of blood and lies ; dystopian

7

Present

I sat quietly on the edge of my bed.

I watched Karro sleep. He looked peaceful. Way too peaceful. His lips were parted and his face was pointed in my direction. The bed beneath him was beginning to concave. It resembled a cot, with a flimsy twinsized mattress. The pillows reminded me of the thin pillows they would hand out on airplanes, as well as the blanket.

Shortly after Karro had fallen asleep, I fell into my head, recalling what we had been.

Karro had every right to be angry. I'd lied to him; I'd presented myself as a lie, and kept with the lie like it was my dying wish.

My face tensed. He was as much my karma as I was his.

Squeak.

I jerked my head toward the door. It sounded as if metal were scraping against metal. The slit in the door opened, for a moment, and a small tray of something slit through the door, collapsing onto the floor with a soft thud.

I stood up, rushing toward the door. By that point, the flap was already sealed shut.

I looked to my feet, where the small tray lay.

In my hell, I'd survived off the wildlife. However, hunting was harder than it seemed in such scarce terrain.

What had just been pushed through the door was something I would kill for.

Food.

Real fucking food. Not roaches, nor plants. Food.

I lunged to the floor, kneeling beside the tray. I first pushed at the flap to see if it would open, but it was solid in place. I noticed the small keyhole in the center of the flap. I squinted into it, trying to see out, but all I saw was metal.

I looked back to Karro. He was unmoving, sleeping quietly a few feet from me. If Karro did not kill me in this room, the silence and boredom might do it. I'd been alone with my thoughts for too long. I would go insane if it was the same here.

The tray in front of me was filled with plastic pouches. My stomach turned. It was the same as how The Blood had given out food and drinks in the cafeteria of our sector. Was this why he believed I was behind this? He believed it was The Blood. It couldn't be The Blood, this was unlike them.

There were three plastic pouches filled with water, a pouch full of what appeared to be chips, a pouch filled with dried berries, a bar of soap, and three pouches of dark liquid. I scrunched my brows, reaching for the last pouch.

The pouch was filled with white, chalky balls. The toothpaste smeared against the plastic pouch.

Toothpaste balls. I hadn't seen them in ages. I'd always used a brush and tube like Man did, but I knew The Blood was accustomed to them.

It couldn't be The Blood. Confinement and imprisonment were for Man; The Blood tortured those who needed to be punished and made a spectacle of it.

I opened the bag of chips, pouring half of them into my mouth. My eyes fluttered shut and my mouth began to salivate. My stomach ached as soon as I swallowed, but it was worth it. I hadn't eaten this type of food in years. I never believed I'd be given the option to eat real food again.

Even if I was stuck in this room, with him, I was grateful.

I reached for the dried fruit next.

I looked up at Karro. It was the last bit of food available. I didn't know when the next tray would arrive, or if it even would. Was he hungry?

He could starve.

I opened the bag and started at the fruit. I chewed it in slow, savoring bites. I shut my eyes, suppressing the groan I was going to let out. Fuck, I'd forgotten how good food tasted compared to my foraging.

I reached for one of the water pouches. I gulped it in between chews. It tasted so pure and cold. The water was almost as good as the food.

I kept my gaze on the door, alternating between eating the fruit and chugging the water. I pushed at the metal flap to see if it would bulge; however, it proved to be secure again. There was no door handle nor indication on the floor that the door had been swung open.

Did the door not open?

I wanted to ask Karro, though I wouldn't be able to bring myself to speak. Let alone ask him something. I needed to ask him about the door, and the window in the ceiling. Maybe even the metal in the bathroom; had he checked for loose metal, and tried to stab the person sending the tray?

"Very generous of you to save me food."

I scrunched my nose and continued to eat said food. His knees were pulled to his chest, and his head tilted downward as he stared at me.

I noticed more pouches beneath his cot. There was a surplus of the pouches, though most were the dark liquid I had yet to touch. My mouth watered at the sight of more chips, fruit, sandwiches, and goldfish. Was he saving the food until starvation?

There were empty metal strays stacked neatly in the corner beside his cot. It was not nearly enough for 'fifty years'. He had to be lying.

"Starve," I replied, eating the last berry with a smile.

Karro reached for a pouch of dark liquid. I did not stop him. He tore the bag with his teeth, the smell of alcohol circulating through the room.

"I think this is all amusing," Karro began. I watched him work at the alcohol, drinking it all without a flinch. "You're real personality I mean. If I were a downright bitch, I would also live a new identity."

I looked to the door, grinding my teeth together. The words shot through my skin, piercing an area only he could. I did not speak.

"You know what else I think?" Karro tossed the trash in my direction. "I think they've sent you here to torture me. I believe they got you out of that place and you conspired with them. To get one last fuck you in."

I laughed.

Karro shifted, bracing his elbows on his thighs. I stared at him with a gaze so cold only a sane man would cower. Karro, though, did not.

I ran a hand down my face. "Use your brain for two fucking seconds, Karro. I do not want to see you. I do not want to be here. I want nothing to do with The Blood. Besides, this is not The Blood. Not their style."

"Right, because you apparently know them so well," Karro snapped.

I stared up at him, running my tongue across my teeth.

We'd never been able to talk about it. Karro didn't give me a chance. I supposed this was my opportunity to explain myself, and how I did not want to be that person. That I did not want to lie to him, toward the end. That I was trying to leave, for him.

But, he was not worth my breath. I stayed silent.

I wondered if he still saw his lover when he looked at me. I didn't see it in him. I felt the pain of love, but I did not see something I had. We were strangers now. 

what we thinking???

questions you have? you should have some:)