Molly knew that she was old enough now to look outside of the windows during the night. Normally they remained shielded once the night-cycle clock was set and even in the poorest areas of The Shelter, windows were closed and outside views were blocked. The entire population took heed of this as far as Molly was aware of but then she had never set foot past the few middle floors where she had been born, educated, made friends and eventually become desperate to leave.

Rules. Always more rules. I bet the Elites in their higher levels can leave the screens open or perhaps they can see the views of the ruined surface. I wonder what that would like. To see a world that destroyed itself, at least they didn't destroy the sun.

Her own world-view was limited she was aware but the stories that her mother had told her about her brief time as a servant in elites had become a kind of awakening for Molly, talk of freshly flowing water and even gardens full of green and wildlife which didn't try to bite you or was simply there to be fed and then eaten.

For her that kind of world was a paradise but at the same time a nearby impossibility. The only realistic chance she had of reaching the levels of the elites who lived far higher up, inaccessible to people from their level as all the elevators were guarded or entirely shut down in the name of security was to become a servant as her mother had been.

No thanks. I’d be stuck cleaning the mess while they have picnics inside their beautiful parks filled with artificial sunshine and freshly produced scented air unlike what we have. The same recycled stuff, over and over.

She was older now and getting sick of being told what to do in the name of safety and protection of self within The Shelter. She knew all the stories, all the reasons why they had to remain underground. That was the main reason in which she had wanted to rebel in her own way, to peek outside the windows, to go down to the streets of her small block flat in the middle levels and watch as the light which shone down and illuminated the entirety of The Shelter changed from bright into relative darkness.

Her parents had always forbidden her from doing it but as she approached her fifteenth year, she felt the curiosity draw upon her. Also, the fact that her friends were all getting older as she was and beginning to accept their situation.

They had entertainment and music delivered by the elites from their levels, they had sufficient food and clean water to drink even some of the vegetables and fruit had small traces of mould or fungal spores on them and best of all they had a better quality of life in the lower levels.

Those were not a place she ever wanted to end up, people who refused to work or decided to act in criminal ways were partly banished there and partly given no choice by the heavily armoured security which patrolled the elevators of The Shelter.

Her step father was a wreck she now realised, he had stopped working months before and chose to receive the free handouts that were dropped from the stop of The Safety.

It was the only place that she had known her entire life. Her mother was luckier in a way in that she had a permanent job in the mid floor distribution networks but she still looked old.

Molly felt sad that part of growing up was realising that your parents were only people, the same as you. They once had hopes and dreams before they were crushed by the weight of reality.

She would be different though. She wanted to see the light at the top of The Silo. To really experience it, not on a public screen that was covered in scratched or the deep yellow and purples that constantly shone outside.

True light. Soon-Light. Her friends had laughed about the idea when they had been younger, playing in the mushroom fields but she’d stopped hearing their sounds as they had all grown older.

Responsibilities towards her family unit. Towards her residential unit.

For the good of The Safety. Unity and obedience in return for safety from the surface and it’s contamination and constant warfare.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Molly had enough of it.

‘Soon.’ She thought to herself. ‘She’d sneak a look outside the windows and night and see the beautiful sigils that attracted so many.’

This was a promise that she had made to herself on her tenth birthday when her parents had realised that they was now old enough to stay up later during the nights. The windows had been secured of course and only her parents held the keys that would open them.

Each day for Molly was like the last. Attend her building school, attend to her daily tasks and then have a few ours exploring the streets with her friends before the sirens rang out and they all had to return home.

‘Boring.’

When she had grown older then she had realised the severe limitations that she thought were simple rules that needed to be followed.

A voice called out, one that she wished she hadn’t heard for another few hours at least.

'Molls! Get out of there and make yerself useful. You hear me girl? Your mum needs help sorting out these free goods. Could be we find ourselves some luck and find a few half-eaten apples to sell on the street. Even bruised fruit has value. Molls! I know you’re in there, Molls!’ said the voice of the man, it was harsher than it needed to be but the man behind it was kind in his own way.

He had simply stopped caring about the future, his future, her families future and even her own. And now he was stuck living off free food drops selling half-eaten remnants of food shipped down from the higher levels as though it was a profitable business.

Molly covered her ears. The lights from the massive scratched screens outside were beginning to dim on their level, a sure sign that the night cycle would come and the markets would open up downstairs for a brief period before the mandatory curfew was enabled for everyone younger than fifteen years old.

‘Molls! Molls!’ came the harsh voice of the man outside.

Molly had learnt from personal experience that although her step father came across as harsh he often spoke gently and acted subservient most of the time, especially when it came to making deals during the night-cycle market.

He could pretend that he was a gruff man but beneath it all something had been knocked out of him after his workplace accident. The loss of his leg and arm had affected him badly but he had never become violent or had a bad temper. The replacement from the lower-mid levels free medical services had been functional but nothing like what he could have received on one of the upper levels.

Molly had heard that the elites were able to simply grow back lost limbs and replace them. Even internal organs. She supposed that they simply contributed more than her step father ever would.

Not that it mattered, he had chosen his life and quit. He still contributed to The Safety in his own way, everyone had to except for those either punished or sent down to the bottom levels. No, they got to live a life of total freedom with all the chaos and survival that came with it.

The purpose of living in The Safety was to become more, to survive, to overcome and build a future on the ruined surface of the planet above. All their wars, their pollution, their experimental and insane weapons had destroyed the environment for everyone alive.

One day they would all ascend and see beyond the roof. But they had to do their part when they turned of age, the education centres made sure of that.

Quitter. No real contribution to The Safety. Selling old fruit like it means something. No future either. Not much value in that. No surprise they mock me at the education centre.

‘Mol-’ started the man before a woman’s voice, older, blocked him off.

‘Stop pestering her John. She’s older now. Soon to be a young woman and with a life ahead of her that has nothing to do with us. Give her space and time and she’ll help you if she wants to. For all your bluster you care for her, we all know that but give her space and she’ll talk when she’s ready. Here, I’ve already prepared your lunch. The work detail will be by soon. You’ll need to leave to get a good spot for your sales. We can talk later in the evening. I promise.’

Her mother, a woman more educated than her father ever would be. Her movements smoother, more graceful, her accent was purer. Molly wished that when she was older she could age as beautifully as her mother except for one thing. Her lack of ambition to improve their family situation.