Area 52
004
"He shouldn't have tried to escape," Jake says, regarding my former roommate. "Everyone knows the tigers get you, if you don't get shot."
"Why would he run away, though?"
"There are really tigers out there?" A skinny boy asks, looking fearful.
"Of course," Jake laughs. "Why? Thiking of running away?"
The kid pales. "Nooo! N-Noo..." he shakes his head, practically trembling. Jake and Sam are having their fun with him.
"What do you think it would be like to get eaten by a tiger?" Jake asks, to tease him. "Do you think you'd die right away? Or maybe he'd gnaw your arm of first. Then your leg... can you imagine that? Getting chewed up, limb by limb..."
"Alright, class," the teacher snaps, but they keep at it.
"Why would anyone even want to run away, though? We have everything we need here."
Are you kidding me? Is that what I used to sound like?
I keep quiet. No one knows who I used to live with. But my teeth and fists are clenched as I listen. Logan was never my frien, but it's never a good thing when someone dies, and certainly not something to joke about. Though the questions do make me wonder. Was it slow? Did it hurt?
"How do you think the body looked when the found him?" Jake's enjoying this. "All chewed up and mangled and pulverized an-"
"That is enough, monsters!" the teacher bellows, her deep voice booming through the cramped room. I wince at the word. Though she doesn't mean it literally, that's how we're treated here - like monsters that need to be locked up in cages, away from society. She slams her ruler down on the desk. "Get back to work, all of you, or the next person to speak will join Logan."
We all know she isn't bluffing or exaggerating. I stare down at my DigiDesk as the room falls silent.
_____________
Joe doesn't come to school for a few days, and he never leaves my thoughts. When he finally does come back, he looks terrible. Bloodshot eyes with dark bruises underneath, hair sticking up at all angles. And he smells. But in his eyes, instead of sadness, there is rage.
"How can this be possible?" he demands as he slams the door to his locker closed. "Are we no longer Americans?"
"I don't think we're part of America, technically."
"Texas is! It's a state!"
"Texas?"
"Oh, sorry; Area Fifty-Two. Even the name in itself is a ridicule. You know, when I first came here, everything I heard or saw about this place was good. Sparkling clean cities and communities, real, big houses, lakes, amazing schools - they portrayed it as paradise. No one on the outside knows the truth. They don't know that we have four families in one house, practically starving, getting killed just for speaking out... and we can't do shit about it. And you," he grabs my collar, "Are just one of them."
He shoves me backwards, leaving me standing there in a daze.
_________________
Silence is a strange sound.
All the boys seem to be hit hard by Logan's death - apparently thy were all closer than I thought, Larson takes it especially hard, and he takes it out on me. And I let him.
When he's done with me, he slams my head backwards into the wall and stalks away. I haven't made a sound the entire time. I wash my face off. Demetrie doesn't ask, and at school, neither does Joe. He stays away from me. I don't know what I've done, but my only real friend hates me now, and it hurts. I've gone back to sitting with Alexandar. H's alright, and good for a laugh sometimes, but to him, everything is a joke.
And, like Joe said, he's brainwashed. "Kid shouldn't have run," he says. "Shouldn't have been so stupid."
Stupid. His exact words. He talks about it like it's some joke. Or a movie, just something to laugh at.
Joe finally notices my black eye and comes up to me, demanding to know what happened. I just shrug. Walk away, but he grabs my shoulder. "What happened?!"
He sounds more angry than concerned. "Why do you care? You haven't talked to me in days."
He grabs both of my shoulders. Squeezes me angrily, grips me like he's going to shake me, but then lets go. "Please," he whispers.
I sigh. "Larson."
"Larson Dailey?"
"Yeah."
He is even more outraged. "How?! Why?! Don't you live with him?"
"Yeah."
"What did he do?"
I sigh and lean back against a locker. "He's upset. About Logan."
"So he beats you?"
"It's how he gets it out."
"And you let him?"
I shrug. "No big deal."
Joe's practically shitting himself, but I just walk away. Away from him, past the classroom doors, shoving my way through hundreds and hundreds of students, and out the door.
______________
The food comes the next day. A bag for each of us. There's six - they included mine, but still one for Logan, too. Each bag holds five min cartons of milk - the kind we get at school - a mini loaf of bread, five mini boxes of wheat cereal, three apples, a box of rice, a potato, some carrots, a bushel of bananas, and six bottles of water. Plus the bag that every family gets, with a carton of eggs, a bag of flour, a bottle of cooking oil, salt, sugar, and a stick of butter. It's not much, but it's all we get. And at least the rationing helps keep us pretty healthy - nothing is bad for you. Demetrie whips us up some rice for dinner, and in the morning we destroy the kitchen making pancakes.
Joe talks to me again in I.A. "Nick," he whispers, glancing up at our teacher. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," I sigh, staring down at the DigiDesk, scribbling my notes in with the stylus. I finish, connect it to my Tablet with the cable, and it downloads the page to it so I can study at home.
"I just... I'm worried about you."
I open up a blank screen and doodle. "Joe, I'm fine."
"You're not fine."
"Joe, yes I am."
"Boys! You two shut your mouths or I will terminate your lesson!"
I'm done, so it doesn't matter. "Why does it even matter?" he hisses. "We're never going to get real jobs anyway."
"Joe... don't talk about that... please."
"Why shouldn't I?"
"You'll be killed!"
"Better than living here."
Nick is about to rebuke, but his teacher shushes them again.
He has to stop Joe from doing something stupid.
_________________
Tension is growing in the air - something big is going to happen soon. Everyone can feel it. But what?
Rain falls from the overcast sky and turns the dirt ground into nothing but sludge. Grass is rare in the Area, as every inch of space is industrialized. And with half the buildings falling down, it looks like a wasteland. The only clean, sanitary places are the hospitals. They still remain the best in the country, and maybe even the world.
But rain this time of year is a blessing after the hot, dry weather, even it if turns everything into a pool of mud and floods the streets. It goes on for days - sometimes letting up, but never stopping. On the second day, winds begin to howl, rattling roofs and walls, knocking Levicars over and carrying trash and debris down the street in a muddy river. The boys all screech when the power goes out, leaving us with only the dim light that pours in through the windows. School is cancelled, and the boredom and restlessess sets in as the boys begin to fight eachother. I can't escape the chaos and screaming, and the ceiling above my bunk leaks so badly that I have to put a pot under it and sleep on the floor.
Day five and the rain continues, though the wind has died down. The food doesn't come on Monday, and we have to live on last week's oatmeal. The boys steal mine, so I don't even eat.
But all I can think about is Joe, and his sagging roof.
On the eighth day, it stops, just as soon as it started. There's no letting up, no slow dying down, no final drizzle - it just stops. Everyone stops and listens in disbelief. After a week of horrible rain, it's over.
School resumes the following day. The mud sucks your shoes in, practically pulling them off your feet, and the building is fulll of the more than aggravating sound of squeaking rubber.
Joe isn't there.
He returns the next day, looking tired and bedraggled. His roof caved in, he says. That bitter old man was buried and they haven't found him. Everything in the house is destroyed,and they need to relocate.
"I might never see you again," he whispers. "If they move us far enough."
Ad so we hold eachother in a more-than-friendly embrace. And I cry, because Joe is all I have in this cold world where death and terror surrounds us. Love is forbidden here, but I think it's happening to me.
"Why would he run away, though?"
"There are really tigers out there?" A skinny boy asks, looking fearful.
"Of course," Jake laughs. "Why? Thiking of running away?"
The kid pales. "Nooo! N-Noo..." he shakes his head, practically trembling. Jake and Sam are having their fun with him.
"What do you think it would be like to get eaten by a tiger?" Jake asks, to tease him. "Do you think you'd die right away? Or maybe he'd gnaw your arm of first. Then your leg... can you imagine that? Getting chewed up, limb by limb..."
"Alright, class," the teacher snaps, but they keep at it.
"Why would anyone even want to run away, though? We have everything we need here."
Are you kidding me? Is that what I used to sound like?
I keep quiet. No one knows who I used to live with. But my teeth and fists are clenched as I listen. Logan was never my frien, but it's never a good thing when someone dies, and certainly not something to joke about. Though the questions do make me wonder. Was it slow? Did it hurt?
"How do you think the body looked when the found him?" Jake's enjoying this. "All chewed up and mangled and pulverized an-"
"That is enough, monsters!" the teacher bellows, her deep voice booming through the cramped room. I wince at the word. Though she doesn't mean it literally, that's how we're treated here - like monsters that need to be locked up in cages, away from society. She slams her ruler down on the desk. "Get back to work, all of you, or the next person to speak will join Logan."
We all know she isn't bluffing or exaggerating. I stare down at my DigiDesk as the room falls silent.
_____________
Joe doesn't come to school for a few days, and he never leaves my thoughts. When he finally does come back, he looks terrible. Bloodshot eyes with dark bruises underneath, hair sticking up at all angles. And he smells. But in his eyes, instead of sadness, there is rage.
"How can this be possible?" he demands as he slams the door to his locker closed. "Are we no longer Americans?"
"I don't think we're part of America, technically."
"Texas is! It's a state!"
"Texas?"
"Oh, sorry; Area Fifty-Two. Even the name in itself is a ridicule. You know, when I first came here, everything I heard or saw about this place was good. Sparkling clean cities and communities, real, big houses, lakes, amazing schools - they portrayed it as paradise. No one on the outside knows the truth. They don't know that we have four families in one house, practically starving, getting killed just for speaking out... and we can't do shit about it. And you," he grabs my collar, "Are just one of them."
He shoves me backwards, leaving me standing there in a daze.
_________________
Silence is a strange sound.
All the boys seem to be hit hard by Logan's death - apparently thy were all closer than I thought, Larson takes it especially hard, and he takes it out on me. And I let him.
When he's done with me, he slams my head backwards into the wall and stalks away. I haven't made a sound the entire time. I wash my face off. Demetrie doesn't ask, and at school, neither does Joe. He stays away from me. I don't know what I've done, but my only real friend hates me now, and it hurts. I've gone back to sitting with Alexandar. H's alright, and good for a laugh sometimes, but to him, everything is a joke.
And, like Joe said, he's brainwashed. "Kid shouldn't have run," he says. "Shouldn't have been so stupid."
Stupid. His exact words. He talks about it like it's some joke. Or a movie, just something to laugh at.
Joe finally notices my black eye and comes up to me, demanding to know what happened. I just shrug. Walk away, but he grabs my shoulder. "What happened?!"
He sounds more angry than concerned. "Why do you care? You haven't talked to me in days."
He grabs both of my shoulders. Squeezes me angrily, grips me like he's going to shake me, but then lets go. "Please," he whispers.
I sigh. "Larson."
"Larson Dailey?"
"Yeah."
He is even more outraged. "How?! Why?! Don't you live with him?"
"Yeah."
"What did he do?"
I sigh and lean back against a locker. "He's upset. About Logan."
"So he beats you?"
"It's how he gets it out."
"And you let him?"
I shrug. "No big deal."
Joe's practically shitting himself, but I just walk away. Away from him, past the classroom doors, shoving my way through hundreds and hundreds of students, and out the door.
______________
The food comes the next day. A bag for each of us. There's six - they included mine, but still one for Logan, too. Each bag holds five min cartons of milk - the kind we get at school - a mini loaf of bread, five mini boxes of wheat cereal, three apples, a box of rice, a potato, some carrots, a bushel of bananas, and six bottles of water. Plus the bag that every family gets, with a carton of eggs, a bag of flour, a bottle of cooking oil, salt, sugar, and a stick of butter. It's not much, but it's all we get. And at least the rationing helps keep us pretty healthy - nothing is bad for you. Demetrie whips us up some rice for dinner, and in the morning we destroy the kitchen making pancakes.
Joe talks to me again in I.A. "Nick," he whispers, glancing up at our teacher. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," I sigh, staring down at the DigiDesk, scribbling my notes in with the stylus. I finish, connect it to my Tablet with the cable, and it downloads the page to it so I can study at home.
"I just... I'm worried about you."
I open up a blank screen and doodle. "Joe, I'm fine."
"You're not fine."
"Joe, yes I am."
"Boys! You two shut your mouths or I will terminate your lesson!"
I'm done, so it doesn't matter. "Why does it even matter?" he hisses. "We're never going to get real jobs anyway."
"Joe... don't talk about that... please."
"Why shouldn't I?"
"You'll be killed!"
"Better than living here."
Nick is about to rebuke, but his teacher shushes them again.
He has to stop Joe from doing something stupid.
_________________
Tension is growing in the air - something big is going to happen soon. Everyone can feel it. But what?
Rain falls from the overcast sky and turns the dirt ground into nothing but sludge. Grass is rare in the Area, as every inch of space is industrialized. And with half the buildings falling down, it looks like a wasteland. The only clean, sanitary places are the hospitals. They still remain the best in the country, and maybe even the world.
But rain this time of year is a blessing after the hot, dry weather, even it if turns everything into a pool of mud and floods the streets. It goes on for days - sometimes letting up, but never stopping. On the second day, winds begin to howl, rattling roofs and walls, knocking Levicars over and carrying trash and debris down the street in a muddy river. The boys all screech when the power goes out, leaving us with only the dim light that pours in through the windows. School is cancelled, and the boredom and restlessess sets in as the boys begin to fight eachother. I can't escape the chaos and screaming, and the ceiling above my bunk leaks so badly that I have to put a pot under it and sleep on the floor.
Day five and the rain continues, though the wind has died down. The food doesn't come on Monday, and we have to live on last week's oatmeal. The boys steal mine, so I don't even eat.
But all I can think about is Joe, and his sagging roof.
On the eighth day, it stops, just as soon as it started. There's no letting up, no slow dying down, no final drizzle - it just stops. Everyone stops and listens in disbelief. After a week of horrible rain, it's over.
School resumes the following day. The mud sucks your shoes in, practically pulling them off your feet, and the building is fulll of the more than aggravating sound of squeaking rubber.
Joe isn't there.
He returns the next day, looking tired and bedraggled. His roof caved in, he says. That bitter old man was buried and they haven't found him. Everything in the house is destroyed,and they need to relocate.
"I might never see you again," he whispers. "If they move us far enough."
Ad so we hold eachother in a more-than-friendly embrace. And I cry, because Joe is all I have in this cold world where death and terror surrounds us. Love is forbidden here, but I think it's happening to me.