Alius Nox noctis Solus

Sakku’s hips jutted out through the thin fabric of his oversized shirt. He folded his arms over his delicate frame self-consciously as the terribly bright green eyes of the other boy surveyed him. Sakku flinched away from those piercing, unafraid eyes, so honest and sure of the mind to which they belonged. So unlike his own, even if the colour was similar. He let his hair fall into his face, hid behind it and stared at his feet.
He thought he heard the other boy chuckle.

“Sakku, right?” The abruptness of the boy’s voice made Sakku jump. He peered up at him from behind the curtain of hair that covered his face. He never got the chance to reply.
“Odd name.... What’s the origin?”
Sakku shrugged quickly, still watching the other boy shyly through his fringe.
“No matter. I’m Micheal” He smiled and held his hand out towards Sakku. Sakku shook it briefly before pulling his hand away. Micheal’s hands were cool and smooth, their touch seemed to linger even after Sakku had replaced his hand in its protective position around his body. Micheal smiled, and the smile, Sakku noticed was not unpleasant.
“If you’re ever after something you can’t get here, anything out-of-the-way, then I’m the one to talk to” He continued. He was a trader. Nothing dangerous - just non-regulation stuff. Traders were liked by everyone, especially the guards. Sakku was lucky to have been partnered with him.

A sudden banging, metallic and hollow, caused both of the boys to turn their eyes toward the door.
“Lights!” a loud voice called from the other side, and Sakku looked back to Micheal to watch his reaction before undertaking any of his own. Micheal frowned, though the brightness in his eyes did not fade. He pointed at a bunk on the far side of the room with a long, pale finger. “You can sleep there. We can talk in the morning and you can tell me all about you, Sakku.”
Three short clicks were a final warning before the two boys were pitched into darkness as the lights were extinguished. Sakku fumbled through the darkness until his shins bumped painfully against the cold metal frame of the bed. Biting back a cry of surprise mixed with pain, he clambered onto the bed. He would have sat there for a moment longer, he thought, if it wasn’t for Micheal’s whisper across the room.
‘Sleep, you’ll need it’.
So, instead he tucked his shirt beneath his pillow before curling up and closing his eyes. He was asleep in moments.

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

“Shit!” The cry was loud enough to wake him, even if the blinding lights weren’t. Sometime during the night the sheets had slipped down to Sakku’s waist, and now Micheal stood above him, horror in his eyes. Sakku let out a startled cry and pulled up the sheets to cover his chest. He knew that it would do no good.

Even to himself, the sight of Sakku’s emaciated form was disgusting. His ribs, each and every one, was visible. His spine showed like a knotted cord. His skin was like thin canvas stretched over his bony frame. Sakku swallowed and looked away, his eyes filled with shame. All his insecurity and self consciousness came flooding back in a bitter wave, making him horribly, sickeningly, self-aware. He could not meet Micheal’s eyes.
“Shit....” Micheal repeated, though softer this time. He watched Sakku’s reaction and the brightness of his eyes seemed to flicker and dull, though never fade completely. “Did somebody do that to you?”
Still, he seemed so sure about himself. More curious of what he had seen than embarrassed or ashamed, the way Sakku would have been.
Sakku nodded, then shook his head. He didn’t know how to answer. Yes, someone had done this to him, but no, they hadn’t. He had done this to himself. He knew it made little sense but it was the only answer he had. It was the truth. Micheal frowned but seemed to decide that this confusing answer was good enough. He turned away and Sakku took the opportunity to cover his pathetic body with a too-large shirt. When he turned again, Micheal was at the door, beckoning him out of the room. It had been firmly locked behind him last night, but now it stood wide open, offering a glimpse of the pale corridor beyond. As he followed Micheal, he caught glimpses of doors leading to other rooms like theirs. The carefully held reservations he had about this place were starting to slip away.
The mess hall was full of other boys just like Micheal. None of them were like Sakku. None were so thin, so shy, so self-conscious and unhappy. They were smiling, laughing even. That was when he met Joel and Danny.
Mostly he stayed quiet. Watched instead of spoke. But every now and then he would find himself smiling shyly with them.

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

For the third night running, Sakku had been snatched from sleep with sweat beaded on his brow, his pale chest heaving. Vivid red-black images had been flickering violently behind his eyelids and he had come to consciousness with the echo of a scream stuck in his throat. His nightmares, as usual, were too hazy to recall. Not that he had ever tried. The lingering feeling of dread had always been enough to stem any curiosity.
Tonight however, he did not wake completely. His mind had succumbed in part to the wistful beckon of sleep. He drifted in that half consciousness, with the memory of terror blanketing him. In his mind was only semi-forgotten fear and confusion. He whimpered and found in moments that the cold bed was warm with the presence of another, that strong arms embraced his frail body.
In the morning the nightmare would be forgotten. The embrace would be remembered only as a dream, but he would not forget it. The illusion of comfort would be something he would hold onto.

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

Sakku found himself outside, the wind pushed his hair away from his brow revealing clear, vibrant eyes. His brown-green was not as free from insecurity and fear as Micheal’s bright-greens were, but nor were they as bound by it as they had been only two weeks ago when he arrived.. He breathed slowly. The air was fresh and clean. He felt free, even though he could see the chain-mesh fence in the distance. He could have climbed it if he so desired, but he had no reason to. It was more to keep others out than to keep him in.
Micheal stood behind him watching the skyline. He was smiling. Only two nights ago Sakku had woken with the warm embrace lingering after the nightmare. He had known then that it was not a dream and something within him both lost and found itself at once. He had seen Micheal’s face caught in the refuge of sleep, still and strong arms around Sakku’s body.

Micheal pushed Sakku gently, taking him from a memory of which they had not yet spoke.
“Day-dreaming Sakku?” Joel called from somewhere to his left. Sakku turned from the wind and let his hair fall into his eyes, hiding them. He blushed. The four boys laughed until Danny and Joel turned away. Micheal stayed and looked at Sakku for a little longer, that smile lingering.
Sakku thought he heard him chuckle.

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

Three years later, at the restless age of nineteen, Sakku stood with his back to the sun and to the place that had housed him these years past. He had grown. He was taller now, taller than the other boys. His chest and shoulders were broader and muscle and fat lay between the skin and bone. His hair had been cut at the front, out of his eyes. He stood straight.
Sweet mid-afternoon sun took him. This was freedom. It was happiness. It was the weightlessness of all that surrounded him. The earth itself.

He held tightly to the hand that held tightly to his own. That touch grounded him, kept him from getting lost with that weightlessness.
Micheal smiled. Sakku sought out those wonderfully bright green eyes. He did not envy their fearlessness or honesty. He did not notice, even, for these things were no longer differences between them. They no longer stood out.

The gold sunlight made Sakku’s eyes glow as he turned slightly to see the sign behind him. ‘THE WORTHINGTON HOME FOR BOYS’. He remembered fearing that sign, or rather fearing its elusiveness. The lack of knowledge that it gave him. That fear was absent now. It had been for a long time.

So that was how it was. Golden sunlight cast upon him, smooth pavement beneath him, the soft and warm scent of freshly mown grass in the air.
This was freedom.

Freedom from loneliness, freedom from fear, freedom from confinement, from insecurity, from hate, from nightmares, from the fall.

Only Micheal kept him from drifting away.