Ultramarine -- REWRITTEN

Twenty. [c.h.] -- REWRITTEN

          What lies could I tell Aria that would suffice?

          My section was great at lying; giving false information to trade with a gullible crowd. Seeds, clothes, hygiene products, and more for information. But what would I say that would seem believable, yet be entirely false at the same time? Would she know of my lies, or swallow the pill like everyone else had? Maybe the lie would prove to her that I didn't know as much as she once thought, or she would punish me more because she knew that I had purposely fabricated clues. I could not reveal anything about the world before the Cataclysm; it would be too dangerous and risky to do so. In fact, I didn't know enough about the pre-world to construct any lies without knowing for certain that it was one. I could accidentally give true information that they could use. Besides, why give true information if I couldn't be freed? Once I would confess, they'd want more and more and more, probably capturing those I loved to force the words from my throat.

          They were forced once, mixed with blood.

          "How are your palms doing?" Harry asked one morning, easily stepping into my chamber and standing in front of me.

          "Better. Not good enough to hold some sand in them, though," I answered, holding them out for him to see. "Also, you can sit on the cot next to me, you know?"

          He shrugged and took a hand in his, unwrapping the fabric and gauze. He observed the stitches. "It should heal within one to two weeks," I guessed. My one month imprisonment would be marked in a few short days, and knowing how everything was going, I'd probably still be trapped when they healed entirely. "Since we used stitches it's going to heal faster." He nodded, carefully wrapping one palm to check the other. His hold was gentle and his gaze was focused, trying to find the smallest indication that something was wrong. He took a deep breath and wrapped it again once he was satisfied, sparing a glance underneath my cot. He chuckled, a sound that made its home into my heart. He let go of my hand, knelt down, and pulled the bag out from underneath it.

          "Not a very good hiding spot," he commented, holding the bag up for me to see. I smiled and rolled my eyes as he brought it to his nose, closing his eyes as he took a sniff.

          "You're the only one who will notice it," I remarked, grabbing it from him to inhale the scent of the ocean. I closed my eyes, picturing the sounds of the waves that were slowly, but surely, leaking from my memories. I took out the bottle of sand, holding it and admiring the grains, yearning to feel them in my palms and between my fingers. A small shell sat on the top, reminding me of everything I did not have.

+++

          "I was experimented on two days ago," I argued. "My body is not ready, unless you want me to die."

          "That was not your experiment. It was your brother's that you just so happened to take. We had this scheduled, and we're not moving it for your sake," Aria sneered, the force field being the only thing between my hands and her throat.

          "Speaking of Leon, why haven't we seen him home yet?"

          "All in due time. We have him for safekeeping."

          I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. "I see you've made homemade bandaging," Aria hummed, lifting her hand and flicking her wrist, indicating for Harry to take me and follow her.

          "It's so they don't get infected. But when they do heal, you'll find them around your throat," I hissed as Harry wrapped a hand around my arm.

          "Your empty threats amuse me." I spit on the ground by her shoes and she only spared a short glance at my cowardly attempt before turning and walking in front of us. The sound of her heels were ingrained in my memory and haunted my dreams. I wanted to cringe and flinch every time I heard them, because nothing good came from the sound.