Behind the fence

Chapter one

When I open my eyes, the dream haunts my waking thoughts. No. It's not a dream. It is a nightmare. A nightmare I lived seven years ago. My sister Enyah stirs a bit beside me. Even though she was only three at the time - two years younger than myself - I know the memory is as much vivid as it is in my mind. 

"Ahhh" she screams, bolting upright. "Ennie" I whisper, "is it the nightmare again?" 

"No" her voice is barely audible, "a different one"

"What of" I question, stroking a loose strand of her shiny chestnut hair from her eyes.

"Of today"

Her words registered, the execution of Baylee Hills is today. Of Baylee Hills, my sisters best friend. She really isn't bad, I even liked her, and that's certainly saying a lot. She just got caught hunting in the woods like so many other people do. Probably checked her sack after she ducked under the fence. 

"Oh Ennie, I'm sure..." actually, what am I sure? Nothing. I just wrap my arms tightly around. We cling for a long time. Only when I see the dim rays of dawn creeping through the cracks of the boarded windows of our shack, do I make a move to get up. 

"I'm going to go hunting now, before the execution" I whisper in her ear. 

Her body tenses under my arms, "no" she whimpers, "don't go into those woods ever again!" 

I know she has some point, but what other choice am I left with when our family has next to no money, and are slowly starving to death? 

"I have to, Ennie"

"No" she pleads, "we can live without it for a while" even I can see how much see is trying to sound convincing, we both know I have to do this. I try a different approach.

"But what about the other family's that rely on my catches, what happens to them then?" 

"I suppose" she whispers eventually. The thought of other people starving or suffering always makes her agree, or disagree for that matter.  

"But be careful, okay" Her emerald eyes look up at me worryingly.

"Okay" I murmur.

I walk over to a small stack of four boxes, each about 12 x7 inches wide and 5 inches deep. I take the  bottom one and lift off the lid, reveling my few positions. I pull out my grandmothers hinged mirror compact, and look at the person staring back at me.

"Your hair sure needs a brush" Enyah smirks from our shared single bed. 

I just chuckle. "I suppose my mustache does to" I say jokingly, as if I have a mustache!

"You should brush dads mustache" she giggles.

"Mustache? it's not a mustache, it's a beard, and it doesn't need you two brushing it you know"

It's my dad. We just laugh cause we know he's still half asleep, and sleeping in because it's a day off for all the factory workers, because of the execution. 

I replace the lid on my box, pull on my jacket and boots, and walk out into the crisp, dawn air filled with birdsong.

I walk along the reasonable 2km walk to the break in the fence, filled with the reassurance that most of the hierarchy defenders - the black guards from my nightmares -  will be occupied with the upcoming execution, but I casually look around, just in case. 

When I get there, I take a long piece of grass and hold it onto the wire for a few moments, just to make sure it isn't electrified today. Satisfied with no buzz, I slip under the fence, and run into the forest.