hail trials + 5sos

six

IT'S BEEN HOURS SINCE the last instructions for the trials, and the group is now hungry, tired, and like in Jack's case- horny.

Do not even ask why.

Kat and Ale are off in search of tampons, because they feel like those should be a vital part of their 'Survival Kit'. Michael and Teresa are off to find the vending machines that they were pretty sure they spotted on their way, and Luke has run off to God knows where after claiming an emergency. Inês has a notepad in her hand and a pen in her mouth, trying hard to come up with ways to trust someone. Calum is sitting beside her, his side pressed up against her; her discomfort quite apparent, with a blue pen that barely works and scribbling his stupid ideas that Inês has to cross off time and again.

Jack is bouncing his knee up and down, his index finger caught between his front teeth. Looking up from her book, Inês notices his discomfort and proceeds to ask him the reason.

"It's just - after the briefing, when you came out, how many people did you see?" He asks, turning to look at her. Inês evaluates this question, thinks it over. She can't really count, so he gives him a rough figure; an estimate.

"A thousand, I think?"

"And we're just ten people. Where are the others? I don't think we've quite absorbed just how scary all of this is. I am fúcking terrified, guys."

"Today," Atiya says suddenly, pushing herself towards the small group by pressing her palms against the slippery floor and sliding over, "I went to the bathroom. And I swear to God guys, I heard voices. Sobbing. Arguments on how to trust people. I almost lost my shít. When I asked if anyone was there, no one replied, but the voices continued. And then I checked all the stalls, the closets; they were empty."

"Does that mean-"

"There are other people, yes, but we're separated from them by means I cannot understand. There is probably another group listening to our conversation right now in some parallel of this stimulation. How to get to them, I have no idea."

Inês absorbs the information, understands it, then starts, "So if we were separated by the organisers themselves, then why did they tell us to make the groups? And if there's ten of us right now-"

"-then there's two more people right here, right now, that none of us are aware of," Calum completes, burying his hands in his hands and letting out a sigh.

++

       Kat and Ale are walking down an empty hallway, the lights crackling like a maniacal clown's laughter- when Ale pushes Kat into an empty room. Kat stumbles, and then steadies herself. Her eyebrows draw together as she looks at Ale, who walks into the classroom and shuts the door behind her.

"What the fúck, Ale!" Kat exclaims, walking towards the door when Ale pushes her back and sneers at her, her lips drawn up in a malicious smirk.

"You want to trust people? Start talking. What happened in your past?"

"This is how you get people to trust you, Martin? Are you out of your fúcking mind?" Khadeeja grinds out, indignantly crossing her arms over her chest as she stares Ale down.

"If you have any other ideas, you bitch, then be my guest," Ale says, an eyebrow raised and a smug look on her face. When Kat doesn't reply, she chuckles, "that's what I thought. Now get talking."

Kat's lips twist into an ugly scowl, and suddenly she's 16 again. She's sitting in her room, her legs pulled to her chest and sobs raking through her body. Her life is flashing through her head in negatives.

      Khadeeja, for a fact, had always been a planner. She wanted everything impeccably perfect, immaculately so. She had one goal: NYU. There were several checkpoints that Khadeeja wanted to tick, milestones she needed to cross.

      A baby wasn't one of them.

     When Khadeeja had discovered that she was carrying a child- a living thing inside of her, needless to say, she'd freaked out. Thrashed around. Had wicked, dirty thoughts about the infant inside her. And then she had started planning again. She thought to herself - maybe I can take one more job and save up enough for an abortion. She'd spent hours remembering the speech she'd give her boyfriend- how this was a mistake, how it would all be okay, how she would never bother him.

      When the day came, however, that was all out the window. Khadeeja had stumbled into his room, a tear stricken face and distressed hair and wailed, "I'm pregnant."

      She'd expected her boyfriend to shout at her, to cry, get angered; throw her out, but instead- he maintained a stoic look on his face. Told her that it's okay. Rubbed her back and brushed her hair and made her promise that she wouldn't do anything extreme.

      Twenty seven days later, Khadeeja had rushed into his class and pulled him aside. Rested a hand on his cheek and told her she'd had a miscarriage. Watched the smile fall from his face and his heart crumble along with it. And then she'd dumped him, hugged him and walked out.

      God, if only Khadeeja had proved to be true her promise.