Window Cracks

▶️Being Thirteen◀️

"Cake is here." Trace's voice sounds more gentle this morning.

I am now thirteen.

I open my eyes and jolt out of bed, heading for the kitchen, with Trace behind me, as usual. I can feel her rolling her eyes at my sudden energy. I do not care.

Ever since Vivian and I came here about ten months ago, our lives have changed, significantly.

The Tank is something I had never thought to become the reason I woke up for every morning. The hard stony walls, grey days and cold mornings have incessantly fought to become a part of me. Registration has become more dull. I feel like I am chained whenever our learning group moves in a single file to Zone Zero, where the stabbing cold constantly flowing from the vents and is found in the seats, in the desks, the floor, everywhere. My mind shuts down whenever Zelch, or a substitute leader who is no different from Zelch, repeats facts and tries to drill them into our heads about the other two Zones.
I have taken interest in certain aspects of both the Community Systems Unit and Physical Training Grounds, but lifting my body from the numbing hard seat in Zone Zero, and taking myself to either of the large windows to get a "visual understanding" as shouted by Zelch, has put me into a daze several times. I tend to feel disinterested. I feel tormented by the weapons from Zone Two. I feel intimidated by the complex systems from Zone One. All this, while Zelch would be babbling on in Zone Zero.
Moving to Zone One used to be an interesting procedure, as we would wear white coats and button them to our chins, wear some protective eyewear, and look like the young adults who would be roaming around ahead of us, emotionless and sophisticated. However, this repetition every Tank day, for nine months would make the routine bland after only two months. Weaving through the tall tubes as the leader says something about how some tubes control the water output for the community, or some others manufacture special 'medicine', is the ultimate and confusing bore. "Medicine for who and what?" I would think to myself.
We get time to roam around as individuals, to "internalise the information", but we are never allowed to communicate with the young adults.
I remember bumping into one, and I was instantly sucked back into the present time from my absent-mindedness, with fear filtering into my bones. The slim and tall young adult looked down at me with such question, then smiled. It was a smile that made me think the otherwise: that this place had life after all. The young adult looked around to check if it was safe to let out a few words, then he smiled an even bigger one and whispered, "I'm Mel. Yours?"
"Den." I speedily responded, utterly mesmerised by his friendliness. We exchanged hands, and to my surprise, his were very warm. He moved off, resumed examining tubes, and left me stunned.
I saw him on very few occasions, and it was then that I realised the young adults change groups of people each day, and I stopped looking for him. But whenever I see him and whenever he gets a slim chance, which is rare, he mouths my name and winks at me. I have to give a small smile back; I am not as quick as he is. But that is it: a rare wink from a young adult and a million blinks from me, in confusion, when Zelch squawks in Zone One.

It would become easier to lose track of time in Zone Two. The field is not any less terrifying than it is peering from Zone Zero. I had to get used to the fear I felt because of this Zone, and my heart slightly became hard. Every day, the weapons would have to be touched certain children in the group, for a demonstration. I have been one of the children on countless occasions, especially for running and boxing. For archery, Zelch would refer to "Myko's impressive technique" each time we would learn how to aim. I would never be more annoyed. I dislike attention. Zelch was aware of that, therefore he would do it even more.

Now, that I have three months left until I specialise at the Tank. I have a vague idea of which Zone I would most likely end up in.

And, in summary, I hate it.