“Now?” Richard exclaimed, his tone that of mild uncertainty.

Kris nodded, “Yes, I haven’t seen the girl in a while, so why not? Take us to her now.”

He frowned, “But how? I don’t think I can manage it now, it’s the night shift, the security is multiplied at the moment.”

She sighed, “I don’t know,” she said, caressing her forehead. That headache made it feel as if her head were in a hydraulic press. “Just figure it out, all right, it’s your only way to gain our trust.”

His jaw clenched, and Vienna held on tight to his hand in reassurance.

“Okay, okay, tomorrow morning, it is then. I’ll come fetch you for her before the second batch of guards are assigned their positions.”

Kris nodded, but he didn’t see it as his gaze almost too quickly turned to his sister, and after a loving pat on her cheek, he smiled and left the cell.

But then it hit Kris, and she felt stupid for not inquiring about such a mundane thing while the man was there in the cell. However she rolled her eyes and half strode – half ran to the metal door and yelled, “Hey, hey, wait there!” which, she realised, wasn’t loud enough as his retreating back disappeared into the distance, she couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment.

“What was that for?” Charlie asked.

She shrugged, “Toilets,” she curtly said, stepping away from the entrance.

“Oh,” was all he gave out in response but a second later she heard a snicker around the corner and shook her head.

“Damn it, Cory! Will you ever grow up?.” She muttered, which only intensified the mockery.

Purposeful steps.

A knock, and then a hoarse voice. “What’s all the yelling for, kid?”

Kris’s startlement was soon washed out by her mild annoyance at being called a kid at 24.

“Can I go to the toilets?”

A second passed in silence, and then a grunt on the other side.

“Can’t you wait till morning?” his tone implied how careless he is about feigning his annoyance.

“Well,” Kris started, her anger at everything that happened that day boiling up at this very silly moment, “whether it’s an emergency or not, it my right to be shown to the toilets whenever I demand it according to statement 143 regarding prisoners in the constitution, am I right?” she waited, but the only response she got was another grunt, so she continued, “You don’t want me filing a report against you and having you exiled, do you?”

“Jesus, calm down, woman.” The keys crackled and fit into the the lock and the door was pushed open to reveal a sleepy irritated soldier.

She couldn’t help but flash a sly winning smile at his sight.

“I thought not,” she muttered under her breath.

“Just shut up and follow me,” he spit at his shoulder as he started down the hallway. Kris hurried to catch up with him.

The hallway was dark and shadowed, the only illumination that guided them was the soldier’s fist sized torch that set the white tiles in an eerie glow.

Their footsteps vibrated and clunk beneath their feet, the quietness violated by their consistent intake of breath. A door on her right and a door on her left, an odd sense sprang from each closed cell. Kris didn’t see walls or doors, or metal and tiles, Kris heard, no, felt the agony behind those bars, the quiet itching to spring free. The silence they walked in was neither peaceful nor refreshing, nor was it what once made her stare at the starry sky out of her tent at 2 AM, not even close. She realized with a sinking feeling, as he led her into the water closet and shut the door on her, as she stared in the mirror in the lowly ignited darkness, that sometimes, just sometimes, silence isn’t at all quiet.

She could tell, because the unheard screams of the walls were enough proof.

______________________________________

“What?”  Asli asked Veronica who’d been staring at her with her narrowed green eyes as if her head was growing magical unicorns.

The girl let out a grunt before turning a round and running back along the length of the hallway.

“Veronica?” Asli yelled across the living room even though the girl was already gone, her response came in a shuffling sound as if she’s rocking the drawers looking for something.

Asli sighed. She’d woken up early, taken a shower and got dressed back in her burrowed outfit for the shopping spree her friend promised, but as soon as she saw her, her expression shifted to some sort of vague realization, and it made Asli’s head run in circles.

Veronica was back, half walking half running across the room to where Asli stood, a small fancy glass container in her hand.

“Here, apply this.” She said, placing it in her right hand.

Skeptical, Asli stared back at her slightly disoriented glare. “What exactly is that?”

“Foundation”

Asli raised an eyebrow, “And you want me to put that on because... ?

Veronica rubbed her forehead and her eyes gave off an air of guilt and dilemma.

At last, she took a breath and said it.
“Your complexion is darker than pallids, I don’t want you getting caught. There are security cameras everywhere, and skin colour checks at every mall and shopping centre. I tho-.”

“You thought I should rub that foundation all over my skin and change how I look.” She continued for her.

Veronica shook her head, “No, I thought it better to disguise you than lose you, Asli. We need you for the revolution to happen. Apply it once to stop the fear that leads to applying it.”

Asli stared at the fancy glass object in her hand. Was this what they’ve come to? Changing their skin for acceptance? For freedom, services, and shelter? Did the Separators really think her wheat like skin was less worthy, if not worthy at all, just because it wasn’t milky white? If so, what are the factors, or the factor if there’s any? In that hazy foggy moment, Asli had realised that in all her years of poverty, chaos, and hunger, this experience was the most humiliating.

Her eyes stinging from her fight against tears, she nodded and slowly made her way to the washroom.

___________________________________

“What’s taking you so long, woman? Get the hell out of there!”

Kris rolled her eyes, that sleepy man was a headache.

Quickly, she washed her hands and dried them out before turning the knob and stepping out into the hallway.

“Well, it’s about time,” he said upon seeing her.

“Just take me back to the cell, will you?” she spit at him, at which he let out a grunt and took the lead ahead of her.

She fixed her eyes on her lazy boots as they scrubbed the tiles or tapped them, ending in echoing vibrations that bounced off the walls. The air was thick, which was something she hadn’t noticed the first time she made her way through this corridor.

But then came a whisper. It was so faint and inaudible, regardless of which, it still sent her stumbling a few steps ahead.

“Haven’t your parents taught you how to walk?” the gaurd mocked.

Kris could feel fire burning in her chest, the sting after the reopening of a wound, but before she could give a comeback, the response came from the darkness on her right.

“Last time she saw her parents, they were dead.”

She was startled, spinning to the side and freezing in place the moment the ever so familiar figure stepped out of the dark doorway.

“Mike,” she spit out the name in bitter loathing.

With a smirk and a hard cold glare not leaving her eyes, he started addressing the gaurd, “Leave us alone, Michael, I’ll sort it out from here.”

A nod and a salute later, and the grumpy soldier was gone.

“You,” she hissed, pointing her index finger at his chest. “How dare you look me in the eye after your treachery? How dare you lock us all here? How dare you mock my parents’ death? What kind of blood are you made from? Who the heck a-”

His palm was on her mouth, silencing her slightest breath. With her back violently slammed against the wall, his eyes  sharp into her widened ones, he tilted his head.

“Now listen up to me, Kris,” he started, his tone that of intense anger, “I’ve always listened to your useless gibberish and now it’s time to lend me an ear, okay? I killed Stella, all right, or Evran, whatever her name is, and I’ve been meant to send all your updates to the Separation government, but two years years after joining you, I couldn’t anymore. Do you know why? Have you got the slightest idea why?”

He was yelling now, his palm unconsciously pressing harder at her mouth. Kris’s heart couldn’t beat any faster.

With a hint of some craze mixed with despair, he said, “Because I fell for you, Kris, I fell hard. I could see the way you trusted me, how it warmed my cold given up heart, and I didn’t want to lose that, ever.”

Kris couldn’t shed away the feeling of disgust gnawing at her insides. She bit at his palm which made him only cringe and press harder against her mouth. Her anger was building, and everything seemed hazy in her mind, except the dying urge to be anywhere but that close to him.

He proceeded, his tone shifting from high to low, “What? Are you not convinced? Are you denying my love? See, that’s exactly why I did what I did, your Muslim friend just made it clearer to me when she came. You never trusted me or believed in me enough, you always put your selfish demands first. I told you, Kris, remember? I told you let’s start a new life in the centre of Pallid together, that I’ll make sure you’re happy every single day. But what did you say? ‘Not until it isn’t Pallid anymore but the continent of Europe’. You shattered my dreams of us in a cold second, now tell me who’s the real monster?”

Kris bit the inside of his palm harder and pushed at his chest, fighting to get out of his hold. At last, he pulled back his hand and stepped back, cringing in pain. She took a breath and stepped away from the wall, if anything, she wouldn’t let him pin her that way again.

“You filthy jerk of a bastard!” she cursed out, “What could you ever know about love?” Her eyes were stinging now, the memory of her parents’ hanging raw and stabbing.

He simply stared at her, surprisingly taken aback by her response.

“It’s my fault, you know,” she proceeded, “there’d been red flags all the way and I’d ignored them, I shouldn’t have. I should’ve just slashed your neck at the first hint of suspicion. I can’t believe I trusted you one day.”

And with that being said, she turned and stomped off in the opposite direction, her heart heavy as lead.