Area 52

I'm considered an orphan now. Grandpa was the only relative I had living here, and he's dead now. But I can't have my parents come down here to take care of me - they have a life back home. They both have jobs, they have my little brother, they have lives. I can't make them leave all of that behind.

I write them, explaining what happened. Or they'll never find out. I try not to let too much emotion slip into it, though my hand shakes as I write, with a mixture of grief and anger.

Grandpa knew they kill you for speaking out against the government. He's always known. But he still did - in public, knowing full well that he'd be shot for it if he was heard. And, with all the police officers and guards swarming around this place, he'd be heard for sure. So what the hell was he thinking? Did he even think about me? The rest of his family? The consequences?

I shake my head. Stupid hundred-and-fifty year old man.

Back home, they'll probably have a funeral for Grandpa Jen, even without his body. They'll celebrate his life and family members will come to mourn together and offer condolences. But there are no such festivities here. He'll be buried six feet under, in a box, like a dog, and no one will think twice about it. Or maybe cremated for fuel. I get a vision of seeing the flames eating his body and I shudder, suddenly feeling nauseas. I swallow the bile that comes up in my throat. It burns. I grip the pen tighter. It feels awkward - all big and bulky. I NEVER use pen and paper, except to write letters, which I rarely even do. It's an almost extinct form of communication.

I tell Mom that I'm going to live in a house with five other boys - other orphans. At least the other families will have an extra room and two less mouths to feed. It can't be that bad, right? I assure them that I don't need them here, that they should stay where they are, live their lives and take care of Frankie. In less than two years I'll be going to work, anyway.

__________

Two truths and a lie. Quick, pick the lie!:

1. The house that we live in is huge - much bigger than my old place...

2. and there's finally enough food to go around...

3. and Demetrie takes SUCH good care of us...

Which one is the lie?

Answer: All of the above.

The boys are noisy and smelly, and Demetire just seems pissed off that I'm there. when he opens the door, his greeting is a scowl to go along with a spiteful "Wa-hoo, anodda mouth to feed. Oh, come on, c'mun inside, kid."

I bite down on my lower lip and shuffle into the tiny house. It's two floors, unlike my old one, but it's very small and the first floor is just a tiny hallway and, from what I can see, a kitchen. The wallpaper is peeling and the lighting is dim, and there's paper and clothes strewn all over the floor. The air smells stale. The staircase is rickety, and it looks like you'd go right through a floorboard if you stepped too hard. I clutch my tiny bag of belongings and paper down the hallway. A light's on at the end of it, and upstairs, I hear pounding feet and loud voices. I'm already nervous, but I won't show it.

"How many other people are here?"

"Five," Demetrie says. He has the same name as one of my classmates, and the same arrogant attitude to go with it. He's young - only about fifty, with a full head of dark hair and a smooth face. I can already tell, though, that he's one of those people who thinks kids aren't good for anything except cold, hard labor. He, being a caretaker, wouldn't know anything about that. "You can go meet them."

I swallow and shuffle up the stairs, stepping carefully on the creaking steps. There's three doors upstairs, and I quickly figure out which one to go n - the one all the shouting is coming from. There's a single bedroom with a pair of bunk beds. In the middle of the floor is a mattress, and I assume it's my bed, until I see that it looks like someone's been sleeping in it, with the sheets and comforter all disheveled. I look up to see one of the top bunks unoccupied. Don't people usually go for those first?

No one seems to notice me for several moments. The room's tiny, with only three or four feet of space in between the beds, and dirty clothes strewn all over the floor. There's a dresser shoved against the unoccupied wall, and the drawers are too full to close. The walls are a plain white, and there's a ceiling fan that looks like it will fall down any minute now.

"He-ey, New Kid!"

Everyone turns to look at me. There's two boys sitting on a top bunk, one on the other, and two on the floor, previously fighting over something. I already feel awkward and intimidated as one of them walks towards me. He's clearly the leader of the group, judging by that arrogant smirk, and the one who greeted me. "So you're the new kid. Who are ya?"

He's taller than me, and a bit scary. He has a smirk on his face and a not-so-nice twinkle in his brown eye. I want to back away, but I already know better than to show fear. I stare him blankly in the face, switching my bag to my other arm. I clear my throat as his eyes travel up and down my body, looking me over. "Nick."

"Ah-hahhh," he smiles. "Well, fro-bro. That's Finn-" he points to a light skinned Mexican kid with dark curly hair, shorter than mine - "Larson-" A small, short boy with scruffy blonde hair and a childish face - "Theo-" a tanned, blonde boy with a slight build - "James-" a light-skinned teen with neatly parted, long dark hair and a dark freckle on his chin- "And me. Logan." He nodded his head, his gelled faux-hawk pointing to the ceiling. Where did he get hair gel? I wonder what's 'wrong' with all of them. "That's your bunk. Up there."

I nod, uncomfortable and feeling awkward. I try to avoid everyone's prying eyes as I grip the ladder, wincing as it creaks under my weight. I hoist myself up to my bunk and sit down, but I scream when I'm greeted by a small swam of cockroaches milling around on the sheets. Everyone laughs out loud, and my eyes water when I realized that they've done this themselves. I rip off the sheet and toss it aside, trying to pretend not to care. But I know that I've just arrived in Hell.

Later, I find out why they gave me the top bunk. It's at least ten degrees hotter in the already humid room, and the roof leaks right above me. Drip, drip, drip. It chills me to the bone all night.

I want to go home.

I get woken up in the middle of the night by something crashing into me. I'm instantly awake, screaming, as Logan is coming at me with an electric razor, reaching for my hair.

I'm not letting this happen. I won't let these guys treat me like a punching bag. I scream at the top volume and pitch of my voice, thrashing on the bed as James and Theo climb up to grab my hands, pinning me down. Infuriated beyond belief, with the sound of the razor whirring in my ears, I feel the heat of my anger rushing through my limbs as I thrust my knee up into the air to make it smash into Logan's crotch. He screams, dropping the razor so it falls right on my head, still whirring away. It cuts my skin deep, and I feel like a pissed off animal as I yank my hands free. I grab the razor and chuck it at the window, causing the glass to break so it goes flying into the night with a crash and a shatter. Everyone stares at me in awe, as Logan writhes in pain. A part of myself that I don't like is extremely proud for hurting him. I don't think they were expecting me to fight back.

Seconds later, the door bursts open. Everyone gets quiet and turns to face the angry Demetrie. His face is scarlet and I can see the vein in his neck. "What is going on in here... who broke that window?!"

He terrifies me. I fully expect them all to rat me out, but everyone is silent. He steps towards the bunk, his face red.

"Well?! Who did it?! Speak up or you're all getting it!"

It's Larson who rats me out, though quietly, as Demetrie advances towards us. He turns to look at me, with an almost sadistic kind of smirk. I hold my breath, and I could almost swear my heart stops beating. I hear someone whisper "He's gonna get it."

"You wretched chill'ren!" he snarls. "You want me to send any'a down to the station?!"

There's a chorus of screams and 'no's. Demetrie grabs my arm and yanks me to the bathroom.

___________

I quickly learn that it's survival of the fittest in this house. After a traumatizing ice bath last night, as punishment for breaking the window, I know now to fear Demetrie, and not to let the guys push me around, either. I know most of the reason why Larson told on me was out of fear, not out of spite. The bath was truly and terribly awful, and I've been freezing since then.

At breakfast, as if last night wasn’t enough, he pulls me over to the counter, and from the way everyone's watching me and the force behind the pull, I know to be afraid of what's about to happen. But I keep my face stoic, eyes cold. I've never liked being told what to do or dragged around, and if someone starts trying to control me, they regret it.

He reaches into a cabinet and pulls out what I recognize as a Hellpepper. My eyes widen slightly, though I try not to let it show. The blue color makes it unmistakable. I don't know how he got it - they're native only to the recently discovered Crèdell islands. But they're known very well for how hot they are.

But I don't have too long to ponder how he obtained it before I'm eating it. He pulls some tape out of the cabinet, snaps the pepper in half and shoves it in my mouth, and then slaps the tape over my lip. And it's so hot that I instantly cry - nothing I can do about it. It's so hot that it hurts - it literally BURNS. But I'm determined not to satisfy him. I close my eyes tightly and chew defiantly, wincing every time my teeth sink into it and the juice seeps around my mouth, and the pain makes my whole face contort.

I swallow. It hurts even more going down, burning my throat and feeling like I'm swallowing needles. He rips the tape off, growls something along the lines of 'this is never going to happen again' and then shoves me out to the LeviBus when it comes.
____________

We get to school extremely fast, which is a huge relief. I step off the levitating magnetic bus and race into school, moving as fast as I can to the nearest water fountain.

"Hey!"

I wipe my mouth and lift my head up from the soothing stream of water, turning around to face the boy I met yesterday. I must look like shit, because his eyes bug out of his head. "Oh my God, are you okay?"

I shrug, suddenly conscious of the red stripe across my mouth, and the cut on my forehead, and my messy hair and disheveled clothes. And I feel dizzy from not eating, with my blood sugar lower than it should be. "Rough night, it's fine," I say, giving a forced, exaggerated smile. But he doesn't buy it.

"What happened? And your mouth! And your head!"

I rub the small cut and wince slightly, looking down at my fingers when I take them away, almost expecting to see blood on them. I make a face, then sigh and look at Joe. "My grandfather died. I had to go live with a caretaker, and five other boys. One of them tried to shave my head, so I kicked him and he dropped the razor on my forehead, and then I threw it at the window and broke it. So my caretaker," I scoff, "Made me eat a Hellpepper." I leave the ice bath part out.

"O-oh my god!" he breathes, shaking his head. "No... Nick... that's messed up. Aren't Hellpeppers illegal to buy and sell, anyway?"

I shrug. "I don't know."

"How'd he even get them? Don't we have rations?"

"Again. I don't know."

He shakes his head disapprovingly. "You shouldn't be put in there. None of us deserve to be here. This is inhumane."

I stare at him, his words and the words of my deceased grandfather blending into one in my head. "You sound just like Jen."

____________

After school, Demetrie informs us all that we're getting our birth control injections today. We get them once a year, which is what keeps us from having children. (Even if someone, somehow, DID get pregnant, they'd be forced to kill the baby.)

We all have to get it. I sigh as I sit in the LeviCar, closing my eyes and resting my head against the window. The boys are hitting eachother and making obscene comments, and judging by Demetrie's reflection in the rear view mirror, he doesn't appreciate it. And I don't like getting bumped into or smashed against the door or getting my head banged against the window, either.

We get there in just a couple minutes, though, once we break 100MPH. The doctor's office is pretty far away, in the city. And when we get there, we're all herded into the building, with my roommates shouting and racing around like wild animals, acting like a bunch of seventh graders.

The doctor's office is small and overcrowded as always. It's a part of one of the larger hospitals - on the first floor there's a smaller clinic, just for general purposes. The boy's shouts and loud stamping feet echo through the whole building, and I'm embarrassed to be seen with them. I'm never a loud person, and I don't like being around loud people either. I sit awkwardly in the waiting room, trying to sink down into the chair and disappear.

Everyone seems to be getting their shots today, and there's a very. very long weight before we're called back, one by one. I hear Finn screaming, and Logan practically cursing out the doctor, but when it's my turn I just sit still and let them stick the needle into my arm. They put a little bandage on it, and I ponder a bit over the primitive medical procedure, but I don't think about it for long before we're all herded back into the LeviCar. I'm exhausted from everything that's happened today, so as soon as we get home, I retreat to my bunk bed and sleep, enjoying the peace of the empty room as all the boys raid the kitchen.