A Collection of Short Stories

Outcasts

Alone. Stranded. Destitute. What more could they lose in this unforgiving, barren land? But for the outcasts, life was unforgiving, uncaring, unending. It wasn't just the challenging demons of the present that haunted them. It was the past. The future> All woven into one terrible, terrible hideous creature that broke every spirt in their body and left them desperate. Afraid. Alone.

One of these victims was Sarah, who undertook the monumental task of freeing them at such as young age. She stared out from the Command Tower and looked at the collection of tents and thrown together houses that to a passer-by would look no more than a slum.

But it was her slum. her responsibility. At least it was for now. A droplet of water glided down her cheek as she remembered the tales she had been told. Tales from her parents' generation. She was sitting down outside her tent when Ol' Jibb spoke to her. He was one of the lucky ones. Not for some brave heroic deed. He wouldn't be one to be written about in the Historical Records, one to be spoken about for generations. He simply did what many others failed to do. He made it.

Jibb was full of tales of the Days of Long Ago. Fays of peace. Days of love. Oh! She longed more than ever to get back to those days. Now she was living a nightmare of jumbled thoughts and violence. Was it the violence of her own mind she feared most? How can you measure something you fear more than death itself?

It happened in a day. Proudly standing, the President appeared, his unreadable face masking his thoughts more than ever. He announced The Test. Sarah shuddered at those words. Imprisoned by her thoughts she looked down at the floor, examining the nails in the oak wood in the hope she could distract herself. WHat she would give to shut off those thoughts. But she could only do that in death. And death was not ready for her, yet.

So, she relaxed and surrendering to herself she went back to the fire. Ol' Jibb was talking about the results of The Test. The President only wanted those with the highest scores. Everyone else was removed from the city. The walls came up, the slums developed. All because of a result on a piece of paper.

Anyone who stayed behind was killed. She shuddered at the brutality of her thought. 'Passed away' would have been more appropriate. But a life of evil had taken its toll. Why try and dress up her thoughts. But she had to remain hopeful. Tonight was their last attempt. Spirits had been broken enough, this was their last fight in them. If they failed now, it would all be over. Everything gone. She couldn't let that be her legacy.

Even those who made it out weren't safe. The President ordered the majority of the slums to be eliminated. Wars continued to rage on against the sums on the sides of the city walls. Built away from the city, their shelter offered some protection. But a quick walk up the hill was all that's needed to see violence which would scar for eternity.

"Sarah I need you to come down, the others are waiting," said Jack.

"Don't you knock before you enter a room" she snapped, angered by the interruption of her thoughts.

"Sarah, are you okay?" Jack asked.

"None of us are going to be okay again Jack," she said, her water droplets turning into a light downpour, "we're never going to be okay again."

"But remember Ol' Jibb. He gave you this building. Built from his bare hands. He gave you the fight. He gave you those Historical Records. Don't let him down, Sarah. Do this for him"

"Don't you dare use Jibb against me. He was like a father to me" Sarah yelled, her cool composure of a strong leader disintegrating into the abyss.

Jack looked down. Hurt. In another life, their old life, maybe they could be together. They had everything that was needed. Same age. Liked the same things. Ticked all the boxes. But Jack knew that was just a fantasy. A fault line had cut between the two of them, and only the earthquakes of arguments kept them together at all.