Useful (Lesbian Story)

Chapter 6

I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT

USUALLY MY CHAPTERS ARE A FEW PAGES BUT THIS CHAPTER IS ONLY TWO

I'M SORRY TO ANYONE WHO'S DISAPPOINTED

I'LL BE UPDATING A LONGER ONE ASAP

HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO YOU ALL AND THANK YOU OR THIS WRITING EXPERIENCE YOU'VE GIVEN ME SO FAR

Songs that inspired this chapter: "Flume," "Lump Sum," "Skinny Love," and "The Wolves (Act I and II)"  by Bon Iver

When we were let out of our work rooms, a new voice came on over the loudspeaker.

"It is now 11:00 at night. If you have read the laws you are expected to abide by, you know that you are to sleep at 12:00 am and wake at 4:00 am. You will have exactly one hour to eat dinner, which will be brought to you in your assigned rooms, and get ready for the designated sleep hours. You are now dismissed."

Everyone started to move along, which proved again to be difficult. But, now that everyone was used to the crampedness and difficulty when it came to moving, we got ourselves sorted even quicker. I was walking down the hall to my room in a matter of about 15 minutes.

When I saw Arabella waiting by the door, a weight lifted off my shoulders.

"What're you looking at, Numbers?" she asked in a teasing manner.

"I was...just...worried about you," I replied, my voice weak and tired. "They took a lot of people to be tortured today. I didn't want that to be you. Cuz, you're, like, my friend. I hope."

"Thanks, Numbers," Arabella replied. "Yep. I survived. I'm doing okay. I'm glad to see you have, too."

I smiled slightly. "Where's Minal?"

"In the room. Come on in."

I followed her back inside, where Minal sat, wringing her hands. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her lip shook. She looked traumatized.

"Rough day?" I asked her carefully.

"Yeah..." Minal said vaguely, her voice trailing off. "I'm...I'm...I'm..."

"She works in politics, and being constantly surrounded by scary, demanding aliens unsettles her. Makes her feel unsafe," Arabella explained.

Minal nodded, swallowing hard. "Th-thanks, Arabella."

Arabella patted her shoulder in sympathy.

There was a knock at our door, and I got up the courage to answer it. My feet dragged the rest of my being towards the door, where my hands forced myself to open it.

There was no one there, thankfully. Just three trays with small portions of what was meant to be food.

"Bon appetit," I muttered, and motioned for my roommates to come retrieve their meals.

We sat on the edge of our two beds, eating the brittle, stale food provided to us. We spoke softly.

"Anything interesting happen today?" Arabella questioned.

"I just did a lot of math," I said, deciding not to include the discovery of the choir girl's tattoo. I wondered if she actually was watching over me. "They put me in the field of foreign relations."

"Interesting," Arabella replied. "I had to recite eighteen different monologues."

"I had to have a conversation with Lord Torken," Minal whispered.

Arabella and I looked at her immediately, in shock. "What?" I asked.

"I had to have a conversation with Lord Torken. He smells like garlic."

"They really did torture you, didn't they," Arabella remarked in a hushed tone.

Minal nodded.

"You should get some rest," I decided. "If you have to go back to that kind of horrible thing tomorrow, then you should at least give yourself a break."

We finished our meals in silence and piled our trays in a corner. I crawled into my bed, and Arabella and Minal into the other. They were asleep in minutes.

For me, it took longer. My overactive mind wouldn't shut off.

What would the next day be like?

The next week?

The next month?

The next year?

We couldn't be here longer than a year. It didn't seem possible.

This couldn't last long. Someday, I'd get back to my home, my school, my few friends. I'd see my mom's garden, Ted's bedroom, my posters plastered all along the wall. The picture of my parents on their wedding day. My stuffed zebra I'd had since I was five, eloquently named Stripey. The flowers Mom always had sitting on the dinner table, whether they were lilies or roses or just dandelions. Dad's study, where he kept all his business papers and file cabinets that I never bothered to venture into, to understand. Mum's Beatles records. Ted's A+ papers on the refrigerator, alongside the family photos and recipes Mom planned to cook.

But I shook my head. Dad was gone. Ted was gone. Mom was on her way.

I had no way home. 

I was a prisoner.

This was a curse.

This was a trick. A trap.

My fate was in their hands,and I had no conrol over my life anymore.

It was a game.

We were dolls in a dollhouse. Forced to play.