A Broken Wing

5. Static

It looked so simple, so innocent. A quiet little circle that did good things. A pill that made everything ok. The yellow tablet lay on the black marble surface waiting, waiting for its moment of glory. The opportunity to make the sun shine once more, make the birds sing and the day bearable. It brought a smile back to living and it did so when others couldn’t.

Pandora looked at herself in the mirror. Her scared and empty shell looked back. That was all going to change. One pill at a time. Pandora’s eyes stared out blankly at the monochrome world she lived in. Her hair was black like night which added definition to her sheet white complexion and her eyes, a watery green, wore little make-up that curled at the edges like wings. Everything was faint and dying, just black and white. Everything apart from that little pill. That was as bright as the sun.

A manicured hand closed around the circle, delicate fingers lifting it to her mouth. Her smooth peach lips parted as the pill slid onto her tongue which retreated like a content animal. She swallowed. Then everything changed. A smile spread, the lights turned on, life turned up. A mask, a way out, bubble wrap. The pill was a safety net, a filter, a dream catcher that lets everything bad through and keeps the good things, the happy memories. It was wonderful, nostalgic and wrong. A beautiful captor. The killer you could love.

“The list is in.” Honey whispered to Pandora as she came out of the bathroom.

Everyone on that floor had congregated in the communal lounge. Anxious faces stared blankly forward as hands pressed to mouths clutching tissues, photographs, anything that was a piece of someone. A piece of hope, a slice of their soul.

“They’re early.” Pandora whispered as she looked down at her watch. The small silver hands worked their way slowly round to twelve. One minute.

The radio crackled. Static. Electrical silence. A silence as noisy as the news that was to follow.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” She said reassuringly to Honey. “He hasn’t been gone long. Nothing will have happened yet.”

Honey looked at her. “Why did you say yet?”

Pandora didn’t answer, she just kept staring forward. Twenty seconds.

“What if something has happened?” Fifteen seconds.

“What if I hear it?” Ten seconds.

That was when Pandora turned to Honey. “Listen. James is going to be fine. You won’t hear anything. Remember no news is good news.”

“Silence is innocence.” Honey whispered. The clock struck twelve.

A sudden hush fell over everyone as the radio went live. A voice could be faintly heard before it shifted and the signal became clear.

“The time is twelve o’clock on the twenty second of July.” An introduction, the same template every day.

“Sixteen casualties.” There was a murmur throughout the room as there always was.

“That’s good.” Pandora said quietly in Honey’s ear. “Much fewer than yesterday, James’ chances are looking good.”

Honey remained silently staring forward, waiting and hoping.

“The casualties are as follows…” Everyone fell silent again, waiting, hoping.

“Alex Smith, private, XVIII Airborne Corps.” Silence.

“Andrew Carlton, private, XVIII Airborne Corps.” Again silence.

“Ben Carter, private, XVIII Airborne Corps.” Silence.

“Brian Alexander, specialist, III Corps.” Silence.

Another ten names passed, each met with a stony silence.

“Nearly there Honey.” Pandora said now holding her hand. Honey remained silent, squeezed Pandora’s hand tightly and held her breath as the final two names were read.

“Simon Matthews, sergeant, XVIII Airborne Corps.”

“Tim Robinson, private, III Corps.” Honey breathed a sigh of relief.

The room opened gently into a light murmur, before everyone bowed their heads. A minute passed. A minute of silence that commemorated those who fell amidst noise.

We kill all the caterpillars then complain that there are no butterflies.

Honey recalled the quote by John Marsden. The radio opened once more into life. The solemn male voice speaking once more.

“Your government thanks you for your participation and offers its most sincere condolences to the loved ones of those who have fallen for the freedom of our nation.” The same ending each day. The same empty words meant to comfort. Then the radio fell silent and blurred into static once more.

The room suddenly exploded into life. People hugging and crying, celebrating that today their loved ones had made it. Today it was someone else’s turn to cry.

“I told you.” Pandora said as she pulled Honey into a tight embrace.

“I know Pan.” Honey said as her eyes welled up with tears of joy. “Thank you.”

James was alive. He had made it and escaped the list. A fate that rendered him another body. Just another few words in a list of others, a book of names, the story of the lost.

Then nothing. Just static.