Dire {h.s.}

7

Ava Manakova

Two weeks, fourteen days, thirteen nights, thirteen mornings, and all have been an estimated recollection of hours by a single clock that ticks tauntingly on the wall. The longer I stare at it, the more it pisses me off. The girls have gone through their routines with me, and it's easy to learn. We live by that clock. Sleep in till nine, breakfast at nine-thirty. Laundry, cleaning, and other chores are done by eleven. At one, we eat lunch, which consists of a slice of bread with jam smeared over it. It's a dry and distasteful thing, but I have no other option. After lunch, we do what we want. I personally choose to read. There's no television down here, not that I'd expect one. We're only provided with books as our only source of entertainment. Some of the girls who find reading boring, chose to play board games with each other, even if there is only one board game down here. By night, nine to be specific, we all start to get ready for bed. Showers, brushing teeth and hair, pajamas, then sleeping. Its a routine Ive been forced to learn, and its hard to get used to. Its been horrible to get used to. Its more than easy to get lost down here. Time has always been short for me, especially in moments where I enjoy life. Now, time is long and dreadful, and all I want is for the day to be over. All I want to do is sleep, because in my dreams, I know Im living the life I once used to have. The calm and peaceful one, where nobody would dare to hurt me. The one where I got to see my family and friends, and know I'm safe. I was happy and excited about life. Now, I live in fear of what's next.

I pull my hair into a loose bun that sits low enough to touch the back of my neck. I make sure to tuck a few strands of hair out from the sides to frame my face. Not that it matters anyway, nobody sees me, and there's nobody to look decent for. My outfit consists of nothing exciting. A top that I've worn over and over again from the night I've been taken, and the jeans shorts I wore. Jade insists on washing it every two days, knowing it's one out of three outfits I have to wear. Most of the girls were what they did during their captures. It sounds awful, but what else are we supposed to wear?

They haven't checked up on us since I was brought here. Jade says it's normal for them to abandon us for a few weeks. Alone, with no escape or way to get what we need to survive. I've noticed how we're all beginning to slow down with eating. Our meals have recently been served half their normal portion. Some have been taking a shower every other day to save on product.

"Jade," I say, approaching her as she stands by the bookshelf, picking out something new to read. I have to admit, there are a few selections to choose from.

She hums in response, sliding her finger across every book's spine as she decides through her mind. She tucks a strand of her behind her ear as she scans her eyes across them, fully concentrated on making the decision as if it's a big one.

"Remember when you mentioned that we're low on supplies..."

"I remember."

I clear my throat, I'm nervous. Why am I so nervous?

"Well... do you know when we'll get more?" I ask.

Her focus draws up and away from the books and to me. With worried eyes, she drops her eye contact and stares down at the floor for a moment before meeting me again. "I don't know..." she shakes her head, "none of us know."

"So are we just supposed to live down here and ration until we lose everything we have?" I ask, concerned.

She nods, "we've done it before, it's nothing new."

I've always had the luxury of never worrying about where my meal will come from, and an endless supply of necessities. Now, I have to teach myself the complete opposite end of the scale. Rationing has never been a part of my life, but I have no choice unless I want to live with nothing until our next batch of supplies gets dropped in. They're sick for doing this to us. Forcing us to survive on what they give us, with no way of letting them know if we need more.