“Lisette, you must stop doing this,” Mother snaps, blocking the door.

I adjust the hood that covers my hair, making sure the jagged cut I’ve just ‘perfected’ is entirely obscured. “I can’t.”

“You absolutely can.”

“Please, Mother! I’m being careful.”

“You’ll be caught. I can’t let you be caught, Lisette.”

She’s worried about us all, though. It’s her safety, and mine, and that of my siblings, that I’m putting in jeopardy.

I know what I’m doing, though.

I’m going to help the revolution in the best of places.

“I’m not going to be working from here anymore. You’re going to be safe. And so am I. I’ve got a plan. It’s going to work.”

“Lisette—“

“Please.”

And she relents.

“What are you doing here girl? You know that only men get to listen to the Council.” An old man said as he shoved Jenfer out of the doorway.

Jenfer was so annoyed. She had spent more time than most of those men in that room reading the laws and studying how to make the kingdom better. And in secret too! Women weren’t allowed to learn how to read or write, but Jenfer learned.

And she wanted to prove that women were just as good as men.

She stormed home to her sister Jezzy, and told her about her plan. Before long, word had spread through the women of the town.

One week after Jenfer was pushed out of the Council, her entire living room was filled with women who wanted freedom too. All they needed was a leader.

And a leader they received.

“Alright ladies, who’s ready to take what’s rightfully ours?!”

Sylvia checked over her shoulder, holding her hood over her silver hair to keep it from gleaming in the moonlight and revealing her. Certain no one was following, she entered the darkness of the underpass of the bride above her. The beams supporting were old, weathered and cracked in a few places. She pressed forward even once the light of the street was absorbed by the shadows of the tunnel. Having been here time and time again, she new what steps to avoid. Stray left to avoid the jutting rock. Big step to pass over the crevasse in the ground. Drag your hand on the right wall until to find the turn. Then follow that path until it opened up to a cliffside. Carefully tiptoe along the edge, falling would mean death. Continue until you get to the sewer gate then throw the latch open, then, avoid the sludge, climb inside.

Here there were luminescent molds that grew on the ceiling in patterns that reflected the night sky, illuminating the passage until a service passage was found. At the end of that was the heavy door, and behind it opened up to a high vaulted room, regularly cleaned and maintained.

This was the meeting place of the Dragons, a select group of women fighting for their rights. Sylvia smiled at the girls in the room and her. Slowly, the quieted, looking at their leader, who finally let her silver braid fall loose. She moved the center of the room, getting a woman with brown hair who bore no resemblencte to Sylvia herself.

“Greetings sister.” Sylvia smiled.

“Good evening sister. How’s the over world treating you?”

“What can I say?” Sylvia shrugged. “Its a man’s world. I think it’s time we change that.” She grinned as she unfurled her map next to her sister’s hand-drawn map of the tunnels.

“Where would you like to strike?”

Before Sylvia could respond, the door creaked open. She turned around and faced a man. She didn’t pay attention to his features.

“Kill him.”

The girls were on him in a moment.

“Wait, please! I want to help!” He said.

Sylvia held up a fist and her warriors froze, keeping him secure, but only held the knife against his throat.

“What’s your name, boy?”

“Roman.”

“Well, Roman, give me one good reason not to slit your throat and let you bleed out.”

“I know where your sister is, Diana, I know where they’re keeping her.”

The room was deadly quite as Sylvia drew her own knife.

“Diana. Diana is dead.”

“No, she’s not. I can help you.”

“Even if I did believe you, why should I trust you.”

“Because I’m prince Roman Grinella. If you help me overthrow King Rollan, I can give you and all women in the kingdom a place beside men.”

Sylvia looked him over quietly. “Take him to a cell.” She said sharply. Once he was out of the room, Sylvia walked back over to Penelope.

“You’re not going to trust him, are you sister?”

“Trust him, never. Believe him?”

Sylvia paused. She swore she could still see Diana’s green eyes, her silver hair whipping in the wind that carried her laughter.

“Perhaps.”

Regina held her sister in her arms. Nina was only eighteen and now she’d never see nineteen. Her eyes stared blankly at the grey sky. The other girls had huddled around them, forming a shield of sorts.

“I warned her. I told her to step away from the horse. She didn’t listen.” The voice was self-assured. Regina could hear the justification in his voice. “The little wench got what she deserved.”

“Oi, that was her father’s horse,” retorted one of the other women.

“I don’t bloody care if it was his horse and he was king. No lass will be riding a horse from my stable. Her father would understand that. Especially if he was a king.” The man snorted and spit on the ground.

Regina laid her sister down neatly in front of her and gently closed her pale blue eyes. She stood and walked over to the man.

“What? Don’t make me cut down another one of you lot today, girl.”

Regina looked at the man. Studied him. His dark hair was matted. His clothes were simple and dirty. He wasn’t a peasant but he was no wealthy stable man either.

“My sister was just a girl. A stubborn, hardheaded child. And you killed her for touching her own father’s horse. He’s sick. He needed us to pick up his horse to ferry him to the city for care.”

“Like I said, I don’t bloody give a...” The man’s words were cut off with a gargle. He didn’t have a second to react. He stared wide-eyed at the blonde hair woman in front of him. A dagger blossomed from his throat. He appeared to try to reach the sword at his belt for a moment before his eyes rolled back in his head. Then, he collapsed, falling away from the dagger that took his life.

“Rosalind, take the horse and my sister back to my father’s house.” A young, red haired girl nodded. “Everyone else, take anything of value from the stables and a horse. We will meet at Robin’s in Everfall forest. There we make our stand. There we change history.”

I stood near the edge as it called to me. It longed for me to jump. What if I did? Would the world really miss me? “Yes.” A deep, power holding voice spoke from behind me. I slowly turned around only to lock eyes with a beaten, ragged girl. “What?” I breathed out. “You. Will. Be. Missed.” I look away scoffing. “How so?!” I asked more sternly, feeling the rage start to boil up in me. “You feel like no one notices you. You feel worthless because that people have told you, you are. You feel angry cause this is not what they promised. You feel sad because your broken. They have broke you.” Her words of truth hit me like a stone. She was...she was right. “H-how do you know that?” I finally broke the silence. “I felt it once too. The unbearable weight of nothing is in your shoulders, and I want to take it for you.” She told me calmly. “What?” Was all I could manage to say. She then slowly approached me, not unlocking the eye contact. Her face wore are small but warm, bright smile as she lifted her arms and wrapped them around me. With this embrace my walls came crashing down. Everything. My vision was invaded with mad, sorrow filled tears.

                    THREE MONTHS LATER

My feet ached and my mouth was dry, but I didn’t stop. I ran through the tangled, wet, frosty forest when suddenly I could see light in the distance. I smirked. I had found my destination. Turning over, I signaled the other girls to come forward and to the house that was standing in front of us. They moved swiftly as they claimed the side of the wall. A cry of pain broke through the air, and I winced. This is why we are here. One by one the girls hoped through the window, then I heard nothing. The lights went out, the movement had stopped. My heart sunk. Worry filled my stomach as I looked around for anything really. And as quick as it happened the lights flicked on and all five of my girls came out of the window. They worked together getting two new girls out as well. They had been successful. I let out a breath of relief and walked up to the new recruits. “Listen, I don’t have much time to explain. Do you want a chance at a better life?” I asked them gently. They both looked at each other then to me. “Yes.” They responded. I smiled then turned around and gave the signal. Finally we had returned to base. We had an underground not only building but a Society. In this kingdom there are only kings. So we made our own queens. We take girls, and we rise them up so they know how to fight for them selves and others. We rase them to work with those who hate us, not do what they have done to us.

After the long, uncomfortable dinner had commenced, I was excused back to my room for the rest of the evening. I was truly thankful that the servants were the ones to clean up after everyone's mess, and not me. I climbed up the winding staircase, nearly taking two steps at a time, as I tried to escape the continuing argument between the grown business men. Unfortunately, the women, like my mother, sister, and I, did not have the right to speak during a man's conversation. Our purpose was to sit still and look pretty; however, I did not agree with such rules.

I walked into my room with a sense of purpose, or a new flame, before getting dressed into better attire. I picked out a coral pink gown that fell right above the knee and had a coral pink belt around the midsection. I smiled at it before putting it on, and the way it hugged perfectly against my body made me feel like a new woman.I knew that if my parents saw me in this dress, I would never hear the end of their scolding.

When I finished getting dressed, I locked my closed room door, turned off all of the lights, and walked into my walk-in closet. Sliding a few dresses aside, I felt for the oak door before pushing it open. I cautiously placed the dresses back in place before pulling the door shut. I stared into the barely lit passage way before making the descent down four flights of stairs. Once I reached the bottom, nearly all of the women was standing together in the underground tunnels with Rebecca, our proud leader of this revolution.

Standing alongside my best trusted friends, we raised our torches high in the air, and listened to what our leader had to say.

This was the last time that us women stood around like China dolls. We need and deserve our freedom as much as men do. We are people too, and this revolution is just the start to a brighter future. This, however, is where the fire lies.

I crack my knuckles.

“You know that’s damaging to the bones, right?”

I pass an exasperated look to Right. She always did this. When you crack your knuckles she says this, when you rub your temples, she says pressing too hard causes brain damage.

Manner comes in. “Today’s the perfect day,” she says.

“Great!” I smile.

All our names are like this—Righteous, Manner, Humble, Modest, Gentle, etc.. At least, all girl names are like that.

My name is Sweet which I think everyone can wholeheartedly agree that is the opposite of what I am.

My friends and I host an underground revolution. Of girls.

See, girls have basically no rights, no voice, no choice. And we’re the girls who weren’t buried alive at birth.

And that’s because there’d been a population decrease.

A lot of girls, my mother included, don’t even try for a change.

Except this underground revolution I started. It’s mostly little acts that are to change people’s mind.

We have around 40 members now. I’m proud of it.

But today, we’re going to do something big.

To prove to people that girls are worth it, Right has convinced me not to rest on ways of violence.

Today, everyone’s leaving for a village fair. And we’ve planned a huge protest. Everyone’ll be there.

We’re going to be known. And no one is going to stop us.

——

The guards came at us five minutes in the protest, threatening to arrest us. But we had carried on.

Right looked the most nervous, but I made sure she didn’t abandon us.

So many faces, so many male faces, staring at us with surprise. Confusion. They don’t get we don’t like being called inferior.

Well, guess what? We want a change. I glared at them and carried on.

——

After that, my Father screamed at me for 3 hours straight. Saying I am lower, saying I ruined their reputation, etc.

But right after, I went straight to the TV. It was also over the news.

And what was also all over the TV? The government made an announcement. Burying Girls Alive is Illegal.

It’s not much, but it’s a step. A step in the right direction.

And soon, with much more work, steps will turn to a sprint.

“Women not allowed”, A large sing held the words in front of the large mansion hosting the event. I walked past while controlling the rising anger, calming myself down with a few deep breaths and a brief pep talk. It’s unfair how we have no control, we have hardly have any rights which means we can’t do a thing.

     Women can’t: 
              - Have a say in important matters
              - Attend special events or host any
              - Speak unless spoken to nor can they stop any injustice done towards them
              - Stay after curfew
      
      I have listed a few but the truth is that their is a whole book on the things we can do and the things we cant. The book is given to every girl at the age of 10 and she must read through it completely and pass a test so that the king knows that they understand what is expected. I hated that book but I don’t dare throw it away since the trouble it might cause is too much. The wind picks up and I stand there for a few seconds thinking if the revolution will one day help me be free because the chains I have are becoming more visible everyday. Being forced into submission is degrading, I might never understand the hatred men, especially the king have for us but I think it has something to do with resentment. Arriving at the small home on the corner I knock the pattern I was assigned. 
                                                   1 - 2, 3, 4 - 5, 6 - 8
   
    The door opens and I stare into the eyes of a stranger, confusion starts to write itself on my face and I know she can tell, but she speaks first. 

“ Number 15, correct?”

“ Correct”

“ Perfect, come in, I am a new recruit or member who is assigned to greeting”

“ oh, I see were is 11, has she entered?”

“ No, we lack here presence”

“ ok”

Walking past the girl I feel a pang of worry, 11 has never been late, as the leader of the meetings she must always arrive on time. We don’t use our names in the house, only in the underground club where are meetings are held. Each member is assigned their number and that is what is used, in total we are 70 but we take turns at this home as to not arise suspicions. I walk deeper into the home and the small hall where a tall bookshelf blocks the entrance. I push a few books to the side and I pull down a small red lever, then the process begins and the wall opens to a staircase and I walk in pulling the lever down for it to close.

  “ Mark 15! Hey”

   “ We are still using our marks?”

   “ 11 is a bit paranoid since Gabriel is hosting a party and the commotion and all the guest she wants to be safe”

   Footsteps could be heard coming down fast and soon we meet 11.

 “ Lets begin”

Miranda sat quietly in her chair, silent, as the law mandated (no woman is to talk unless spoken to). Her brother engaged in a political debate, and she internally sighed with longing for the ability to express an opinion, especially one that meant something. But society was completely against women, with their only purpose was to marry, have children, and care for the house. When her family was done eating, the servants of the house came in and took care of the dishes. Miranda’s family was a rich one, as her father was the CEO of a powerful military science company. Miranda was dismissed to her room, so she delicately slipped into her room. She changed out of her frilly dress that her father and mother liked her to wear and found a much simpler dress that was a deep navy blue, had long sleeves, and went to her ankles. She looked at her mirror, smiling as she remember her father’s sister who had died and lived in this room before her. She ran her finger down the edge of the tall looking glass, and pressed her finger to a DNA scanner. It was soon followed by a gentle click. Miranda pulled the door open gazing into the dark staircase. She walked in and closed the mirror behind her. She descended down the stairs, a slight tap of her shoes on the stone floor. She saw the light of a torch on flat ground up ahead. She was so far beneath the house now, and she smiled at the thought that her family was as far away from her as ever (it was illegal for women to leave their homes without a man). She approached the gathering of girls, each of them with such a determined look in their eyes, each one with a burning inner fire, each one with a voice inside that demanded their silence be broken. She then looked to the leader of the rebellious girls, who had given up everything for the cause, her aunt. A girl twirling a knife in her fingers smiled upon seeing Miranda. Lily was not only Miranda’s best friend and a total badass, but she was also one of the most fiery girls and one of the most dedicated to the cause of all the girls. She was one of the few that was openly outspoken, rather than hiding in the shadows, waiting for the right time to launch the Revolution. The Secret Rebellion is what the group was called and they had been smuggling all sorts of weapons to the basement of Miranda’s house for a long time (there were tunnels that led everywhere). They were all preparing for a battle for their freedom and their rights, waiting for when they knew that they could win. Miranda’s aunt called for the group’s attention. She then called, “our wait has been worth it, but it is time to come out of the shadows! We are ready to rise up!”

Edna. A name. My name. A name that would someday be known. Praised with victorious flare. Or spat upon with the utmost distain. Only one of those will be the outcome. The latter preferred. Selma and I were to meet this evening. At the lamppost by the river. Before sunset so as not to cause suspicion. It’s getting dusky. Being allowed past dark is not permitted; for anyone of the female gender. She takes far too much care to come at such a time. But then where is she. I have waited as long as I can. For fear of being detained and all our secrets spilled, I must go.

The walk back is short. I should make it inside before dark so long as I do not wander. There. Up ahead. I can see it. The door to safety. Just a few more steps. Now home. My home. Mine alone. Nothing fancy, just enough for pure survival and the most basic comforts. My small living space, warm and cozy. A place for fire to burn, a small, green sofa to rest on. Down the small hall, my kitchen. Once filled with life and warmth, now just a simple space of sustenance. Then the small bathroom with just enough space. In the back of the house, a small staircase leading up to my bedroom and the room of my late father. My room. A small bed, a window. Dreamy sheer curtains covering the windows. It’s cozy enough. My father’s room. Although unoccupied it’s still his. All his things perfectly in place as if he were coming home. Memories neatly placed. Memories required. Without them, it would be impossible for me to keep up this charade. It becomes harder, but not impossible. I will not leave my home, my place of comfort. Not without a fight. But. As long as I can keep up appearances, I shall be allowed to stay. The group homes. Those are the alternative. Living alone, as a woman, is forbidden. Living relatives permit you a safe, clean place to stay. Marriage also permits this, but in a world like this, who could possibly want to endure that. Individual freedoms. That is all we ask. That is what my group has set out to fight for. My meeting tonight. Would have helped. Maybe. But now the future is even more unclear. Selma had something to tell me. Something important. I’m not sure I’ll ever know what that was now. If she’s been found out... I’m not sure I’ll ever see her again.

I lay in bed. Thinking. Fading into darkness. Hoping that the world will one day come into the light.

The rays. In my eyes. They tell me it’s time to be up. Time for work. I swing my feet to the floor. The hardwood nips at my toes. Winter is getting closer. I gather my work clothes and head to the shower. I twist the squeaky faucet and let the water run