The Dome

Mistakes

Minski just lay in the air vent duct for a while, stunned. She was utterly, completely, stunned beyond words. The conversation that she had just heard was the only thought playing through her head on repeat.. After minutes had passed, Minski was able to start trying to make sense of the conversation. Had the Guardians created the illness? Had it come from outside of the Dome? And if it had, how? Questions were going through her head at impossible speeds, one after the other. She wished she could share this revelation with Silasque, but she couldn't. Not after their last conversation. A whole bunch of feelings, guilt, disappointment, disbelief, anger, churned within her. She didn't know which one to listen to.

...

That night, Silasque lay awake making bracelets. It brought her peace, something she hadn't felt in a while. Tomorrow she would go to find Minski and tell her about the 'Our History' book in the old lady's house. Even though what Minski said to her had really hurt, she knew she needed to tell her. And if neither of them could forgive each other... well, Silasque preferred not to think that far.

As she completed yet another bracelet, she realized she had made a mistake in the bracelet. Halfway through, there was a bump and the colors were in a different order than they were supposed to be in. Silasque debated going back and fixing it, but the more she looked at it, the more she felt like it was best the way it was. After all, that mistake made it unique, made it special.

Suddenly, a memory surfaced, one she'd tried hard to bury because it was still painful to think about. Silasque was almost finished with this beautiful bracelet, one she'd worked very hard on, when she realized she had made a mistake. Silasque had tried and tried to fix the mistake, but the more she tried, the worse it got. She had been disappointed and her father had told her that the mistake was part of all the hard work and care she had put into making the bracelet. He had told her not to think of it as a mistake, but rather as something that made the bracelet special. Silasque had crossed her arms and said she hated the mistake, that the mistake wasn't supposed to be there, and that the mistake was ugly, ruining the whole bracelet. It was her reaction every time her father had told her this over the years.

Now, Silasque realized she had come to embrace those mistakes. Maybe, thought Silasque, it was that little bump in everyone's lives and everyone that made everyone unique, just like in the bracelet.

The next morning, Silasque woke up bright and early. She quickly got dressed and brushed her teeth before heading out to find Minski. It wasn't until she was a couple of streets away from home before she realized she had no idea where Minski lived. So she turned and headed toward the People's Center. The People's Center was right next to the Square. It had all the information on everyone and it was basically the information center. Of course, certain information is not accessible by the public, and personal information is only accessible by those whose information it is.

When Silasque arrived at the People's Center, the automatic glass double doors opened for her and she stepped inside. A huge expanse of marble floor greeted her. There was a very long wooden desk straight ahead with grand marble staircases that curved inward toward the top on either side.

Silasque crossed the marble floor and avoided eye contact with the men and women behind the desk because if she didn't, she would want to greet them or smile at them and that was strictly prohibited, just like it was with the deliverers and many other workers.

There were ten or so other people there and Silasque walked over to where someone behind the desk was free.

"How may I help you today?" the woman behind the table didn't even spare her a glance as she typed something into her computer.

The woman had bright green eyes, making Silasque wonder why she had been given a job. Most people who had green eyes were taken in for experimentation. Apparently scientists were trying to develop different colors of eye pigment that can be put in your eye, per request of the Guardians.

"I need the house number of a girl named Minski," Silasque requested.

"There are two Minski's. I need her last name," the woman told Silasque, waiting for Silasque to give her a last name.

"I'm sorry, I don't know her last name. She has freckles across the bridge of her nose."

The woman sighed, clearly indicating that Silasque was making this difficult for her, "The house number of Minski Abeles is 1036. But at this time of day, she is at the Angel Library."

Silasque nodded, resisting the urge to thank the woman, then turned around and exited the building. Abeles. So that was Minski's last name. As Silasque turned the corner onto another street, she picked up the pace. The Angel Library wasn't that far, a ten or so minute walk from the People's Center.

As she got closer, Silasque could see the huge gate of the library, the words 'The Angel Library' carved and painted in gold in an arc from one end of the entrance to another. On either side of the tall double doors, stone angels held the doors open for people to enter.

Silasque hadn't been to the Angel Library in a good while and the sight of all the tall rows of bookshelves as she stepped inside still took her breath away. As she approached the small desk ahead of her, the librarian, an old lady with a cane and a hunched back, looked up from the book she was reading and smiled warmly at Silasque. However, she wasn't looking directly at Silasque and Silasque realized she was blind.

"How are you today and how may I help you?" the librarian asked. The plate on her desk read 'Prairie Smith.'

"I'm looking for Minski. Is she here?"

"She's in aisle eight on the left rearranging the books."

Silasque nodded, then realized Librarian Prairie couldn't see her, so she said, "Alright."

Silasque counted the aisles and sure enough, there was Minski, wearing a determined, focused expression as she took books out of a cart and placed them on the shelf in their designated spots.

"Hey," Silasque smiled awkwardly at Minski, "I have some things to tell you, about Maritha and all that stuff."

Minski looked up from the books, knocked out of her concentration from the sheer surprise of seeing Silasque, "Oh hi."

Silasque walked over to Minski and sat down next to where Minski was squatting on the floor with a book in her hand.

"So I paid a visit to the old lady next door to my house and she does know about Maritha. She knows her as the girl who disappeared."

That caught Minski's attention and she nodded for Silasque to go on.

"She basically told us what we already know. That she ran away. But I spotted a particular book on her bookshelf: 'Our History.'"

Silasque grinned at the look on Minski's face.

"No way," Minski breathed, looking around to make sure no one was close enough to hear them.

"Yeah," Silasque paused, "So you got the job of librarian?"

At that, the twinkle in Minski's eyes faded and she shifted uncomfortably, "Yeah, I guess so. I love reading, so I'm glad I got the job."

Silasque nodded and soon the silence stretched out between them, an awkward, unwanted silence.

"I guess...I should go," Silasque said, hesitant to leave.

"Yeah...I guess so," Minski gave a strained smile and deliberately looked down at the book in her hands, finding its correct place on the bookshelf.

Taking a shaky breath, Silasque got up and slowly walked away, feeling the wall between them grow thicker and thicker with each step she took.