Ignorance (BEING REWRITTEN. SEE 'THE REVOLT')

Chapter Eleven

We don't look too out of place here, not like we usually do when we’re with Puck and her massive jacket and weirdly styled hair. I feel bad saying that because I know the only reason for it to be cut in that jagged and uneven way is to cover that scar. I feel something warm enclose my hand, it’s Artie’s, and she drags me through the small crowd and onto the nearest train. I have no idea where we’re going and I’m not sure she does either. Still, I don’t care. There aren’t any seats in the carriage so we stand, side-by-side, her hand still wrapped around mine. On a normal day, I would be at school, sitting in that awful classroom surrounded by people who I barely know and who don’t care about anything or anyone because that’s how we’re raised. We are raised in this pit of ignorance and we are only allowed to think how and what they want us to and that isn’t freedom or happiness. I wonder what the hell would’ve happened if I hadn't seen Tim that day on the train or I hadn't got a detention and got lost on my way home and all of these things are small decisions or small acts and they cause things that change things. If I’d walked a bit slower down the tunnels after school that day and missed that train I would have never seen Tim and would have never been intrigued by his liberated smile and the can of spray paint in his pocket. Sometimes, I find myself enveloped completely by my thoughts and I just sit or stand and stare into space and think about things. A lot of the time, I won’t be pulled from these thoughts for a little while but here, in this tiny enclosed train, Artie drags me out again and she smiles and says something that I don’t quite hear. So she repeats it.

“Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?” she continues to hold her smile,

“I got a bit distracted.”

“But what could distract you from my impeccable humour and winning personality?” A piece of hair falls over her left eye and for a second she reminds me of Elara but then it’s gone and I realise that I’m just being sad and stupid because I made the choice to leave. “This is our stop.” 

“I was starting to wonder if you had any idea where we were going.”

“Of course I do.” She pushes her hair out of her face and jumps out of the doors onto the platform, her shoes making a thud as they hit the stone. I hear a second thud as something else hits the floor. I step out of the train and see Artie lying, facedown, on the ground and something inside of my stomach twists and knots into something unfamiliar.

“Jesus, Artie, are you alright?” I run over to her and skid slightly as I bend down. She lifts up her head and I see a graze running down her cheek,

“Yeah,” She laughs, “I’m fine, I just slipped.” I help her up and notice the crowd of people around us, there’s not many but it’s enough to make me feel uneasy. 

“We should go.” I notice that one of my knives is poking out of my pocket and that’s what everyone’s staring at. “We really need to go.” I mutter in her ear and before anyone can say anything we run. I’m getting way too used to running.

“Relax, I doubt anyone even saw it.” she must have seen the panicked look on my face. “Let’s just go for a walk, we’re almost in Lower anyway.”

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lower like this before, it’s quite light outside and I can see each fissure in the bricks and the cracks in the pavement. It’s so different to Upper, we could be a thousand miles away. There’s still no one up here, most of the rumours about the Solids come from people in the Lower so they're probably scared. When I was a kid, my Dad used to talk about the people here, he called them ‘scum’ I think it was. That sounds like something he’d say anyway. It’s not even as if we’re particularly rich, we live in a high-rise which is technically in Upper but it’s not really part of the Upper lifestyle. The government claim that there is equality here, and that’s why we should not question what they do, but there is no such thing as equality. The city is split into two; Upper and Lower. The people in  Lower are poor and most of the people in Upper are poor as well. If you are not registered with the authority then you are not given food or healthcare or anything, to be registered you have to do what they say and you have to abide by the exact and limiting rules that are written on an old piece of paper that is probably framed in Parker’s office.

“Do you regret joining?” Her eyes glint ever so slightly behind her glasses in this unfamiliar light,

“No.” I say simply. “I mean, I miss my sister and I miss my Mum and I guess my Dad as well but now I’ve got you guys.” I pause, “Do you regret it?”

“Sometimes,” she sighs, “I was so young when I ran away from home and they saved my life but I have no clue how things would have turned out if I’d just stayed at home.”

“Why did you run away?”

“Who the hell knows, Luca. You know,” she points to a building about a mile from where we stand on the deserted street, “That’s where I grew up.”

“You’re from Lower?” I don’t mean to sound as shocked as I do.

“Yeah, my family were pretty poor. We lived in one of the flats in there, my parents did their best but they weren’t exactly proud of me. I got into trouble too much at school, I questioned too much.”

“You haven’t changed at all.” I smile at her,

“I have,” She doesn’t return it, “Now, I only question things I actually give a damn about.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m so interested in you.”

“Is that your attempt to flirt, Luca, because seriously, you’ve got to up your game.”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with my flirting.” I lean in and kiss her gently, she doesn’t move away. I notice how the air is slightly cold despite the sun and it smells like smoke as it usually does in Lower. 

“I’d give it a seven out of ten.” She says as she pulls away and blushes, the pink colour extending across her grazed cheek.

“Bit harsh.” I kiss her again. “Any better?”

“Not really.” She laughs and so do I and if there’s ever been a time in my life when I can say I have felt completely calm and relaxed and happy then I would say it was now.

We carry on walking for a little while, our footsteps falling into almost perfect synchronisation as we talked. There was a stillness to the surroundings, the wind had died down and the only sound was us; our feet hitting the concrete, our shallow or deep breaths, our words. I class myself as quite well-read but in all the novels and stories I have read about hundreds of places and thousands of people, nothing has ever struck me as being as calm as this. Even in this total screw up of a city, I can find peace in people and that is a thought that will comfort me when I inevitably am about to die. 

“Luca,” The serene atmosphere is pierced by her panicked voice and it breaks, “we’ve got to get back. Puck just told me that they think something’s about to happen and they want us to get back now.”

“What do they think’s going on?”

“She didn’t say, she just said that Zed is worried and they think it’s something to do with the tube lines. We need to get back now.” And once again we run, her slightly in front of me because she knows the way better than I do. The train journey seems longer with this feeling of dread and anticipation hanging over the two of us, at least this time we have seats. The hard plastic digs into my thigh where my leg is pressed against it as it impatiently shakes. When we get off at Victoria things feel strange.