Uncoded

Chapter 7: jennifer

One down. Two more to go.

I dragged the pitiful 'arron' aka steak stealer behind me as I walked. Though to anyone else we would just look like a lowly coded couple taking a stroll in the streets. I kept my hand wrapped around his so tightly I thought that my white gemstone ring was cutting into him. Though he didn't groan or squirm in pain so I guessed he was okay. I almost couldn't believe that I had caught him so quickly. Melissa had said that when I found them they would have the four slight lines, right on the edge of their collar bone, almost invisible and very well hidden. Some might even call it luck to find him this quickly. I never like to believe nor rely on luck. I made my own luck. Density is bullshit. Fate is bullshit. I didn't see fate saving me or my family. Mom, dad, and Cassie, all dead. I couldn't blame fate. No I had someone better to blame. Those things that controlled us, those things in the tower. I supposed there was plenty of kids like me. Bitter about the culling or better know as the Red Day. A day where all the guards began to ransack homes in redhall.

Separate uncoded children from their parents. Sometimes shooting the kids if they screamed too much. The boys go to the army. The girls go to the academy. Those who fight. Bang. Those who scream. Bang. Those who cry. Bang. To the uncoded the day was a tragedy, the day when the streets were painted red. To the coded, a victory, the pest control had swept out a few more rats. I wonder if steak stealer was one of those kids who lost a parent that day. I tried to look into his green forest eyes, for a sign of disconnect, distrust, loneliness, anything you would see if you cared to look into my eyes. Looking for strained muscles in his sharp jawline. Looking for disheveled hair amongst his chestnut hair a slight white streak hidden by the other strands. All I got was infuriating lucky-go-happy attitude, someone who was happy with what they were given in life how could anyone be happy with what they were given in this life. It was unfair. Unfair that he gets the happy childhood, while I get blood, tears, and the sounds of gurgling throats.

Remembering it now it was fuzzy, like that wasn't my life, like I was looking through the eyes of a stranger. I remembered sitting down, and playing with my makeshift dolls, while my older sister stoked the fire we waited patiently for my mother and father. Even as a child I felt it the restless air, the way my mother and father spoke in hushed voices in the kitchen after their day out hunting. I did know what it meant though, not until they ushered us up stairs to put on our best dresses. I asked curiously why, which my mothers only response was 'we are going to visit a friend of mine, within ashfault.' I gasped at the sound of the fabled city, as a child I thought of it as a shinning beacon of beauty as an adult I was severely disappointed. So I rushed through to my room, I can't quite remember how my parents could afford such a decent house in the slums of redhall. The one thing that stood out in the fuzzy memories, aside from the screams, was my sister, Cassandra, as she brushed my strawberry blonde hair humming under her breath as she did so. That soft humming that was cut off by the sounds of gunshots in the streets. At the first round we shuddered but continued with our work, a shot ringing out was not uncommon in redhall. But the spine chilling screams of grief afterwards were. Hearing the wail Sound out cassie immediately pulled me behind her. We stood in silence for a few minutes waiting for a call of warning from our parents.

"Girls, come down," even though it was our fathers voice calling out to us, we could still hear the quiver of fear in it. Still holding me behind her, cassie walked forward down the stairs cautiously. "Keep your head down, Jennifer." I whimpered quietly as we continued down the stairs. As soon as my sister gasped the real fight began. The screams insured as the gun shots rung out, there was so many I couldn't tell which were mine or cassie or mothers. My father slumped onto the ground as a pool of deep red spooled out underneath him. "Daddy?" I stumbled out of my sisters grasp as I ran towards his unmoving body. "Jennifer! No!" I could hear the warnings of cassie but they fell useless against my desire from comfort from my father. "Tell her to stop moving!" The guards cold voice sent hills down my spine. "Sweetie, please-". Bang. I stopped moving as I turned to look at my mother horrified expression on her face as a line of red trickled down her forehead. "Mamma?" My foot suddenly slipped on the red liquid that pooled from my father, as I fell right into the sticky blood, it staining my white dress a devastating red. But even though I could hear my sister yelling at me, I didn't scream at the red the had began to envelope me. It seemed almost normal. I did scream however when one of the guards holstered their guns and wrapped his arms around my tiny wait lifting me up. I could see the dangling saturated ribbons of my dress drip the crimson liquid into a small puddle on the floor. Kicking as much as I could I tried to get the man to drop me. But with 1kg of amour and only a tiny girls legs attacking, I doubted the man had much trouble dragging me outside with my sister. If I thought what happened inside the house was horrific, then what I was faced with outside was a nightmare. The once dirty rubble covered in splashes of red, grates that were covered with layers of grime was now clogged with bloated fresh bodies. Children being dragged outside, some of them still managing to drag along the cold hands of their parents as they themselves were dragged away. I could see guards faraway at the gate spreading the guards into different lines and regiments. There was so much blood. So much screaming. Everything seemed to blend into one. I wanted cry as the feelings overwhelmed me but looking up at the guard I did something completely different. Instead of giving him or anyone the satisfaction of my tears, I refused to give them what they were getting from every single child fear. So as I looked up to him, tears still brimming, I spat in his face. He seemed a bit shocked at first, loosening his grip on me but eventually he realised the disrespect and began to squeeze me even tighter as he reached into his pocket. Now I let the fear consume me, even though my rebellious act had given me a shot of adrenaline, I still knew that this man could kill me. Out of his pocket he produced a dangerous looking needle with an extremely sharp point. I increased my struggling as He pulled the cap off with his teeth before stabbing it forcefully into my arm. As the liquid entered my system painfully I felt my movements slow, as the air around me became thick like syrup, and impossible to move through. All I remembered was the screams and shots sounding out as I blacked out.