The Parables

Zsak - Precinct Fourteen

Zsak - Precinct Fourteen

Hot droplets of water hammer down onto my shoulders, soaking me in a comforting humidity. Steam clogs up the glass walls of the cramped, cuboid shower. Soap suds shroud my skin, cleansing it of its impurities. An early morning shower is exactly what I need to wake me up properly. Maybe another game of Whist with Bracken too.

Facing the shower head, I wipe my eyes and sigh. Water drips from hair onto my face, sliding down my cheeks as if I were crying. But that is the last thing I would be doing. I'm one of two Martyrs who wanted to compete in The Parables, therefore I have nothing to weep about, only a success to celebrate. A smile appears on my face. Competing used to be a mere dream which every adolescent in the Precinct had, but now it's a reality that I'm living.

Turning the dial, the flow of water ceases and I'm left standing, dripping wet in the enclosed space of the shower in the en suite. Opening the door, I seize a towel and quickly dry my body. Wrapping the towel around my waist, I head into my sleeping quarters just in time to hear a knock at the door. I frown. Crossing the room, I twist the handle and pull open the door, revealing Bracken standing there. He grins at me.

"Morning, mate."

I nod. "Morning."

"Just came to tell you breakfast will be ready soon."

"Sounds good. If it's as good as lunch and dinner yesterday then I'll be happy."

Bracken grins. "Oh, and make sure you wear a grey shirt and black trousers."

I frown. "I don't own a grey shirt."

Bracken raises an eyebrow. "Did you see the walk-in-wardrobe in your room?"

"Oh." I smile sheepishly. "I knew that."

Bracken smiles at me, shaking his head. "See you in five." He turns around and heads into the main area of the carriage.

Closing the door, I turn around and open the wardrobe's doors. Searching through the racks of male clothing, I find myself a grey shirt with a semi-spread collar. Picking my black trousers off the floor, I head back into the en suite and change into them. Rolling up the sleeves so the cuffs fit nicely above my elbows, I grab a pot of hair gel out of the cupboard and ease my hair into a smooth wave. Nodding at myself in the mirror, I put the hair gel back and head into the main area of the carriage.

The minute I step foot outside of my sleeping quarters, the scent of bacon frying wafts towards me, making my mouth water. Bacon. It's been so long since I've had a taste of it. It's expensive to buy but worth all the money in the world. Now I'm getting it for free. 

As I walk further in, my eyes land upon Bracken sitting at the table, reading a newspaper with his glasses on. I smile. Pulling back the chair opposite him, it creates a low-pitched screech which catches his attention. Tilting his head to the side of the newspaper, he grins at me as I sit down opposite him.

"Looking smart there, Zsak," he remarks.

I grin. "Thanks. You don't look too shabby yourself."

 Bracken dons a freshly ironed black suit with a grey tie knotted around his neck in a windsor knot. He looks like he's going to a party at The Bureaucrat's house. Just then, Ismene bustles out of the kitchen wearing a strapless, black pouf dress and heels that match. A necklace threaded with black onyxes drapes around her neck, the gemstones glinting in the early morning light. She smiles warmly at me and places a plate of bacon rashers down on the table nearest to me. My eyes light up in delight.

"You like bacon then?"

"I've only ever had it a few times but boy is it amazing."

Ismene laughs. "I'm guessing there won't be any left for Bracken or me?"