Rebel Red Hope

1

     While standing at my dirty window, wrapped in a blanket, my eyes sweep over the ghostly streets of the dull cement city while trying to catch the sunrise over the city wall as a sigh of disappointment escapes my lungs. The sun never seems to be able to climb over the massive wall that surrounds us. Stepping away from the window and walking to the bed, my blanket slides off my shoulders and lands at my feet, causing a chill to run up my spine while my eyes dodge back and forth between the white button-up uniform of Reisdro's district folded neatly at the foot of my bed and my green jacket on the floor. Deciding isn't an option though, but seeing as it's colder outside, layers will be nice while on my walk. Shuffling over to my dresser and opening the top drawer to retrieve a thicker, black, long sleeve to go under the uniform, my eyes wander over to the clock that reads '5:47 am' while quickly changing into it and throwing the button up overtop before picking up the jacket from my floor and slipping into it. Snatching my journal and pencil pouch off the dresser and dumping them into the bag hanging from my bed frame, my eyes wander around a bit, dodging the neon rods while moving to the door to put on my shoes before closing the bag and slinging it over my shoulders, now ready to start my day.

     The door opens with a soft creak and closes a bit louder while leaving my room into the vacant hallway of the building, cold and gray and cement, like a crypt. It doesn't take me too long to make my way through the building and down the stairs to the entrance, saying hello to the few others who were doing tasks on my way out.

     "Going out so soon?" Ashton asks popping his head out from around the doorway to the dining hall.

     "Just getting some fresh air," I smile before opening the door, but Ashton continues.

     "Lessons start at 7 today," he leans out further, "Reisdro told me you would need a reminder," he smiles and I nod at him before walking out the door.

     The chilly morning air nips at my face and hands while stepping outside into the city, causing me to zip up the jacket all the way and bury my face as deep into the collar as I can while shoving my hands into the pockets for some warmth while walking. Taking a moment to look up at what is visible of the reddish-orange sunrise peeking out from behind the dark almost black clouds, my face scrunches up before continuing. I'm not quite sure exactly where I'm going, but anywhere is good enough for me.

     Walking aimlessly through the Reisdro's district for a bit, my feet carry me mindlessly to Keons' district where my eyes rest on one of the doors to a housing unit opened, so, seeing an opportunity to go to the roof, I take it and walk inside. The buildings aren't much warmer inside, but it feels nice after being outside for a bit. Climbing the all too familiar stairs, my mind tries to remember something that isn't there in the first place, deja vu almost.

     Finally reaching the roof access door, I carefully swing it open and step back into the cold to sit on the ledge with a few of the remaining vultures and peer over the wall, allowing my mind to slow down while gazing off into the distance at the steady lights of the neon below that seem to stretch for miles: a reminder to all of where we end up eventually. Something catches my eye from what little is visible over the wall: a small plume of smoke coming from off of what one could only assume is the top of one of the cliffs far off in the distance. I remember hearing stories of people who would escape the city walls and travel into the wilds of Trench, but they just seem like hopeful stories nowadays, and hope is a forbidden concept.

     After a bit of watching the city from above, I decide to make my way back down to the ground and continue my walk. Reaching the end of Keons' district, my vision starts to warp, causing me to stop. I know which Bishop is close by. I step into a doorway to shield me from the view of Lisden, who appears from around the corner of the building, leading his horse by the reins. Watching as he walked slowly and somewhat quietly, my brain starts to race. What was Lisden doing in Keons' district? The somewhat muffled sound of something dragging behind him catches my attention as my vision warps more and more the closer he gets. My breathing gets faster and more sporadic as he passes my hiding spot, causing me to cling to nothing while doing my best to put the thing behind the Bishop in focus. It takes me a moment, but slowly the shape takes form. He's dragging a person behind him. It's odd how familiar his face is, but the fear of all the possibilities of what the bishop will do with him starts creeping into my mind, so, ignoring every fiber in my body telling me to flee, my mind decides to follow once Lisden is out of view.