Jordyn
My dreams are filled with water again that night.
Water and muffled screaming.
Regardless of the nightmarish nature of them, I can't force myself to wake up. When I do, it's only because of the light warming up the side of my face. I realize too slowly that the side of my face being warmed is facing downward.
It can't be the sun.
Fire.
I jerk upright, ready to bolt for the door. Yet, there are no flames surrounding me--just the faint pink light of a sunrise. I bring a hand up to rub my face, only to be greeted by something wet on the side.
The breath leaves my lungs in one quick burst as I hold my cheek. The liquid squishes between my fingers and drips down my wrist. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the beads of red running along the pink skin.
Blood.
I clench my eyes closed and let my hand fall from my cheek. My bottom lip trembles. I'm dreaming, again. There's no other reason for me to be covered in blood.
That's when I hear the whimpering.
Slowly, I open my eyes again and turn my upper body around. The scene before me drives whatever air I have left out into the open, and my head spins.
Kaia lies in the middle of the rug, clutching her stomach. Her face contrasts with the hair and blood surrounding her, a white speck in the middle of a sea of black and red. Blood covers the stomach of her jumpsuit and runs over the hands she has held there. Her face contorts in pain as tiny whimpers leave her trembling lips.
When my wits return, I scramble on my hands and knees across the rug towards her. Every step drenches me in her blood, but I ignore it as I hurry over.
"Kaia," I whisper, holding her face in my hands. "Kaia, what happened?"
Of course, she can't answer me. Her eyes flutter open for a moment, before falling closed again. She opens her mouth, but all that comes out is a splattering of blood and saliva.
The door was shut and locked. How did someone get in? It can't have been an animal, or we would both be dead. Who would kill Kaia and leave me alive?
Better yet, why would someone kill Kaia and leave me alive?
I take a deep breath in an effort to staunch the rising panic. My quivering hands reach down to pry hers away from her stomach. She lets go easily, allowing me to unzip the front of her suit. With slow and careful motions, I pull the jumpsuit apart and inspect the skin underneath.
The blood makes it near impossible to count all the wounds. There are at least a dozen lacerations, straight lines of about an inch in length. They're sporadically placed around her stomach and rib cage. It would be impossible to apply pressure to all of them at once, but my hands move without my permission and press on as many as I can reach.
Some stabbed Kaia to death.
I glance up at the door. The lock is still turned. Then, I check the window. Closed tight.
How in the world did someone get in?
"Jordyn..."
Kaia's feeble voice meets my ears, and I scoot up towards her face. She opens her eyes and tries to smile at me, but the edges of blood on her lips tell a story of immense pain. She reaches for my hand, and I hold it as I cradle her head in my lap. By now, both of us are coated in the thick, hot, red liquid.
"I'm here," I whisper, pushing her hair off her forehead. There's nothing I can do; she's going to die.
"Be careful," she says, but her voice holds all the power of a butterfly's wings.
"Of what, Kaia?" I ask. "Who did this to you?"
Does she know who killed her?
Her face twists in pain, and a cough tears through her body. Every muscle spasm causes more blood to pour out onto the carpet and my knees. When the episode passes, she opens her eyes slightly and nods.
"It was--" Another coughing fit wracks her body. I cling to her hand. Not now. She can't die now. I have to know.
"Who? Who was it?"
She shakes her head, and my morale falls again. Her eyes slip closed, and she purses her lips. Time slows as her chest stops rising and her body falls still. A mixture of helplessness and anger washes over me.
Kaia never did anything wrong, as far as I knew. Sure, she was a criminal outside The Island. Yet, in here, she was optimistic and pure. She was stories told by firelight and connections made during thunderstorms. She was warmth and kindness, even when I couldn't trust her.
How sad it is to realize what I had after it's already gone.
Yet, this is The Island. It doesn't discriminate against the nature of a person. All it cares about is what happened in the past--what crime she committed and what mistake she made. Yet, that's dying with her, and all I know is what's left behind. My Kaia is anything but a criminal. She deserves anything but to be murdered.
I wrap my arms around her and cradle her against my body. I don't realize I'm screaming right away. The sounds that come out of my mouth are nonsensical. After a moment or two, they form into words, and I find myself yelling Sam's name, over and over again.
A beating on the door makes me jump. The knob wiggles frantically, and I squeeze Kaia's body against mine.
"Jordyn! Let us in!" Sam yells, resorting to beating on the door after discovering it's locked.
I lower Kaia to the ground, pick myself up, and walk over to the door. My shaking hands unlock it and turn the knob slowly. Sam bursts in, followed by Neil. His eyes look over me first, shock written in every line between his eyebrows. His eyes go dark, and he searches the room for the source of the blood I'm drenched in. When he sees Kaia, his response cuts through my inner being and leaves me feeling raw.
"What did you do?"
YOU ARE READING
The Island
Science Fiction"This is The Island, a prison designed for minors like me- too young to be executed, too old to be reformed, and too much of a stain on humanity to let exist. It was 'the answer' to the growing crime rate resulting from a world that was falling apar...
