of blood and lies ; dystopian

40

Past

"I swear, every time I smell smoke it's because of those damn cigarettes," J392 said.

I twirled the cigarette between my fingers and stared out at the lone playground ahead of me. I rolled my eyes, at his comment, and wrapped my lips back around the cigarette.

I didn't need to turn and see who stood behind me. I knew it was J392. He was a floating janitor; some were confined to a specific sector, but floaters, like J392, would travel from sector to sector. Depending on their need.

He was my favorite.

J392 was around sixteen years old, but I swore he had the heart of a sixty-year-old man.

I'd never seen his face. Given that he was ranked the lowest among The Blood, his entire identity had been stripped from him. All janitors had been stripped of it. They were forced to wear a mask that covered the entirety of their face and head.

I did the same to my soldiers. Though, my reasoning was to prevent our enemies from knowing who they fought.

"Nasty habit," I admitted. I looked down at the three spent buds.

J392 continued to sweep behind me. "You mind?"

The broom fell to the ground with a clink. He sat down close beside me, holding his hand out. I lit the end of a spare cigarette and passed it to him.

"Nasty habit, J392," I teased. I was around his age when I caught the habit.

I couldn't see his mouth but I felt his smile.

I wondered what had happened to him. If he was a janitor, at this young of an age, he had to have proven himself skilless. Janitors were usually old; and worn.

His fingers curled under his mask. I looked away, through from the corner of my eye I could see him pulling it over his mouth. It was considered awful manners to even show your lips if you were a janitor. The Blood would decapitate him if they knew of how disrespectful he was.

I didn't care anymore. I just wanted to be with Karro, free.

"Long day?" he asked.

"Something like that." I frowned and looked at my shoes.

It felt wrong. In common practice, we were not allowed to ask janitors of themselves. We could not ask how they were doing; we could not socialize with them, either.

"How was your day?" I continued.

J392 shrugged. I didn't know much about him. There wasn't much to know. All sense of self had been taken from him. He wasn't allowed to wed, impregnate, court, or sleep with another. If he picked up a hobby, besides mopping, his hands would be cut off.

I'd seen him once with a book; I turned my head the other way. The Blood would be too cruel to someone like him.

"It's been so tense here. Since, well, you know," J392 began. I tightened my jaw. He referred to the Murthaa with such ease. I felt like I was going to throw up.

A member of the Committee would be arriving soon.

I would die soon.

"Yeah." I reached into the pocket of my sweatshirt. I threw an assortment of plastic sticks at his feet. Seven, to be precise. Seven cruel reminders that I was not going to be the only one dying at the hands of the Committee.

I didn't want it to be true. Not now.

J382 gasped, softly.

I squinted at the playground, taking another pull of my cigarette. I didn't want to look at the sticks. I didn't want to remind myself of what brewed in my belly.

I'd been trying all day to imagine my own blood running around the playground.

I decided this place was too horrific to bring a child into. If I did, I would be a cruel, cruel mother.

"Holy shit. Congrats. You probably shouldn't be smoking that, though."

"Yeah," I said, bringing it to my lips. "Probably not."

It'd be best if I killed it now, before sentencing it to The Blood. I'd kill my child with my own hands if it meant not having it suffer here.

I needed to leave before we both died.

Karro wouldn't come with me. We fought too much now. He didn't love me how I loved him.

My throat pricked.

"I don't know how I am going to tell him." I wasn't sure if it would make it better or worse.

It had been so tense between us. Brutal. I was sure that I would return to our apartment and all of his belongings would be packed; no trace left of my love.

"Do what you just did. Throw the piss sticks at him."

I scoffed and shook my head. "He's a little more complicated."

"Forgive me if this is rude," J382 began, clearing his throat. "But, is it his? I have to ask."

If anyone else would have asked that question, I'd kill them.

Everyone knew by this point; they knew that the mission had taken a turn. Complications. I was too embarrassed to admit I was in love.

I nodded. "You know, I could have your head for asking such a question."

J382 laughed, leaning backward. "I know you could."

heheheheheheh what we thinkkkk