"OK THAT'S IT." I THROW THE BLANKET off my body. "I can't do this anymore."
The thought of having many cameras trained at me while I sleep is burning in my head like a hot, scalding iron. It won't let me sleep. And Juliette's room is around this building somewhere. And the fact that somehow I don't know about it, is killing me. I hate not knowing stuff. I need to see her. As much as I hate to admit it...
I don't think I'll be able to sleep on my own.
I can take a nap but can't spend the night without her. I made her presence a granted thing in the asylum. Whenever the word sleep was used, Juliette was close by. For me, at least. I used to cuddle up with her at night in the cell that's why it was easy when we had to share a bed when Adam got there. Figuratively we were already sharing a bed. I have a strange tendency to grab hold of the person I'm sleeping with and make them my comfort-teddy. Juliette was the best one, yet.
And now I miss her like hell. And sleep is miles away without her, as poetically pathetic as it may sound—it is true.
After tying the stringy laces of my rough sneakers, I gently tiptoe my way towards the huge locked door. I know that it is unlocked, and I also know that these locks are secretly automatic and could be unlocked from the outside if I tried to lock them from the inside in an attempt to get rid of the soldiers, Warner had cheerfully informed me.
The asshøle.
Unlocking the door as lightly as I can, I pry it open while keeping my breath shallow.
"Please don't creak. Please don't creak." I mentally pray. "For once in your goddam existence do not creak."
It doesn't. I gently peek out, making sure I absorb the door material so I can camouflage myself. I look around the hallway. There are two soldiers patrolling around, the rest must've gone back to their barracks. I examine them for a few, silent minutes. One is bulky and huge while the other lean and a bit shorter. I eavesdrop on their conversation.
The soldier duo reminds me of this show I used to watch, I can't remember the name. One was the sarcastic dude while the other was the dumb idiot. The sarcastic one made the dumb one look even more dumb. I could hear them talk as I watch their backs move towards the left side of the hall, the hilt of their guns visible under the gloomy lights of the narrow passageway. Thankfully I have to go to the right side where I saw them take Juliette. I hear the duo's words echo lightly as I run towards the stairs, I can't really use the elevator.
"Your an idiot sometimes, you know that?" Sarcastic one says to the dumb one.
"Or so you keep telling me." The dumb one says, indifferently.
Ok, I think. So he's not really dumb.
"Yes, and you should know that I ... Wait a minute." I feel myself freeze. Oh hell. I hope to God that they didn't realize that I'm out of my room. This is not going to go down well if they have. "You're being sarcastic."
I finally let myself exhale when I realize that the sarcastic one is only talking to the dumb one.
"No shit, Sherlock." The dumb one snaps.
Ok, maybe I misjudged him. He's clearly better than the other guy by miles. But I don't really have time to waste. Taking two steps at a time, I move up the stairs. I can still hear the soldiers' voice. But they're voices are fading.
"Sherlock?" Confusion rings his voice. "Who the fûck is that?"
"My late wife." The other says, sadly.
"Oh, I'm so— Hey, stop that. Stop messing with me."
In reply, he only gets chuckles.
I bite my lip to hold back a snicker. Maybe all of the soldiers aren't that bad. After all, most of them are just young boys; maybe my age or a little older. I move across the maze of corridors, feeling smaller and smaller as I make every turn. I'm about to move into a room, praying that Juliette is in there, when I hear voices at the end of the wall.
I'm so shocked that I freeze to the spot.
It's not soldiers. But two workers. I realize that by their dusty brown work uniforms, they must be heading towards the kitchen or something. If I try to run anywhere, I will be spotted. So like the huge idiot I am, I stand there frozen like a rock. They both stop when they spot me. They aren't young like the soldiers. Probably in their early fifties. They both look at me, with confusion in their eyes. They must be wondering how I got out. The dark one frowns at me.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He snaps.
My mouth dries as I try to think of some explanation. "I-I well I was just ... I thought it'd would be .... I thought it'd be good if ... if I did some ... wandering?"
"Wandering?" The ginger echoes.
"Yeah, to get some fresh air." I joke. "It's great for health, you know?"
Please don't take me to Warner. Please. Please. Please I beg of you.
"You know what else is good for your health?" The dark one narrows his eyes.
"Um, vegetables?" I blink.
"Doing the shit you're being paid to do." The ginger growls as the dark one suddenly jerks forward and grabs my ear. He yanks it with him as he moves away, tugging me towards a door. I yelp.
"Ow. Ow. Ow." I try to jerk my head away from him but his strong grip doesn't budge. I do not want to be presented in front of Warner like this, red faced and yelling at an old man for pulling my ear out.
"Running away from work now, are we?" He mutters under his breath. "You must be the new girl they recruited. First day and you're already wandering about. I'll make sure Rosa gives you extra load of work for this. You'll regret your wandering."
I frown at him, in confusion. The ginger guy is following us, chuckling under his breath.
I huff angrily and try to plant my feet to the floor. "I don't have a fücking idea about what you're ta—"
"Don't swear at your seniors under this roof, girly." He warns, kicking a door open with his boot. "Or I swear you will truly regret it."
"But you—"
"Shut up and get back to work." He practically shoves me inside the room.
I manage to straighten myself up before I fall face first to the floor. I whirl around to glare at the man but he already seems to be locking the door shut. I sigh. He thinks I'm some worker girl. I eye my dusty shirt and jeans and the sneakers. I had worn them back again, I didn't want these soldiers to need another reason to gawk at me. Also what I did earlier had pleased Warner. Wearing the allotted dress, I mean.
And that had displeased me very, very much.
I can imagine the workers might wear dull, faded clothes like me, so these men must've thought that I'm some worker too. I turn around to inspect where I am. I groan in frustration. It's a kitchen. Of all the places to work, it had to be kitchen. Where I would have to scrap the plates clean, of the delicious food I never got to touch. Or maybe I have to even cook food. I can't decide which fate is more horrendous for me.
There is a faint smell of cooked food from dinner, lingering in the air. I bite my lip, still hungry from the lack of food. I hadn't eaten more than two bites of dinner. There are many women moving around the kitchen in blurry patterns. Some are young girls like me, and some are as old as my mother would be. I clench my teeth at the though of her. I gingerly try to open the door behind me before one of the working ladies notices me.
"Hey, you!" A shrill voice, dreadfully, is directed at me.
I cringe. Just my, fücking, luck. I turn around, a bittersweet smile plastered on my face andask innocently. "Who me?"
A forty year old woman, with her hands planted on her hips glares at me. Her short fat figure is wrapped in an old yellow dress with an apron above it, splattered with food stains like an abstract painting. Her blonde curly hair is covered in a net cap, a few curls peeking out. Her blue-green eyes drill holes into my existence. She's probably a good five inches shorter than me with her chubby figure and greasy apron but I feel as if she's towering over me.
"No." She drags out, sarcastically. "The girl standing beside you."
Stupidly, I rotate my neck to glance to my side. Of course, there's no one there.
The woman just rolls her eyes. "Ugh, I don't have time for this. Grab an apron from the hook." She points her chin at the spare aprons hanging from hooks. I gingerly tug one off. "And drag your ass here."
She struts away, and I follow her like a dog. I don't know why I'm not yelling at her that I'm not one of the workers here. I should be walking away, not following her. The truth is, I'm actually intimidated by her five feet three inches scorching flame. And I'm not even intimidated by Warner. This woman has an air about her. It's like you just can't not listen to her.
Shut up, don't question and follow.
If I wasn't so scared out of my mind, I might actually like her.
We reach in front of a sink, a pile of dirty plates beside it. It smells like residue of the dinner we had. I know that if I look briefly, I might find the almost squeaky clean plates that belonged to Juliette and I. Barely with a trace of food.
"What's your name girly?" The woman demands, propping her fist against her hip.
"Maisie." I say the first name that pops in my head. She was my best friend in ninth grade. "Hemingsworth."
"You'll be doing the dishes left from dinner every night." She says, giving me a once over. "Be here at twelve am sharp and don't be late." She gestures to the huge pile of unwashed plates, towering over us. "I want all of these plates to come out to be cleaner then they would have been when they were made. Got it, girly? Have I made myself clear to you?"
I nod like a scared idiot.
"I couldn't personally care how long you take to clean them, take the whole night even. I just want a good result. Shiny. Clean. Plates." She emphasizes the last words. "This is my kitchen. Which means you're going to be following my rules. Rule number one is wash those plates squeaky clean."
I nod again.
"Good girl." She says as if I'm a dog. "I'll follow you on with rest of the rules as you continue. Now get to work."
I put on the apron and reach behind my back to knot the laces. I fumble with them but can't really knot them. The woman sees my movements and sighs in annoyance. She's about to move behind me to help when we hear the door being opened. A guy comes strutting in, in his arms a sack of potatoes. His face is hidden behind the huge sack as he moves near us. But I can see that he's about about six feet tall. His tan, muscled arms are hugging the sack to his hard chest.
He comes near us and drops the sack near the woman's feet. A thud resonates from the floor at the contact of it on the floor. His face is finally visible. I stifle a gasp when I take in his handsome features. He can't be more than three or four years older than me. I immediately know that I have a major, major crush on him.
"Hiya, Rosie." He flashes the woman a dazzling smile, I feel my breath catch. "What's cooking?"
"It's Rosalinda, you dimwit." She mutters dragging the sack away towards a small storage room. "And nothing's cooking. Don't you know it's past midnight now. Or did you forget to hit your head to the wall clock?"
"Oh, I know that. I'm just here for the leftovers. I brought those potatoes as a sign of goodwill, Rosie." He grins cheekily, leaning against the counter on his elbow.
"It's Ms. Rosalinda to you, you cheeky idiot." She growls, he just smiles back.
"But your name takes sooo long to say. I personally think Rosie is better."
Rosalinda or Rosie dusts her hands as she returns backs to us, giving the guy a cold glare. "Well, I personally think that you shouldn't be allowed in here. We both don't get what we want, do we?"
"Aw, what do you mean by that?" He pouts, my heart starts to hammer. I hope no one can hear it but me. "You lovvvve me."
"No." She snaps, moving behind me to help me tie the laces. "I wish you would go the hell away."
His eyes land on me when Rosie moves behind me. He gives me a cute boyish grin while I just stare at him, my face a tomato. I look at my sneakers to avoid his grey eyes.
"Who is this cute creature?" He asks Rosie. I nearly faint. He called me cute.
Oh God, how pathetic can I be?
"She's the new recruit." She mutters at my back. "She'll be doing dishes." She gives a final tug to the laces, firmly. She moves ahead of me, her hand jammed into her hips as she glares at the guy. "And you, Shaw, will be getting the hell out of here. Unless you want me to beat you up with my spatula."
"No way." Shaw snickers. "I'm not going until I get at least a little extra dinner from the leftovers from today."
"All you are getting is a finger, pointing in the direction of the way out of here."
"But won't you get bored without me?" He widens his eyes, trying to look innocent. "Am I or am I not your only source of entertainment in these wretched kitchens?"
"Shaw Green, get the hell out of here!" Rosie throws a dirty spoon in his direction. He neatly dodges it.
"Aw, but you love me Rosie." He pouts, feigning hurt.
Rosie continues to glare at him while he pouts innocently. Finally she sighs in defeat.
"Fine." She snaps, going towards a storage. "I'll give you leftovers, but after that you drag your ass out of here and not come back, you hear me?"
"Loud and clear." He hollers back and then grins at me. I'm shocked a bit. He sticks out his hand at me. "Shaw Green. A pleasure to acquire your acquaintance. I work as a soldier here but am here in this filthy kitchen for some extra food."
I immediately freeze at his words. "You're a-a soldier."
"Yup." He says popping the 'P'. He gestures to his outstretched hand. "And you are?"
'Maisie." I lie, finally shaking his hand. "Maisie Hemingsworth."
"Nice meeting you, Maisie." He grins, causing butterflies to erupt in my tummy. I try to crush my girly feelings by brutally sinking the fact that he's a soldier, in my brain. It works, a bit.
I look away from his amused gaze and onto the pile of towering, dirty plates. I try not to sigh warily. I had escaped my room only to be showered with a list of chores. I get to work, thinking that the longer I put this off the less chances I would get to see Juliette. I'm pretty sure one of the worker girls will know where Juliette's room might be. And cleaning dishes is something I used to take care of when I used to live with my parents. It's easy and I could do it quickly. But the difference between now and then is that I didn't have to wash hundreds of plates with a dishwashing soap, I merely used water to cleanse the few bits if crockery we had left. Shaw moves away from my side to follow after Rosie to score some leftovers. I don't blame him. If I'd known about the kitchen earlier, I would've been dishing for some leftovers too.
Knowing that I was lasting on two bites of dinner and I hadn't eaten anything since like two days was not comforting. I'd have to eat something soon.
Or I'd probably pass out.
***
Three hours.
Three fucking hours.
It takes three fucking hours to clean the plates messed up after dinner in this freaking Reestablishment Army building. There were more than five hundred plates. I lost count after five hundred and seventy four. The more I counted, the more sad and weary I got. So I decided to ditch the count. Shaw left two hours ago so there isn't anything mildly interesting in the kitchen. The lack of food in my system causes me to feel a bit lightheaded. I try to ignore my rumbling belly and try to make small talk with one of the worker girls as she helps me dry the last ten plates.
"So have you heard about the two girls they brought in?" I ask conspicuously, making her think I'm in on the gossip.
"Yeah," says Maya, the worker girl. She has long blonde hair, knotted at the top of her head in a bun. "I mean, who hasn't? It's not like it's everyday that asshole brings in two psychopath girls here."
Her grey eyes look unsuspecting and innocently dumb as she towel dries a plate. I clench my teeth to stop myself from yelling all the colorful words I could think of.
"What asshole?" I ask, trying to calm my voice.
I hate that word. Psychopath. A lot of girls used to call my sister that in school, it made my blood boil. And even now the word triggers something feral in me. I got suspended for the those girls who said it in my presence. Called my sweet sister a psychopath. And after that no one came close to me. With the exception of a few friends who knew I wouldn't hurt them.
Maya rolls her eyes as she places the dried plate back into the stand. "Warner, of course."
This makes me feel a teeny, tiny bit better. The workers here also had an underlying hatred for him. At least, Maya did. We both don't see Rosie standing behind us at that moment. She must've heard most of the conversation. She smacks the back of Maya's head.
"Stupid girl, do you want to get shot here?" She hisses as Maya winces and rubs the back of her head. "The walls have eyes and ears. You do not want to be caught saying shit like that, you hear?"
I remember Adam saying something similar. Last time I saw him, he was escorting Juliette to her room. He's probably on duty, making sure she doesn't escape. But I know what he's really doing. Keeping her safe.
"As you like, Rosie." Maya mumbles.
Rosie directs her ferocious glare right at me. "Rule number two is that you will never ever ... speak against the Reestablishment or the leader of our Sector in my kitchen."
I nod, reverently.
Rosie moves away from us both.
Maya looks at me. "She's such a control-freak."
Maya reminds me of all those mean girls that used to bully Juliette. Sadly, I couldn't stick up for her then. I was afraid the teachers would report to my parents that I had to try to contact her. It was a necessary evil for my parents to send me to the same school as her, there was only one school within five hundred mile radius of our place. I got my revenge on those girls though. They tried to bully me too. But unlike Juliette, I broke all of their noses. I got suspended for three weeks. But it was worth it.
"Yeah, totally." I feign agreement. "So anyway, about the psycho girls..."
"Yeah?" She licks her lips. "I heard from a few soldiers that they're killers." She snickers. "Like serious legit psychotic killers. I mean, who would do that? Kill a person, I mean. I totally want to kill Rosie most of the time when she's barking orders at me but that doesn't mean I'd actually ever do it."
I don't want to tell her how much I actually want to kill her, Maya, myself at that very moment.
"Oh." I try to breathe to calm myself. It's not really helping. "What else do the soldiers say?"
"Just that they're freaks and that they—"
"Ok, I'm done with the dishes." I force cheerfulness into my words. I think I'll have to sleep without Juliette's presence tonight. "I'm going to go get a shut eye."
I pull the knots of my apron lose as Maya blinks at me.
"Oh, okay."
I hang the apron on a hook and give Rosie a nod.
"Good night."
She nods back. I plunk open the door, with surprising ease. I mentally curse it for not opening earlier. I could've gotten out of here and gotten to Juliette. I skid out, relieved at finally retrieving freedom. I'm so sleepy and hungry that I'm about to collapse in exhaustion. I just want to go back to my own bed and hit the hay for a good solid twelve hours. I'm about to give a cry of happiness into dark, empty hall.
But I run straight into Gomez.
✨✨✨✨