Year 6 (First Draft) #Wattys2016

-Chapter 13-

  “I am just weary,” I say. It isn’t completely false. Sure, I would love a world where the Government wouldn’t take children from their homes and throw them onto the dirty, cluttered streets. But I am not willing to die. I am not willing to give up my only chance to get back to a real life. Not for a flawed plan put together by a group of trouble loving men. I can’t do that.

  “Set your weariness aside, Newbie. We could use your help. I think it would be nice to have a woman’s thoughts thrown in here and there,” Charlie says. He has to raise his voice, the men around us still shouting, their voices creating a pounding pulse in the confined area. Suddenly I feel claustrophobic in this space, surrounded by men of all ages. Their voices are deep. Their movements are sharp and focused.

  I feel myself swaying, and a crippling pain forms in my head. Charlie’s voice is there, but I can’t understand what he is saying. Nothing coherent is coming from him. Not to me.

  Charlie’s hand appears on my shoulder again, and then I hear the pounding sound of footsteps behind me. I feel a cool gel like material cling to my temple, and I sigh, the pain created by the cheers turning to nothing more than a whisper.

  “I didn’t think they’d get this riled up,” A voice to my right says, and I see that it is Kane. “I wouldn’t have had her come down if I had known.”

  “Get back up there,” I say, lightly shoving Kane. “Your men need you.”

  Kane doesn’t think twice before running back up to his place in the spotlight. He climbs back up onto his chair, and raises his fist. The room falls silent, and everyone leans in, anticipating their leader’s words. His next statement sends a chill through me, and I understand why the Government wants a person like him under their control and away from the influential people. He is convincing.

  “We will be prepared. We will win. Nothing will be the same.”

 

  My head feels better now, and I lightly peel the blue patch off. I’m shocked to see it is no longer blue, and it has nearly flattened, no logger squishing under my touch. The blue gel must be the medicine. I hadn’t even considered that. The thought seems so obvious now that I almost laugh at my small mindedness.

  Breakfast is being served and I walk up to the preparation area, looking over my options. Bacon, eggs, and toast. I begin to wonder how they even get half of their meals when they are supposedly dead. Someone could spot them and turn them in.

  Timmy- the boy I left Amelia with- walks up to me, handing Amelia to me. I hold her in my arms, glad though when another little boy comes, dragging her box behind him. She isn’t heavy, I just don’t feel super well after not getting a full night’s sleep. Amelia fidgets as I lay her down. Her hands get tangled in my hair, and I gasp when she manages to pull a few strands of hair free. My scalp stings.

  “Could you watch her while I get something to eat?” I ask Timmy, clenching my teeth. Timmy nods, taking a seat next to Amelia’s box. I walk off, rubbing my head with my fingers. Man that actually hurt! I walk back up to the preparation area, and this time, I grab a plate and utensils, heading to where the cook is serving the food. He piles my plate high with scrambled eggs, five slices of bacon, and three pieces of toast.