Kingdom Come

ii. Bulletproof

When I was younger, I would visit my father in his chamber. He would either be at his desk, head buried in a thick old book of diagrams, or in conversation with a patient.

The air was always too cold, the walls too white, and the place smelt like rubber gloves and sanitizer. I would be finishing schoolwork while listening to the sound of his voice and the rattling of his pen against the glass.

When I had woken up, it was like I was seven again. My eyes had tried to focus on a  white ceiling that seemed to move closer and then further away. Sanitizer, thick plastic, and cheap hospital coffee. My mind had strained, looking for the sound of his voice, the pen, and the hum of the light.

Until a faint periodic beeping had grown louder and louder.

---

The thin hospital slippers do not help against the cold linoleum floor as I stand next to the window, peering outside.

The city feels bleak despite the bright colours. There is something obnoxious about the pastel pinks, golden yellows, and the banners of blue and green. The billboards loop the same videos. The streets circle the same skyscrapers, with their black and blue bodies obscured in a haze of smog.

Hosting the most important and expensive counties, the district of Northside is the star of our province. Built like a kaleidoscope, it's always reflecting and exaggerating the lives of its inhabitants. Whether it's the gaudy avenues, the minimal condominiums or the lush old-school townhouses—there is a corner tailored to everyone's tastes.

The hospital window is a full-length glass screen. I press my palm against it as I lean forward in concentration.

There it is.

The water reservoir and pump.

There is one in each county, which makes fifteen just in the district of Northside.  From this far, those large structures surrounded by concrete walls look like a pair of dice. In the county near Silver Valley border, an isolated cluster of houses on the edge of the district Everton, the reservoir looked...different. Barbed fences, rusting metal rods, and offensive graffiti.

However, this is Northside, a district diametrically opposed to Everton. Here the inspections are regular and the walls are clean. In the last decade, every county in this district has elected AFD politicians, both in the provincial elections and the general ones. Everyone who is someone lives in Northside. So, the party's favouritism is transparent.

The other districts, Everton included, still aren't as developed as Northside. Even those loyal to the AFD, like Redbridge and Bex.

I'll admit, something about the serene, humble streets of Redbridge and Bex indicate that they're well looked after, but I cannot deny that Bex, especially, has a poor budget and unresolved issues. Mostly, because Northsiders are of the opinion that it, "needs to be handled carefully." (The word they're looking for is "controlled")

Controlled.

For a second, all I can see is a crowd of heads ducking close to the ground under the torrid sun. Their necks bent. Their hands clasping their ears shut in shock.

A shiver runs through me and I instinctively step backwards. A streak of sunlight pours in. At the same time, the door to my room swings open.

"We tried to delay this for you honey," My mother says, sympathetically.

Turning to look at her, I'm caught by surprise.

A uniformed man walks in and fixes the chair by my bedside. Inspector Johnson had met me the day after my surgery. When my mother insisted that he should come back later, he had politely excused himself.

"Ma'am, I just need you to answer a few questions. We can stop anytime you want." He meets my gaze with an icy demeanor, sitting down in an intimidating pose. The stars on his shoulders shine under the harsh hospital light.

I take a sip of water from the glass on my bedside table before sitting on my bed. My mouth feels dry. I make a fist to ease out the sudden rise of tension in my body.

"How have you been feeling?"

"Well, I've been better." I laugh nervously. "I'm getting discharged tomorrow, so I'm good."