a book of shots | tbn one shot collection

THE FOOL

Laces couldn't remember the last time she'd felt even remotely content.

She was starved for sunlight as much as she was for food. The Refuge didn't provide much of either. In her best moments, she stared blankly at the dreary walls, which only stared back. In her worst, she cried silently to herself and tried her hardest to fall back into a pale imitation of sleep.

A sudden clang forced her attention away from the foul smelling walls—today, thankfully, wasn't unbearable. Her head whipped toward the now-locked entrance, where a young girl, bloodied and petrified, stood. New.

She slowly examined her surroundings, tears dripping down her cheeks. No one moved to greet her. Wasn't much point, Laces knew as much. Why should they make such a bleak place appear any more friendly than it clearly was not? Still, new kids were relatively rare, although not as rare as the occasional meal. And of course, by that, she meant leftover scraps thrown in by Snyder for them to fight over like the animals he believed they were.

The little girl soon figured out that she was truly alone in this strange new place. Swiping her dirty sleeves beneath her eyes in an attempt to dry her tears, she slumped and sulked over to the far wall, where she sat and pulled her small knees up to her chin.

Laces tried not to break. She didn't know this girl. The girl didn't know her. She wouldn't be paying her any favours by showing her a bit of hospitality. But seeing her little face, those big, sad eyes...

Laces stood slowly and made her way over, crouching down before the girl. She hoped her wince wasn't apparent to the child. "What's yer name?"

The little girl looked up, hope flooding those poor eyes. Hope for a companion in this lonely place. "Gracie. I'm a factory worker."

"Hi, Gracie, Ise Laces," she replied, smiling slightly, feeling her lips crack as she did so. "A newsie, myself. Well... before now. Where did you come from?"

"Woodside," Gracie mumbled tearfully, looking away.

Feeling faint, Laces sat, pushing herself against the wall next to the small girl. "Woodside's nice. You like it?"

Gracie nodded, suddenly letting out a miserable sob. "But I'll nev-ah see it again."

Laces' chest caved. She wished so desperately to offer reassurance, but she didn't have it in her to lie. Domino's aversion to them seemed to have rubbed off on her. "Well, tha Refuge's no paradise, but we've got each oth-ah in here. So... it really ain't so bad." Gracie didn't seem convinced. "Did ya wanna sleep wit me in my bed tonight?" Laces offered. "Make ya feel bett-ah?"

Gracie looked hopeful once more. "Can I?"

Laces nodded, smiling tightly. Her lips still stung. "Sure. Help ta keep us warm, too. We don't need ya gettin' frostbite on yer foist night he-ah!" She booped her nose. Gracie giggled.

"You ain't doin' her any favors," someone snapped.

Laces turned, eyes alight with a viscous glare, the look softening slightly when she saw that it was the redhead who'd spoken. Albert. She didn't know the exact details of his backstory, but knew that it was the reason he was now so unfailingly surly. Still, Laces wished he would keep his mouth shut at certain moments. Like at present. "Ise doin' more den you, mist-ah heart-'a-coal."

Albert grunted, saying nothing else.

Soon, night fell. They hadn't gotten much of anything to eat that night, either, and Laces tried in vain to quiet her growling stomach, if only for Gracie's sake. Gracie, for her part, said nothing if she'd noticed the telling sounds. Yet when Laces checked, she saw that Gracie was soon sound asleep. Still under the pretence that she was safe. She was glad the girl wasn't fully aware of the horrors of the Refuge.