On Our Own (gxg)

Chapter 9 - The world falls apart

I pass the cells to my left and right and surpress the urge of looking, my curiosity has to be content with the hints and glances I catch at the edge of my field of view. I reach what I assume might be approximately the middle of the hallway and realize, that I have no clue in which direction I am supposed to look. I decide to turn my back towards a part of the wall where two cells meet and face the opposite cell. They are build somewhat altering. 3 p.m. and I am now straightening my face and let go of all emotions, I become a real soldier until midnight, I guess. Or whenever they release me.

I can't help but glance through the glass wall into the cell opposite me. There is a boy, I'd guess about 17, sitting in the corner and nodding occasionally. His lips move as if he talks but there's is no one in his cell, no other Goner he even looks at. His outward appearance is concerning. He does certainly not look dishevelled or starving. But he has big dark circles beneath his sunken sad eyes. He looks worn out, like he has lived through far too much for his young age.

I choke and scold myself for only attempting to worry. He is a Goner. He has commited a crime and he knew before committing, that his death would be the consequence. He should be glad that he's still alive, although it's just because he is under age.

Wow, when did you become so heartless, Rayen? What is wrong with you? How can you wish anybody to accept their fait? You know that this is not fair, that everybody should deserve a second chance, that the crimes most of the people here committed were only trifle! How can you even not wonder what kind of work they have to do? Wonder, what exhausts them so much despite the burden of knowing to be only waiting for one's death? Rayen, get your shit together! You have been abused and misstreated all your freaking life, your whole life, you have craved for justice! Is this justice?!

I am stunning about my own thoughts. I lack of words even in my head to express how shocked and how disappointed I am by my own spontaneous attitude. Have they washed my brain? We haven't even had many theoretical lessons yet, they didn't get the chance to do so. Why am I so fucked up? How could I ever, ever, think that way? He is a human, just like me, just like Malone, just like all the other imprisoners, just like the President or even my father. If the last ones have a right to exist, why the hell do I presume that he has spilled his chance? How dare I?!

I startle as 3 soldiers of a higher rank than me enter the hallway. I immidiately stand attention. They scoff at the Goners in their cells, disrespecting, condecending, confidently. I surpress a shudder. The Goners all seem to follow their orders without hesistation, but with a whole lot of tension and fear, which I can see in their eyes. They completely clean up their cells (although there isn't much to clean, anyways). The soldier of the highest rank nods at me in a greeting manner while he opens the cell doors and all the Goners are standing in one line of misery. Framed by the soldiers they walk out of the hallway, silently.

They are taken to work, whatever that might be, I realize. I bet it's not today's first shift and not a very humane condition to work in, referring to the impression I had. I sigh and sink back into my thoughts. After what must have been half an hour a single soldier comes back, brutally forcing a blonde woman to follow him, grabbing her wrist, pulling her as she falls and stumbles because of weakness. The soldier looks angry, I remember him from being one of the three who had picked all the Goners up before. Without any compassion he opens the door of the cell I am facing and pushes the girl in. She falls and stays on the floor immobile.

"Recruit, feed her. She has repeatedly blacked out while working. I do not have any nerve to deal with that kind of shit."

The soldier simply leaves taking wide steps.

I am left unsure of what to do. What does "feeding" imply? Referring to how reckless the soldier pulles the girl in earlier, I doubt that there are barely any restrictions on treating the Goners. And I am alone now in this sector.

I decide to make sure the door is locked, then I make my way back to the main hallway of the prison section where the supply dispenser is located. I get a jar of water and whatever food this indefinable mixture should be, then I return. The woman has not moved, she is curled up on the floor as a bundle, she shivers and sobs. Her face is hidden, her arms are protecting her head in a natural position.

I hesistate, unsure of what to do. Fuck it. I open the door with my ID and enter the cell. The door slides shut and I hear it lock. I startle, although I know that my ID will let me out any time I want. Being in a locked room calls memories I do not want to remember. Actually, you have been in almost the exact same situation uncountable many times before, Rayen. That's what makes you uncomfortable. You know abuse. You know injustice. You know pain, hopelessness and a lack of freedom. You know fear.

"Hey."

I mumble as soft and carefull as I can. I see the body reaction of the girl. Recognizing another person in the same room as her, speaking to her terrifies that blonde girl on the ground. She obviously tenses, ready to take whatever pain she is expecting. I know exactly what she does and why - and it's so sad that I know. Unconsciously I am already developing a connection built on compassion and sadness.

I put down the food and water on the floor and kneel down next to the woman. At the noise she curls up even more.

"Hey", I start again. "I won't hurt you, okay?"

She shows no sign that she's listening, but I bet she does. She can't quite ignore me, I guess. I gently put my hand on her arm.

"I promise. My name is Finl... my name is Rayen. I am a recruit - this is my first shift. Ever. I have got some food and water for you. Only food and water. No punishment, no labour right now. We are alone, too. Trust me. Relax. What's your name?"

She doesn't change her position, but I can feel that she lets go some tension, so she starts shivering again.

"I will get up now and get you a blanket. I won't hurt you and I won't leave you."

I bet I see a tiny nod. I get the blanket from the cot and cover her up, approximately to the shoulders.

"You see? I don't hurt you. I don't even bear a weapon." Shit, Rayen, you really don't! What if she's not here by chance or bad luck?

"Please, look at me. I won't hurt you. I am just here. Trust me. Tell me your name."

And then, as I have almost given up, she turns over and sits up, pushing herself half a meter away from me, landing in a defensive and attentive position in one smooth move. She scans me, tensed, breathing audibly.

But I? I see her eyes. Her deep blue eyes, they seem to soak in my whole self, to pull out the part of me that I hid so well. The part that can feel. And it's too late. She has got me.

I can't describe what happens in my head and soul. It's exploding and flaming and flying, it breaks free. I can not hold onto my emontionless calm surface because the eyes of the blonde woman have ripped the surface away. I am vulnerable. I feel bare. For the first time in ages I really feel something. I feel care. I need to care for the woman, the worn out Goner, bruised and swollen, even scarred, at least inside, from abuse. Puffy from crying.

And I realize, that I have been broken for a long time. I accepted my fait, I gave up, I merely existed, never lived. But just now I realize, that I don't want anyone else to live through this torture. They can punish me, beat me, hurt me. But that girl with the blue eyes, she has to be safe. If anyone dares laying a finger on her they will experience how it is to mess with me when I am emotionally involved and not only my dead shell!

My heart rate speeds up, I am mentally raging, but a voice calms me down immediately. Nothing more than a weak hush, lacking of volume. The lips almost stay immobile. But still the whisper is so indescribably soft, raspy and calming, it touches my soul.

"Luna. My name is Luna."