THESE RUINED FLOWERS

CHAPTER 2

The situation had a different kind of air to it. I was entranced by the episode that took place. Now that I think about it, it is the only way I could've gone through the situation. I have never seen myself as an empathetic person. I never remember thinking that what horrible thing had happened to me should never happen to anyone else until my new life in this horrendous so-called camp. That may have been because I have never been through anything as horrible as what I and the forerunners are experiencing now. But still, I always thought of myself as someone incapable of experiencing genuine emotions to their absolute profoundness. But ever since I've been held captive, my blood boils every time I see a new human who immediately turns into a forerunner the moment he steps outside the white door into the camp without his say in it. Regardless of whether this injustice infuriates my entire being or if it's an expression of empathy, I cannot wait for it to be over unless it's death.

As the door creaked open, the silence lifted, and in came the harsh sounds of the guards with their profanity that indicated their xenophobia. They threw the human into the camp with a heavy push. His silky black hair ruffled forward onto his forehead in the process. He was wailing like a baby as he lost balance and tripped. The tripping was expected as he was made to starve inside that room like the rest of us were. But Hosier caught him tight by the shoulders. "Yes!", I thought. The first step to gaining his trust. The guards looked warily at him but he immediately gave them an intimidating stare, furrowing his eyebrows; deceiving them to the perfect saturation like an experienced con man. Nonetheless, it surely was a huge risk he was taking. The guards again barked out some god-forbidden profanity and disappeared back into the white room, shutting the door with a huge thud. So today they were in no mood to carry on with any further bullying outside the white room. 

Now all that filled the room were the long wailings of the boy. He was a handsome, tall boy. Although his facial features and gestures resembled a child-like innocence such as his smooth, butter-toned skin and round, twinkling eyes, he had a very deep, manly voice which surprisingly suited him very well. Hosier shook his shoulders, forcing his eyes to look into his. The boy invited his eyes and looked into them intently. Suddenly, he stopped his soul-wrenching cries. Hosier now had his trust! He is really good at this! I envy this man!

Hosier walked him out beyond the arch. Now both Yakove and I found it apt to approach him. I could see that Yakove was trying so hard to erase the grimness from his face before Hosier approached with the boy. He partially succeeded. I ran to the tiny kitchen to take bread for the new one to eat. We stood right where we were to not seem like a threat to him. His red lips pouted ever so slightly at us like a little child; his eyes twinkled with the tears that remained. I smiled as I gave him the bread without saying a word. He looked at me thankfully and took the bread from my hands. He immediately sat down on the floor, munching on the bread at the double as expected. He didn't seem like the same wailing kid anymore. It was at this moment that it struck me that his cries were not of fear but of shock and confusion. We slowly sat with the new one in the silence that crowded the space yet again. Now he shares the same life we have. We are all reduced to this one thing: the forerunners. Regardless of what we're called, we are captives.