Vial #127

Chapter 26: Annihilation of the Shadows

The endless white glow torments my mind, playing games with interpretations. I lay on my back in the middle of the room, staring at the ceiling. Suddenly, I notice a tiny movement, a tiny lens; meant to be hidden. I don't know whether to pretend that it's not there or to make a statement about it to prove my observations.

"You know I can see the camera," I say my voice cracking. I must prove my strength in this situation. It is key to not being driven mad. They must be watching me closely. Maybe if I'm good, they'll let me out. Maybe this is some sort of test to see if I'm safe to be around. After an eternity, a flap under the door opens and food is slid underneath.

There's a bottle of water next to a container of mixed vegetables and meat. I take the bottle, returning to the middle of the room, staring; my eyes fixated on the tiny lens.

"I know that someone is there, watching me," I make a conversation with the invisible person. "You know before your men took me in, I had a group, I actually saved two from an attack. Why am I here? What did I do?"

My voice is cut off by another coming through an intercom; "just be quiet." It's a young voice, female for sure, I can tell that she's amused with me from the tone.

I smile with myself for making her let her guard down. My muscles ache from lying still for so long. I get up and stretch. I used to do yoga. My limbs have grown tight through the deep change in the world but strong from the endless struggle.

Doing all these poses again makes me feel free, just as if I were at practice on a Saturday morning. There's only so much I can do in the cell and eventually I grow still.

Next I sing. It is a song with lyrics that just comes to mind. It's mysterious, yet pleasant at the same time.

Only my voice, in the shadow of night when the world is dark
only my thoughts, in the white of day when the world is light,
only myself in a world gone wrong,
only my voice is the sound heard long and far, only me to wander the earth as if falls apart, people against people, a war to start,
only my voice, in the deep of days when the world is lost,
only my thoughts, in the weight of the world as it goes,                                                                                               only myself to witness the end,only my voice, as it fades away,                                                                               the world going blank, the voice fading, the world fading,                                                                                         where have we gone?

My voice goes silent as I take in the daring cruelty of the world. My breathing reaches an even pace, I just sing the verses over and over until the door flies open. This time there's no armoured figure, just a man in a collared shirt and tie.

"Emma, come with me," I get up, following the figure back down the hall. Just as the door closes, I hear a shout coming from one of the cells. It's obviously someone from my group and I turn around to open the door but a code is required. I grip the handles, desperately swinging it around.

"You need to come with me, everything will be okay." Once we're outside of the cell-block, the building becomes modern, tall arches, complementary colours, angular furniture. The figure leads me to an office where there's a wooden desk with two chairs on either end. Behind it is a bookcase, stocked full. The man makes a gesture for me to take a seat in the chair. I do slowly and carefully, making sure that I do not miss anything.

"Well Emma, our tests have proved you safe," I look up, slightly confused but definitely outraged, "Why do you look so upset?"

"First, your men save me, then kidnap me and tie me up, then you put me in solitary confinement. Was there really no nicer way to prove my innocence?" I say in a snarl.

"This is the best we can do in the circumstances," he explains. "My name is Peter, I am the assistant head here at the base."

"What do you mean?" I question, confused by his words.

"The head is Eleanor. This is a camp for refugees we've got just over a hundred here with the new arrivals," he fills me in.

"You mean my friends, who are being kept in prison cells? Who would want to stay in this place?" I let out my anger, "Will you just throw them into the white cells; torment them for days just to prove their sanity. No one is going to act normal in jail cell," my heart is raging with anger now.

Peter's face remains calm, "I think you should come see something." He issues me into the hall and up a staircase. A pathway leads down; to one side is a railing looking over a massive room. "This is the atrium," he announces and I look down. To one side is dozens of tables next to a cafeteria. At the other end are beds. Plenty of them have been made but more are stripped clean, waiting for more wanderers to arrive, or maybe some have left this horrid place.

Down below there are people, acting norming, all look well fed and clean. My mind is blown that someone could make a safe haven like this in a world gone mad. "What is this place?" I say bewildered, my mind still trying to make sense of it all. Everyone in the Atrium looks up at me; their faces accepting and friendly and right in that instant, I actually feel safe.