Unspoken

Chapter 7

I'm not scared. I'm almost so calm I would think I was on my Transmitters. My father has to be out looking for me, right? He'll stop at nothing to save me from the Free Speaks.

I can hope, at least.

I let the hope drive me for the few hours I'm left alone in the windowless box of a room. It's incredibly dark; the walls are even black. Each concrete slab is lined with torch-like objects that burn just a bit brighter than a candle would. Eerie shadows are cast along the stone. The only part of the room that isn't perfectly square is the alcove in the wall that holds the exit--which has been locked from the outside. A small light bulb sits in the alcove, making it the brightest part of the entire room.

Even though the ill-lighted room is darker than anything I've experienced, something about it is comforting. The darkness has no expectation of me. It's nothing like the judgmental white I'd been bred in. White shows every imperfection; black shows close to none. My shoulders now sit looser than they have in years. I'm prone in the eyes of the Movement to be perfect, though. Their tests even say so. To them, I make close to no mistakes. I'm one of the purest of my society and have no imperfections to show.

This never settled me at night. I'm acting so they don't see how unhappy I really am. With every perfect act came more unhappiness.

As I stare at the illumination of the alcove, I hear the door open. Light floods in, then immediately leaves. The room turns dim like someone had flipped off a switch. Even the alcove seems duller than it had been. Someone takes careful steps toward me.

My nose immediately picks up a wonderful scent. It's a bit peppery like my dad's cologne, and a little salty like the ocean not too far from the coast of the City. Another smell reminds me of plants one of my neighbors had grown in her garden to showcase in her house. All of the smells together are foreign. My mind struggles to put these separate ideas and memories into one thought.

Finally, a figure makes it around the corner. Through the light I'm able to make out Xander's figure and messy hair. He's smiling as he carries a full tray of unknown items. He sets them down in front of me and takes the spot on the other side of it. "You hungry?" He smiles. His teeth are bright.

"Hungry"? Is that the same as "dinner"? I look at him in confusion. I've never heard such words before.

I breathe in and get a whiff of the scent yet again. As it descends through my body, my stomach makes a strange, gurgling sound and begins to twist. As the sound subsides, I'm left feeling hollow. I've never felt this before.

I bring my hands to my stomach and look to Xander with wide eyes.

He laughs. "That's being hungry, Taeo. I forget that you guys don't know what that is with your Nutrition Sensors or whatever they're called. Those give you what the food does but in more proportioned doses. You guys don't have a need for food. We don't have that luxury down here; we need food or we'll die." I notice that he pronounces some of his vowels the way Michael did, though his inflections are harder to catch. I almost didn't notice he speaks any differently than me.

Food is another word I don't know. My eyes travel to the tray in front of me. Two foreign objects sit on the two plates. The first is a circular layered item. There is a dark brown, flat circle in between two soft white ones. There are green leaves and a red and yellow sauce leaking out of the side. Next to it are yellow sticks that remind me of skinny sponges. They're about as long as my fingers and a bit fatter.

"This is food," he adds as I finish surveying it. He picks up the circular, layered object and holds it up. "This--this is a cheeseburger. They're a classic. You can't go wrong with them." He brings the object to his mouth and bites down with his teeth. When he removes it, a large chunk of it is missing; it is now in his mouth. "You bite and chew with your teeth until the food is small enough to swallow. Like saliva--you know what saliva is, right?"

I nod. I swallow at the thought, a natural instinct I had even before my mouth was uncovered.

Xander watches me carefully. He expects me to mimic him. I pick up the cheeseburger like he had and hold it in front of me. I don't see why the Free-Speaks have food when Nutrition Transmitters are so much more efficient. They must waste so much time on food. For the time being, I have to take part in this.

I bring myself to take a small bite.

My mouth is immediately engulfed in new sensations. Something on my tongue tingles and my mouth begins to water as I chew on the chunk of cheeseburger. The texture is rough. The taste of smoke is the first one I can recognize, like the item had been stuffed with it. The sweetness of other parts quickly mask it. My mouth waters with subtle juices and poignant toppings. It takes me a while to get through it, considering my mouth has never been trained to bite on food. As I swallow my insides protest. I don't think I can eat much more; my body won't like it. Maybe in time I can finish a whole cheeseburger.

"Well?"

I nod my head. I enjoy this very much.

He grins and continues on with his own food. "The system you guys have is great and all, but it doesn't really give you the same experience. Food is awesome. I could eat it all hours of the day. Definitely my favorite aspect of Free-Speak life," Xander says through a full mouth.

I grab the other object and hold it up. Like the burger, it's warm to the touch.

"Those are fries. They're good, too. If you liked the burger, you'll love them. They're the perfect combination. Almost can't have one without the other."

I set the fry in my mouth and chew again. These are easier to sink my teeth through. I like the burger better, but these still make my mouth tingle.

Neither of us speak as we finish our food. Xander seems to respect the fact that I prefer silence. I really appreciate that about him. I would never have thought a Free Speak would be thoughtful of an Unspoken.

Even though I'm only able to eat a small portion of what I was given, Xander polishes his whole plate in about the same time it takes me to finish. Once his last bit is chewed, he says, "I think it's kind of cool that you won't talk." He wraps his arm around his knees. His constant smile turns almost shy. I have yet to consider Xander shy.

I sit back and let my hands support my body as they rest on the ground behind me. I still haven't been given anything comfortable to sit on or wrap myself in.

He continues, "If I were ever in the Movement I probably wouldn't speak either. I'm happy I'm not and never was, though. I like words too much not to use them."

My eyebrows rise. I've never heard someone say they actually enjoy words. Our society has tried to completely ameliorate them. I agree with the thought--the Movement is designed to keep peace by limited words. Having free range of words destroys that peace.

"You don't understand, Taeo." Xander leans forward. "Words--they're amazing. You can convey so much more than an expression or eyes can. With a word, you can tell people exactly what you're thinking. There isn't misinterpretation. Expressions are limited; but words--words are endless."

I shrug. We've mastered the art of communicating through facial expressions. I've never had struggles expressing what I think and reading it on other people.

Xander breathes deeply. "You probably won't understand unless you're a Free Speak. You have to experience it." He looks down at his watch, then jumps up suddenly. "I have to go, Taeo. I have to go do a shift monitoring in a computer lab. I'll come back tomorrow to bring you some breakfast, okay?"

Before I can even respond, he's gone.

Leaving me alone.

In the darkness.

--
A/N happy Friday everybody! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Truth be told, this was the hardest chapter I've written in my life. Having to describe such a basic concept that comes so naturally to us is difficult. If anyone has any tips or ideas, feel free to let me know in the comments or in a message!
As always, feel free to vote or comment.
Enjoy your weekends!
Alisha