Unspoken

Chapter 16

I have to with the smell of flowers so potent in the air.

"Taeo, we all know that happened to your mother, too. Even if you don't believe it, you're one of us. The Movement has affected everybody in the UIP, in some way. It's done horrible things to people for almost no reason; we want to change it. One Unspoken at a time."

I shake my head. I can't join them. It's not right. I was born to be in the Movement, not to be a part of this society.

"It's easy, Taeo. We have a procedure to reconnect the vocal cords without the word counter. Past surgeons from the Movement--like Jeremii--just use their knowledge from the installation of the word counter to take it out. It gives you the words to speak against the Movement and everything they're doing wrong."

I stand from where I'm at and tear myself away from her touch. She can't be implying that I join the Free Speaks, can she? It's wrong. It's all wrong. And she's wrong for joining them in the first place, for using her words.

Before Baya can move to speak, a sound rises from the hallway. I can vaguely make out staggered steps and a mournful, off-key tune, complete with words that I can't make out.

I face the door, my interest piqued.

"It's just Christopher. He sleepwalks a lot." Baya's worried face is evident. Even though this may be a normal occurrence, it seems that there's something off about tonight. What could that be?

Baya glances at me and reads my eyes. "He usually just roams aimlessly singing songs about cake... I mean, uh, sweet foods, if that helps any, and his favorite blanket. Tonight he's singing war hymns. I haven't heard a war hymn in years."

I reclaim my spot beside her. I put my hand on her knee and rub my thumb on it. She must be distressed because of how tired she is.

"There's been something off about Christopher lately. He's been strange since before I even got here, but it's different these last few months. Michael won't do anything about it. He knows that if he does, he might lose his older brother. Right now, that's his only living relative."

My gut drops. I can't imagine how it feels to only have one, slowly-deteriorating relative. At least I have my father.

But does Baya?

I can see it in her eyes. This frustrates her because she knows how Michael feels. I don't have to hear her entire story to know that she has no one anymore. She lost everybody when her mother died. It's why she's here.

I move my hand to her shoulder and motion for her to stand up. I guide her to the doorway of her room. She just needs sleep.

Once at the door, I give her one short nod, my goodnight bidding to her.

"Goodnight, Taeo." She puts one hand on the upper part of my arm and smiles at me before giving a long yawn. Fatigue is evident through her entire body, from the tired hunch of her shoulders to the faraway look in her eyes.

I move to step away from her, but her hand catches my arm. I stand before her. She's almost a foot shorter than me. I can't see her as small, though, because I know inside of her are great things, beautiful things. In that aspect, she's taller than me. "Thank you, Taeo," she murmurs groggily, "For listening. It means a lot."

As I look at her through the faint light of the night, I'm struck by the fact that even in her exhaustion she is beautiful. Her eyes, her hair, her lips; she has a beauty to her unlike anything I've seen. I feel a flush rise on my cheeks at the thought. Guilt replaces the thought just as quickly.

I can't think that about someone else, because I'm supposed to love Merda.

I turn away and head back to the couch. Without looking at her, I lay on the soft material and close my eyes. I can feel her presence looming by her door. Then, the door is closed and she is safely tucked into her room. The smell of flowers is as strong as ever.

Now that silence encases the room, I can make out Christopher's singing down the hall, hear every word coming out of his mouth. The song is slow, hard, and it makes me ache in my bones.

"Down the old streetsoldiers go/Taking thoughts where'er they roam/There goes the cry, the child'scall/'round the nation all will fall/Momma and dad, take you children, go/hideaway from all the gore/Make the long trek down the road/Get away, take off theload/Smears of blood and piles of dust/Accept your fate, death is a must/Justlie calmly and let out a breath/Let it one last time leave your chest/Momma anddad, take your children, go/hide away from all the gore/make the long trek downthe road/get away, take off the load."    

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I love the way this gives you some insight into Christopher AND Baya all in one go! The back stories are hitting a pause here, and we start moving forward from this point on!

I think there's some surface-contact in the works for next week, so we'll see how that goes on Tuesday!

In the meantime, don't forget to vote or leave a comment. All your feedback is very much appreciated!