Empty Wrists

Chapter 5: Visitors

Chapter 5- Visitors

One of my favorite things, probably my most favorite, about living in my cabin is the fact that no one visits me. Don't get me wrong; I'm not antisocial and I do enjoy the occasional gathering here or there, but there's just something about being able to keep my cabin as messy as I want and wearing my pajamas all day without the fear of someone showing up at my door. My friends and distant relatives were always complaining about my choice of address and about how they can't visit me because I "live in the middle of a jungle" or something.

It is obvious, then, of why I was shocked when I was awoken by the sound of a persistent knock on my door in the morning. Peeking through my window curtains, I saw a boy about fifteen years old holding hands with who I assumed to be his 11 or 12-year old little sister. He and his sister wore panicked expressions on their faces and wore clothes ridden with dirt and holes. From the looks of things, it seemed as if they had not eaten or rested well in days.

Despite the warning bells in my head telling me not to open my door to complete strangers, I couldn't help but open the door a little bit, just enough to see the two siblings. Looking up suddenly, the boy's eyes widened in hope as he saw my door open. "Miss, please. My sister and I-we've been wandering around here for days. Our parents were-our parents aren't-they were.." He seemed in shock as he was saying this, disbelief and pain clear on his face as he looked at his sister. Coming to his senses, he straightened up, looked me in the eyes for the first time, and said, "My parents were killed by border soldiers. My sister and I ran as fast as we could and I think the soldiers believe we're dead. We haven't had food and have barely slept in the last three days. Your cabin is the only place we've seen for miles besides the army. We don't know where anything is or how to get out of this forest. Can we please stay here for a few days, at least until we decide what we need to do next?" His eyes and those of his sister were pleading as they looked up at me. Although I was bursting with questions, like why these kids' parents were murdered by the army and why the army would want these kids dead, I knew that what was important was helping these kids out.

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"Francis, mom told you not to talk with food in your mouth!" "Yeah, yeah, Delia. You were just talking with bread falling out of your mouth!" I amusedly watched the siblings bickering back and forth, noting how surprisingly nice it felt to have the cabin full of life. After letting the two in, I had given them whatever clothes I could find and had let them sleep in the extra bedroom. Now, as they ate at the table, I couldn't stop myself from asking them the questions that were racing through my head. "Why is the army after you guys?" Stopping their bickering, their eyes widened as they looked at each other. "Guys, you have to trust me if you want to stay here," I tried to convince them. Looking everywhere but me, Francis, a tall but skinny boy with pale skin and dark hair, tried to distract me by asking me to "pass the gravy,please."

As I stretched my arm to pass Francis the bowl of gravy, both siblings' eyes landed on my wrist. They both stared at each other in shock, but it wasn't the kind of shock people usually had when they wondered how or why I didn't have an LCODE. "You're part of the resistance? I didn't know there were others we didn't know about.." Francis wondered aloud. "What are you guys talking about? I was just born without an LCODE, what's this resistance you're talking about?" Resignedly, the siblings looked at each other and seemed to mentally communicate. With a nod at each other, they looked back at me and lifted their sleeves up at the same time.

Their wrists were empty.