Number 5

Chapter 20

Perhaps I am not in an official dwelling, but the banded home of the exhiles?

I point to his shoulder. Mikay seems befuddled.

"May I?" I ask, knowing it is a possibility that he may not understand what I am trying to ask.

Mikay seems to understand though and drags down the faded, flimsy shirt he wears. He's an exhile. Where there should be the symbolic brand, his shoulder is unblemished. His tanned skin shows no appearance of the ink I am so used to see.

He shrugs his shirt back on.

"You are like Mikay." He stutters out.

I shake my head.

"I am a 5." I reply. His eyes immediately squint and he shakes his head in disagreement.

"You are like Mikay." He repeats again, this time using both hands to point to his chest to emphasise his point.

I shake my head again. Before I have time to react, Mikay springs off his haunches and pulls down the shoulder of my dress. I shove him off me and he fall back against the floor. But when I look at my shoulder, I can see that he is in fact correct. My brand is still missing, as it has been since I left the 5's and Grayson.

Like the necklace, I have been trying to avoid looking at it. It hurts like hell to be torn apart and thrown around by the emotions that ignite upon the sight of them.

I feel violated. Mikay looks pained, like a remorseful dog after chewing the shoes.

"How dare you!" I fume, glaring at Mikay.

"You are like me." Mikay replies meekly. "I try to show you."

"You have no right." I exclaim. "How can I get out of here?"

"Get out of here?"

"Leave, exit, escape." I reply frustratedly, irked by his aggravating stupidity. It may not be his fault that the Exhiles do not provide sufficient education for their children, but the thought doesn't even cross my mind. I am too maddened by his actions.

"Leave?" Mikay asks, his face falls.

"Yes leave." I say. "I want to go home."

"Home?"

"Yes home - to my dwelling, to Grayson." I say dejectedly, slumping against the twigged walls. Nothing about its structure seems sturdy but its a shelter.

"Your home is here." Mikay says slowly. "You're like me."

"I'm not Mikay." I say. "I have a match."

"You are matched?" Mikay asks, sitting up straight and losing the despondent look upon his face. It seems I have sparked his interest and drawn upon a topic he has knowledge on.