"Pick up your feet, Chrissi, it's not that hard!" Lessi called back to me from where I sat underneath a tree. She had paused her trek up ahead once she saw that I had, for about the fifth time in an hour, stopped. She was right. Physically, this journey was a breeze. It was nearly all downhill. Only a few rocks and trees to navigate around. The temperature was a little on the cool side, but not bad.

But physically was not the same as emotionally. Yes, physically I had no problems leaving. Simply walking out of this place was very undemanding physically. That's not where I found a problem. My problem was we were leaving the one quadrant that felt like a home to enter the next couple of quadrants, and I didn't enjoy those nearly as much.

It was always the worst feeling to leave this place behind. Lessi knew that, and bless her heart, she was trying to make it incrementally easier on me. It wasn't working very well. Her teasing about leaving made it harder, if only because it brought back all of the memories we had in this place. Of every quadrant, this was the one where we could go and do more. We were able to be loud, and have fun, and not be so worried. We didn't have to constantly check behind our backs.

I was saying goodbye to my home, and it hurt like nothing else. I huddled under the tree, almost turning to Lessi and refusing to leave. I knew the winter would come, and that it would be brutal, but right now it almost seemed worth it. Just to be able to stay and live in my home longer. The pine trees rustled in the slight breeze, and the smell of them nearly intoxicated me. You could get drunk off of this smell...

I heard footsteps crunching their way to me. No doubt it was Lessi on her way to try and cheer me up. I huddled in closer to the tree, planning on refusing her comfort. I didn't want to be comforted right now. I wanted to stay right here and wallow in my self-misery.

Lessi didn't do what I expected her to do. She didn't try to hug me, or finger-comb my hair, or even put an arm around me. None of that. Instead, she sat down in the dirt next to me, leaning up against the tree that grew next to mine. Together we looked out over our home, sitting in silence for a time. The sounds of nature filled my ears, and I closed my eyes in sheer relaxation and bliss. This was home. This is what it meant to me.

Lessi sighed softly. "You know we can't stay forever.." Her fingers rooted up a couple of blades of grass. I opened my eyes, turning to look at her.

"I know."

"Then what are we doing here?" She asked. Her voice didn't carry an accusatory note, she genuinely wanted to know why I continued to stop. My first response was to refuse to answer. I didn't need to tell her anything. I started to shrug my shoulders, then stopped myself. This was Lessi. The girl I'd known for basically my whole life. She was really the only person I remembered, other than vague flickers from memories. The internal debate inside of me ended, Lessi having won.

"We're remembering," I told her.

It seemed the right way to phrase what I was doing here. As I sat under that pine tree, I really was remembering. Everything we'd done and created here in this quadrant became a part of who I was. I hugged my knees to my chest, resting my chin on top of them, staring out over the quadrant. My home.

Lessi mimicked my pose, staying under her own tree. "You know I'll miss it too, right?" she murmured. A bird crowed from its nest, and a mouse scuttled past our feet. I nodded, not wanting to disrupt the feel of where we were right now. Hearing the sounds of the mountain for the last time before we left brought a wave of sadness and nostalgia over me.

I couldn't tell you how long we sat there, both of us huddled under our trees, listening to the sounds of our home. Neither of us kept track of time. Neither of us wanted to. It could have been hours, it could have been minutes. Either way, I felt at peace when I finally stood back up.

Lessi was shaken from her peaceful vigil, and stood along with me. She looked at me with tight, narrow eyes. "Are you sure?" she asked. "We can stay for a bit longer if you'd like.."

"No. I'm done, and it's time that we were leaving anyway. We both know what happens when we stay here too late. I can feel the chill settling in already, Lessi. We need to go now." I chanced one last look back at my home. My heart ached, but something inside me was settled. It felt as if I was saying goodbye to my home for the last time. Like I wouldn't be back.

That thought was ridiculous of course. I knew Lessi and I would be back in practically no time at all. Sure, we'd have to endure our time in the other quadrants. In the end, we'd always end up back here, though. Always.

I turned to Lessi and nodded, urging her to go on with our trek. It was getting dark, and we had planned on travelling a lot farther than we had today. It was my fault that we'd been delayed, so I needed to be the one to get us back on track.

Lessi turned and brushed the dirt off of her pants. I did the same, knowing I probably looked ridiculous with the splattering of dirt covering my rear end. Lessi certainly looked rather silly. We finished wiping the clumps of dirt off of ourselves, and started in on our journey.

As we walked, my thoughts began to wander to the wistful places that only hiking can bring about. From what I'd heard, North America used to be a big place. A very big place. The land we now stood on was smaller than what North America used to entail. Lessi always told me about how Patella came to be, and I'd always listened. The wars and negotiations intrigued me immensely.

It all began with The Nation. That's what they called themselves, anyway. Lessi never told me where it was, and I didn't ask. Basically, they went completely insane, and everything happened all at once. Nations started dividing, some siding with The Nation, others against them. One day, a test nuke fired by America "went awry." Thus, World War Three began.

The bomb landed on an ally, unfortunately, and was reported to have come not from the United States, but from an ally of The Nation. The allies gathered together and began to wage a war similar to one that had happened several decades ago. They pressed forward in to The Nation's territory, and many lives were lost, on both sides.

Before the invasion, the war included most of Europe, parts of Asia, and the United States. However, Mexico saw an opportunity to invade, and it did. After gathering immense numbers of troops from neighboring nations, they began to lay their hold on several states along the border. Texas fell first, then New Mexico, Arizona, and parts of California and Nevada. Thousands of civilians were massacred in the streets.

With the troops over in The Nation, not much could be done. At this time, another country began to recognize an opportunity. Canada. Apparently, their economy was in shambles and they were desperate for resources hidden in the United States. Heaving their borders forward, they pressed in. They started with Maine then surged downward quicker than anyone could have thought possibly, rapidly gaining hold on the capital, Washington DC. The President of the United States fell victim to the war, leaving the country leaderless. From there it was easy to take control of the entire eastern half of the United States.

In all, Canada and Mexico together left only sixteen states intact. They then withdrew their forces slightly, leaving miles of wasteland surrounding the remaining states. What was left of the United States was crippled and dying. They had no resources, no allies, and no way to escape. Other countries had just found out that the nuke that had gone awry was in fact from the United States, and the war around the world faltered its way to a close. Bitter nations withdrew their decimated forces, and a solemn mood settled over the world. Everyone hated the United States.

Meanwhile, the United States was falling into disarray. Resources were limited, and the food supply was disrupted. Families were starving in the streets, desperate for a slice of bread to feed themselves and their loved ones. The desperation mounted and mounted until it burst.

You were either the hunter or the hunted. Lessi tells me that that's probably how the class system came to be. Those that were capable of killing their fellow men were elevated in their rank. They no longer starved on a daily basis. They were cruel and heartless enough to steal from the sobbing children in the street simply so they could gorge themselves even more.

Those that ran farms or owned stores became either highly revered or strongly persecuted. The food they had was precious. People would do anything to get it. Therefore, those that had it either became the benefactor of thousands of favors, or just another body in the streets.

Chaos reigned for a long time. Too long. I guess it was easy for Him to raise to power. He was an ordinary person, but His voice promised of a social system, based on stability and fairness for all. He was so persuasive, telling everyone that those who worked hard for the nation would be elevated and those who didn't would be demoted. His words wove pictures of the ideal society, where there would be food for everyone, so long as we followed His words. There would be a chance to once again climb through the ranks of the world, to rise to the position we had once claimed.

There was still chaos. But, because of Him, it was now organized chaos. Chaos that could be used and manipulated with a firm hand, and He was more than happy to accommodate that need. A feeling of excitement and anticipation skyrocketed as these people began to strive for the new nation- Patella- to be built. People were assigned roles, and rewarded with food for completing them. Farmers were compensated highly for producing food for the nation. I don't know how it worked. I don't pretend to be involved in politics, and I don't give much regard for them either. All I know is that it did work, and it worked well.

The nation climbed to its feet, much sooner than anyone could have anticipated. In actuality, our nation was rumored to have fared better than the others. Not that we really knew. We didn't communicate with them anymore. Ever since the wall went up, marking the COMPOUND as ours and off-limits to anyone else, communication with other nations was made impossible. It was not allowed under any circumstance. Everything we'd ever heard about other nations could have been a complete and total fabrication.

Once the wall went up, the people fell into a routine and system. They went about their lives as the distinctions between classes went from subtle and fluid to clear and rigid.

The quadrants weren't built until a decade after the wall went up. The Patellan's, as they called themselves, were scared of interference from Mexico or Canada, as they had every right to be. So they huddled into the COMPOUND, gathering strength and increasing in population and sustainability.

Ten years to the day that the wall went up, spurred through mounting social unrest, Patella had a revolution. The lower classes, plagued by fear, surged into the wastelands surrounding them, ready to kill any outsider they found. They found no one. Everything was silent, as far as they went out.

Many politicians had already started considering implementing the quadrants as a sort of unification project, intended to increase nationalism within Patella, as well as the dwindling employment rate. Not only that, but they planned on harvesting certain herbs and salves that could only be cultivated outside of the COMPOUND.

They now had the strength and opportunity. The lands that had once been destroyed by invaders were now left desolate and empty. Ghost towns.

Once Project Quadrants started, it was impossible to stop. More than 90% of the unemployed members of the nation had charged out of the walls and into the lands beyond. Armed with rakes, hoes, seeds, and other equipment, they raced forth to till the lands. Some went into the mountains, grooming them into place with delicate urging, nurturing trees in some places and planting new ones in others. Others ventured to the sea that flanked the western part of the COMPOUND. They cleaned the garbage strewn sand and nurtured plants to continue to grow, adding more where they saw fit.

By the time those two quadrants were finished, Project Quadrants had lost a significant amount of energy. Most of the 90% were tired, hungry, and done with their little project. Two of the quadrants that had been planned were done... The other two could wait.

The politicians, basking in the cool air of their comfortable homes, disagreed. They knew that completing the project would bring a greater sense of accomplishment and nationalism than leaving it half done. However, the politicians knew that the people were tired and worn down. So, being the cunning people that they were, they devised a plan.

The quadrants were completed. The plans that had been written earlier were altered to fit their new idea. An announcement was sent out to the people, congratulating them on accomplishing such a hard task. Confusion arose from the masses, but it was vastly ignored, and the plan put into action was used to answer. Yes, the quadrants were completed. No, we didn't do a field or river quadrant. We never planned to. It was always our intention to enjoy the beauty of the desert quadrant, and the historical significance of the city quadrant.

If there was ever an example of how simple-minded the masses can be, this was it. Everyone knew that what they'd planned on was ignored. How could they not? They were the ones who had agreed on it and set out to finish it. But all that was needed to change their minds was a slight nudging from the ones who held more power than they did.

Maybe that's why what followed was so simple. A movement started in the low corner of the COMPOUND, where a young lady started to question whether or not the quadrants were really theirs to claim. Having visited the city quadrant a few days prior, she questioned everything about it. There was no historical value to it. It was a shell of what it once was, and leaving it in the state they did made a mockery of the history it was supposed to represent.

The words drifted, slowly reaching the politicians. The ones who resided in the very center of Patella were the last to hear of the rebellious words, and they were infuriated. The woman was put to death without a second glance, accusations of traitorous actions supplied as the reasoning behind the heartless slaughter. Her family soon followed.

A sentiment of fear gradually wrapped around the hearts of the masses. They knew something was wrong, they just didn't know what. It has been shown throughout history that women start to act irrationally when they feel their family is threatened. Lessi calls it the momma bear reaction. I always chuckled at that image, knowing first-hand how defensive the female bears are of their young.

That's the essence of what started happening. The men went to work, and the women slowly gathered strength, building on the fear of the people. A rebellion would happen, and it would happen at the hands of the women. Or at least, it would have, if the politicians hadn't been alerted. The women grew in strength, and the politicians waited for the right moment to attack. It had to seem like they were benefiting the people, like what they were doing was necessary for the improvement of Patella as a whole. After a particularly violent, small-scale riot was put down, the procedure was first proposed.

The wash, they called it. Cleansing women of that which made them unsafe for our society.

Naturally, there was some resistance. As a whole, men were overprotective of women, particularly their wives and daughters, and women were defensive of themselves. What the politicians demanded seemed unnatural and too far.

Small-scale protests sprung up, and had to be dealt with. They very protests for their freedom became a weapon in the war against women, as politicians twisted and manipulated the story, pushing the image of women as violent and unreasonable.

The final blow was dealt to the rebellions when upper-class women started volunteering themselves for the procedure. The first couple of batches went wrong. Terribly wrong. They ended up leaving empty shells of women, capable only of blank stares. Each batch became more refined, with fewer discrepancies. The wash became more palatable to the masses. The women were simply more compliant. Less likely to talk back or disagree. Less violent. Safer.

This left the men feeling empowered. They were the dominant ones over the women, and it made them feel strong and able. Their wives no longer talked back, got moody, or argued with them. Instead, she seemed to happily go along with anything her husband asked for. As the years passed, the gap between the men and women only seemed to grow, and the desires of the men became nearly all-encompassing.

This was only fifty years ago. Since then, the wash had become more formalized. Laws had been put into place regarding stipulations that were agreed on. Any woman that was already married was subjected to the wash. Any woman that was set to be married was washed the day before her wedding. Any woman that didn't marry was washed at age 25. Of course, the women had no say in this. They were either washed already or deemed unfit to rule on the matter, due to the violent nature of the woman.

Lessi learned all of this from her father, one of the few men left in the COMPOUND who actually opposed the wash. Her father had loved her mother, and the wash devastated him. His wife's once fiery spirit and wicked grin was transformed into a compliant body with hazy eyes. Not only had her father taken the stance he did, he encouraged Lessi to maintain a similar one. He passed his great-great-great grandfather's journal down to her. He had been there since the beginning, and every generation since had continued recording the happenings in this small journal. Lessi wrote in it as well, telling of our journeys here in the quadrants.

In the journal, I'd read of terrible things. Washes gone wrong, leaving the women empty or insane. Girls married off at indescribable ages to bratty sons who felt they were entitled to claim whatever they wanted. Boys who grew up being told that their dominance over women was a natural and good thing. It sickened me.

Lessi told me to get over it. The whole reason we were out here was to avoid how awful it was back in there. I couldn't really do that though. It ate away at me, knowing that I was abandoning all of those poor girls to the same fate that I myself had escaped. I guess that was the reason that I wanted to join the rebellion so much. I'd never had to experience life inside the COMPOUND. I couldn't imagine what a day would be like. I felt like a coward, just leaving my fellow girls to fend for themselves.