Risk ➸ Simon

Chapter 6: Reckoning

Someone battered at the doorway, making you jump in astonishment. You sprang to your feet and open it to find an unfamiliar woman whose neck was marked with tattoos. "I'm Laura. The one who brought you the clothes." she started. "I'm here to assist your first day on the factory floor."

You purse your lips as a wave of reality washes over you. No more playing the sickling. No more caretakers. No more Simon looking after you. Literal work had to be done. But maybe that's just what you needed; feeling useful. You gave the woman in front of you a reassuring nod.

"Meet me down by the stairs in five minutes," she spoke before walking off.

You began to get ready. Submerged in a pile of laundry, you found a pair of faded jeans and a slightly gray t-shirt, which you could only imagine being white some time ago. As you change outfits you wondered what a day in the factory would be like. You've only seen it at a distance. You thought if it would be hot or easy-going, possibly painstaking? Either way, you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

***

Laura showed you around the warehouse. It was like a vast sea of bodies who were crammed too closely together. You contemplate if becoming one of Negan's wives could have been a more prominent route, but deep down you knew this was seemingly the only option. You'd be slowly killing yourself if you sat in a room all day, just waiting to have sex with Negan. Working akin to this would please you more than offering the leader a different kind of pleasure.

Once the little tour was over with, Laura informed you of one last detail before trailing off again. "Some days we have a thing called Points Day, where you're allowed to buy supplies and whatnot. Points are like money. You earn them for your work and spend them on items. I'm gonna be generous and give you ten points, just to start ya off since you're new. One day next week you'll get the chance to buy any essentials you need."

You thanked her for the friendly endeavor prior to disappearing within the enormous crowd. From this moment forward you were on your own. You had money, a room, and even a job. You're to stay on track and focus on what needs to be done for the remainder of the time.

***

Your first day was spent indoors, perceiving others while you job shadowed. Except you were treated more like a slave/maid because with each encounter, you were either fetching goods or cleaning up disarray for anyone who'd solicitation your aid. You had to learn every chore before being assigned one; not knowing which you'd attribute yet. It was tough to keep up with, but you managed a handful of information: from learning how floors were kept, to observing gardeners at a remote purview.

Outside, even through the shut window-pane, the world looked cooler than it was inside the warehouse. Down in the terrace little fluxes of wind were whirling dust into spirals, and though the sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no color in anything, except the vapid walls that encompassed everywhere. The chain-link fence face gazed down from every commanding corner in sight. It indeed felt like a prison.

Losing track of the time you fail to notice the sun sinking beyond the horizon. People in groups left and head to the first-floor dormitories. You felt serendipitous to live on the upper levels where higher ranks dwelled. For you didn't have to mosey onto a cot or doze atop a foul featherbed like the rest of the workers.

At the end of the day, you were exhausted from tending others assistance and yearned for another shower. Along the familiar trek to your room, you had to pass several avenues. The corridor to the factory workers smelled of unholy entities. The stairwells stank of moldering wood and rat droppings, the kitchens of spoiled cabbage and mutton fat; the unaired parlors stank of stale dust, the bedrooms of greasy sheets, damp mattresses, and the horrid aroma of chamber pots. It nearly caused you to hurl, but you only sizzed an icky dry-heave.

Finally arriving at your residence, you immediately strip from the undesirable clothes which you wore and entered the shower. Once more it felt delightful to enjoy the febrile water wash away the filth that ambled you. To be alone after a hellish day was very relieving and blissfully mind-numbing. Soon you were refreshed and feeling more like yourself than ever. You wished to ease into a slumber; forgetting about the terrible experiences you encountered from earlier.

***

Three weeks pass of endless work inside the factory. Your first job is a janitor, you conducted mopping and waxing numerous hallways and even personal rooms. Your liability would vary depending on what mood your 'working boss' was in. The second job you operated was in the kitchen, scrubbing away at dishes for many hours until your fingertips were pruned and sore. The luckiest and most recent job you had was gardening. You loved being able to take in the summer air and feel the warmth from the sun.

As these weeks slowly flew by, you recalled catching peeks of Simon every-now-and-then when he would check on the workers. In total, you saw him maybe two to three times a day, but only for quick glimpses. The thing that bothered you about this recurring event were the moments you both would make eye contact.

You'd feel a minor flutter in your stomach. Once in sight, Simon could manufacture an unidentifiable emotion within you. How could someone you hate before cause you to feel this way? A new unforeseen desire? You had no clue what this was, but you tried burying the feeling deeper each time he lingered in your presence.

Not even aware of the big day which will take place tomorrow, you laid in bed with an excruciating migraine; gathering many thoughts about Simon.