The children were only taught Art and Poetry from the start of their schooling. They had been drawing and writing poems since the age of 4, now they were 12 and still none of them knew anything of the world around them. Faced with a book, they wouldn’t know what to do with it, they weren’t taught to read or write. Maths, Science, Geography, History and Humanities were absent in their lives to create a void in their minds, to rob them of any sense of belonging and attachments, to remove any understanding of how things worked.
The system was rigid and very disciplined but not unkind. They were allowed to play in the unkempt gardens that surrounded the Manor but they are always under close surveillance. The headmistress had told the children the story of one little boy who got his hand and feet cut off by a cruel man, he met when ventured outside the school boundaries. Most children believed their teachers. Although sometimes they speculated what they were doing in a school that never received any visitors. Not even parents, none of them knew their relatives. The only adult human contact the children had was with their wardens and teachers.
So the afternoons in the Library continued gathering pieces of Art conceived by the children’s scanty imagination. Most of them would draw abstract and strange shapes. Some drew how they saw themselves and their every day world, others drew their dreams. Poor mice, if only they knew!
None of them would survive past the age of 30, on turning 18 they would be sent into a world they knew nothing about. The real purpose of their lives only one, to donate human organs.