Colourless

Chapter Two

With the opening of the train doors, my heart leapt into my throat. There was nowhere to run, to turn back; only forwards.

Aria gripped onto the hem of my cardigan, now fully awakened by the rowdy chatter around us. "Let's try not lose each other," she pleaded, fearfully hiking her bags higher onto her shoulder. "The ceremony is tonight, so we only have so much time to get to the hotel and—"

"It's fine, Tamaria," I interject to silence her ramblings, "We'll be okay. They do the test, we go home. Done. The only thing you need to worry about, is a needle."

Maneuvering through the platform with educated ease, soon Aria and I emerged onto the familiar streets. It was early afternoon, the sky morphing from grey to a rosy hue, and the damp air was stained with petrichor.

Our arms became linked as Aria and I carefully made our way to the small hotel our parents had booked for the night, unwillingly falling under curious eyes as we whispered to one another.

It was no surprise that people had flocked onto the streets, attempting to catch a glance of the latest 'batch'. It was animalistic; the hunger in their eyes. They had been the lucky ones, the yellow blooded — prompting them to warrant the finest things in life.

Aria tugs on my sleeve to capture my wandering attention, "I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight."

"You always say that," I chuckle playfully, attempting to lighten the mood, "And then you're out like a light... traitor." Aria laughs softly, squeezing my arm in a silent nod of thanks as we arrive outside of the hotel.

Stepping inside, I was immediately greeted with my tired reflection in the polished, golden fixtures that littered every inch of the entrance foyer. "Is this not intimidating to you?" Aria murmured, shuffling closer.

"Darling, if a hotel intimidates you, I'm surprised you're not unconscious already—" I drag her towards the reception desk— "You do know that our entire future will be decided tonight, right?"

"Jeez, thanks, Pearl," Aria grumbles, "Really inspiring."

***

Exchanging my cardigan for a black coat, the thick material flourishes around my ankles as I whirl around the room. "Tamaria, come on!" I gather my purse, ready to text my mother as soon as the tests were over.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Aria stumbles out of the bathroom, wearing a single shoe and running a brush through her strawberry-blonde tresses.

Waiting by the door, Aria eventually stumbled after me; shivering as we emerged into the cold, winter night. Following the directions my mother had sent me the day before, we soon arrived at a rather imposing edifice.

Stepping inside, the receptionist — a middle-aged, blonde woman with yellow-tinged cheeks — snapped her head upright. She silently gestured down the hall, as though too ashamed to speak, murmuring to go to floor six. We nodded, taking deliberately slow steps towards the elevator.

"It's okay, right?" Aria whispered as we filed inside, early enough to beat most of the rush. I merely nodded and offered a reassuring smile. "Of course," I whisper, inhaling sharply as the doors open, "But, if I faint..."

"I'll catch you," Aria promises, taking to following behind me as we step out of the elevator and into a long hallway that could only be described as depressing.

Numerous people, from all walks of life, were slumped in thinly padded chairs. It was like a hospital waiting room — with the same sort of silence and clinicalness hanging overhead. 

We take a seat at the very end, hoping to stall as long as possible for Aria's sake.

"This is awful," she murmurs finally, "How they can just witness this is beyond me." Humming in agreement as the last few people begin to trickle in, an imposing, older man then takes his place by the elevators just as the wall-mounted speakers screech to life.

"Hello, everyone. This is your First Lady, Louisa Holloway." The staticy voice was poised, feminine. Almost too pure to be announcing such a devastating event.

"Some of you will leave here today as great, bright visions of the future, others... well, anyway."

Suddenly, a hand snagging my arm droned out the woman's voice as she rambled on. I blinked in surprise, scanning my eyes over Malik's heavily panting form. "Malik?" I whisper, "What the hell?"

"You have to come with me," he states urgently, tugging on my coat.

"What... Malik, what the hell are you talking about?" I hiss, noticing the gaze of the security guard. "Sit down."

"Please," Malik whispers, "It's urgent. Just... follow me to the bathroom."

"That's not creepy at all," I retort, chuckling humorlessly. "Now, go sit down."

"Who is he?" Aria whispers in my other ear, eyeing the man, "You know him?"

"Please," Malik repeats, his green eyes boring into mine until I sigh relentingly.

"Aria, would you be alright if we ducked into the bathroom for a moment? I think my friend's just a little nervous." Aria smiles, waving us off, and I immediately rise to my feet.

"Catch me," I murmur, before immediately falling back into Malik's chest. Luckily, he caught on quickly and wrapped my arm around his shoulders — prompting me to lull my head forward. "Man, my girlfriend, she's really sick," I hear Malik mutter to the security guard, before an unfamiliar voice grumbles to take me down the hall.

Finally inside of the bathroom, I immediately stand upright and shove Malik away from me. "What is it?" I hiss, "I have to get back to Aria."

He stares at me with wide eyes, "We have to go."

"What?"

He gestures towards the bathroom window, "Out there. We have to go out there."

"Oh, of course, why didn't you say that before?" I scoff, "I'm totally cool with launching myself out of a six-story-high window."

"You don't understand," Malik hisses, "It is imperative for both your, and my, safety that we leave right now."

"Okay, look, it was lovely meeting you, really," I smile sarcastically, "But I think our acquaintanceship ends here."

"Please, Pearl, just listen to me—"

"No, I'm going back inside— holy shit, is that a knife?!"

"Pearl, just listen— I just need you to trust me." The switchblade glints under the bathroom light as he reaches out, snagging my wrist in his grasp.

"Let me go, you freak!" In an attempt to free myself from his grasp, I feel the blade accidentally slice through the skin on the back of my hand. "Shit," I curse, bringing the wound closer to my eyes. Staring at the wound, my eyes widen. "Holy shit."

"I'm right, aren't I?" Malik whispers, "First your grandmother, then your sister and now you."

I blink in confusion, horrified by the blood escaping the small nick in my skin. "What— what does it mean. My blood, it's—"

"Clear," Malik nods, "It's colourless."

___

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