet, extending my hand for him to shake. He shakes it firmly, gaze never wavering. “It’s very nice to meet you, sir.”

“Au contraire, Beatrice. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I smile back at him. He isn’t at all like what I’d imagined. I thought he’d be more cold, impolite. However, that’s not true at all. At least, so far. “Please, come in. We have much to discuss.” He makes a sweeping gesture towards the inside of the manor, and I follow him in. 

“Sir, if you don’t mind my asking, why do you need a personal assistant?” Honestly, it was something I’ve been wondering since I heard about the internship. He just laughs. 

“As you might’ve noticed, I am getting a bit old. It’s been getting harder to do things–you know, the little tasks–when I have the world to run.” He leads me throughout the manor, my heels clacking on the marble floor. “So, that’s what you’ll be here for. Scheduling, payroll for the house staff, things like that. That won’t be a problem, will it?” Mr. Hale looks at me, his eyebrow raised and a gleam in his eye. 

“Of course not, sir. Not a problem at all,” I rush. God, I’m so nervous. I’m practically sweating into a puddle on this marble floor. Of course there are marble floors. This hallway alone is the size of my house!

“Good. Then, if you don’t mind, we shall get started,” he says. We come to a stop in front of a large door. It isn’t just any door. No, it’s a giant vault. With a biometric lock. Mr. Hale presses the pad of his thumb against the scanner and there’s a clicking noise. The vault door slowly cranks open and my jaw drops. To the floor. Because, on the other side of the vault door is the most beautiful office I have ever seen. 

“Is this–”

“Welcome to my office,” he says with a flourish. Wow. I take in the sight before me, scanning every square inch of the room. Dark wooden floors travel the expanse of the room, the walls painted to match. A sofa sits in front of a fireplace, opposite the desk. Shelves upon shelves line the walls, books stacked in them, as well as boxes. A luxurious office chair is on one side of the desk while two chairs sit on the other side. It truly is something to see. 

“This is quite the setup, sir,” I point out.

“Thank you,” he replies. “This is the most important part of the manor. It holds records, history books, and research, among other things. It is likely this will be your only visit to this room, so breathe it in while you can,” Mr. Hale chuckles. He takes a seat in the chair at his desk, so I take one opposite him. “Right. So, let’s start with some basic ground rules. First off, there will be absolutely no wandering. You are not permitted to go anywhere you aren’t strictly asked to.”

“Yes, of course,” I nod.

“Secondly, you will not interact with my daughter. That is, unless she specifically comes up to you, then you may indulge her. You will do as I say, no questions asked. Here’s a list of things I need to have done daily, and if I have anything else for you to do I’ll let you know. Got it?” He hands me a clipboard with a paper list of things to get done. 

–Deliver a cup of coffee to my office

–Talk to the waitstaff about meals for the day and make sure it goes smoothly

–Retrieve the mail

–Organize files in the library

–Take notes at my meetings

 “Yes,” I replied. The list isn’t too daunting, so I’m confident I’ll finish quickly. 

“Since it’s half past noon already, just skip the first two things on your list for today, hmm?” Mr. Hale stands up, me along with him. He ushers me out of the office and pulls the heavy vault door shut behind me.

Okay, Beatrice. You’ve got this. 

I walk down the hall and through the rest of the manor until I reach the front doors. Two guards stand on either side of them, just like outside, something I failed to notice when I first entered.

Still carrying my new clipboard, I ask the guards, “Do either of you know where I could find the mailbox? I’m the new intern for Mr. Hale.” 

They both look straight ahead and answer in unison, “Just outside the gates, ma’am.” O-kay then. I take a step toward the doors and the guards immediately open them for me. 

“Thank you,” I smile politely. Heading out the doors, I make my way down the long entryway and stop in front of the gates. “Uh,” I shout into the air. “Could someone please open the gates for me? I just need to grab Mr. Hale’s mail.” Without a word, the gates swing open and I pass through them, searching until I find the mailbox at the edge of the street. Quickly, I open the flap, grab the stack of mail, and rush back through the safety of the gates before they close on me. 

When I get back inside I open my mouth to ask the guards where I should place the mail.

“There’s a slot next to his office door, ma’am,” they say. I heave a sigh of relief, glad it’s a place I know how to get to. Mr. Hale walked me through the manor so quickly I hardly remember where anything is. It’ll take me a few days to get used to the layout. Rushing through the halls, I slip the mail into a slot next to the office door, right where the guards said it would be. I take another look at my clipboard and see that the next thing on my list is to organize the files in the library. Oh, man. Where’s the library again? 

“Hello,” a woman’s voice calls quietly, causing me to jump clean out of my skin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she laughs lightly. I turn around slowly, a hand clutching my heart.

“It’s no big deal, really. Just wasn’t expecting you.” I smile at the woman. She’s a few years older than me, probably closer to my brother, Theodore’s, age. Very beautiful. And familiar. “I’m Beatrice,” I offer.

“Melany.”

“I’m Mr. Hale’s personal assistant. It’s nice to meet you, Melany.”

“Oh, yes. I believe Father did mention a new personal assistant. Truthfully, I thought you’d be older,” she smiles sheepishly. Father?

“My god! You’re Mr. Hale’s daughter. I’m so sorry, miss. I’ll get out of your hair.” I spin on my heels and power walk in the other direction. I just hope it’s the right one. 

“Wait! Don’t leave,” Melany calls out from behind me. I stop in my tracks, glancing over to see her hurrying to catch up with me. “Where are you headed?” she asks. 

“Uh, the library. To reorganize the records,” I explain. I start walking again and she follows. 

“Well then. Let me help you! Plus,” she laughs, “you’re going the wrong way.” She links her elbow with mine and leads me to the library. 

“Wow,” I say when we arrive, speechless. 

“Yeah. It’s pretty great, isn’t it,” Melany says. It is the most beautiful library I’ve ever laid eyes on. It looked like it came out of Beauty and the Beast.

“It’s wonderful.” Melany and I weave through the library until she stops us at a section labeled Archives. There are a few boxes set on the ground, so I sift through them. “I think I’m supposed to shelve these. This book is called, ‘Covid-19 Outbreak, 2020.’” I turn it over in my hands as I try to find the right spot on the shelf. “We learned about this is History last year. One hundred and five years ago, there was this global pandemic, where lots of people died and everyone had to stay in their homes and wear masks for two years. Schools got moved to online, inflation rates rose, and there was this app called TikTok that got really popular. I heard that stores ran out of toilet paper really quickly because everyone was hoarding it!” Putting it in its proper place on the shelf, I go back to the box for another one.

“This one’s called, ‘9/11, Global War on Terrorism,’” Melany says, holding up a book. 

“What’s this?” I ask, pulling out another book from the box. “It’s titled, ‘Black Lives Matter.’ What are ‘Black Lives’?”

“No clue,” she shrugs. “Read some of it.” I flip to a random page in the book and read a few sentences aloud. “‘The Civil War may have brought freedom to black people, but only legally. Socially, we’re just dirt on the bottom of their shoes,’ Ruthie Keene says. ‘Nothin’ has changed. An item gets stolen anywhere and people just assume it’s the black kid who did it. Where’s the respect? Nowhere. You’ll never find it. People see what they want to see, and people like that? People who do things like convict my son of murder, thinkin’ it must’ve been him ‘cause he’s black? They look at ya and see the color of your skin and not what’s inside your heart.’” I stare up at Melany, flustered. “What in the world?” I gape. She reaches in the box and pulls out another one dating back further, titled, ‘Slavery’.

Opening it, she reads, “Slavery is the ownership of a person as property, especially in regards to their labor. There were millions of enslaved Africans that were brought to America in the early years. They had no right to vote, no right to own land.. Oftentimes the slave owners would separate the slaves from their families, selling a brother or a child.” We both gasped at what we were reading.

“Beatrice? Are you in here?” A deep voice calls out. I turn around for the source of the voice to find Mr. Hale walking toward Melany and me. “Ah, I see you’ve met my daughter.”

“Father, what is this?” Melany asks. She holds up the book she has in her hands, and I hold up mine.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” I agree.

“Melany, darling, maybe now isn’t the time–”

“Oh, it so is. Care to explain?” she says, furious.

“Well, it’s not like I was alive during that time, so you can hardly blame me.” He grabs the books from our hands and starts to explain. 

“Many years ago, before I came to power, color was seen by everyone. It sounds so lovely, doesn’t it? Well, it wasn’t. It wasn’t just a matter of what the sky looked like or what color shirt you wore that day. It was more than that. Every day, there was discrimination of skin color and race all throughout the world. Your mother was black, Melany, and I couldn’t stand to see and hear the things that happened to her every day. And it wasn’t just her; it was people all over the world. So, when you were born colorblind, I took it as an excuse to wipe away color from the human eye. As you all can tell, it has benefited the world quite well, wouldn’t you say?”

“Those things we read, they were so horrible!” I cry. “How could it have been like that?”

“Since the beginning of time, people have been afraid of those different from themselves. I fought for a better world, for everyone. Now we have one free of racism,” Mr. Hale explains. 

“What about animals?” I ask. “Is there a reason why my dog leans toward one object over the other occasionally?” 

Mr. Hale laughs lightly.

“Yes, Beatrice. Before, dogs were creatures that couldn’t see in color. I thought it only fair that I leave such beauty like color in the hands of creatures who deserve it. You see, without color, people are able to look past the color of one’s skin and into their hearts. That is how one should be judged, not the other way around.”