The Ringing

Meet the Roommates

We followed the Official to the entrance to the Compound, a large, dark, gate, the one opening to a barbed wire, electric fence. He pressed a couple buttons on a keypad, which had a protective screen so none of us could see, and the gate swung open. Some people ran towards the gate, dropped the shovels, but the Official pressed a button on a little remote he was holding and they jumped back. He laughed. “I turned on their boundaries,” he told us. “You’ll get used to it.”

            We walked into the concrete building, the doors slamming behind us. The place was eerie-not a single person except the occasional Guard in sight. All I could see is beds, beds in horizontal parallel lines. I counted ten columns and  an infinite amount of rows. All of the beds had metal frames, with a lumpy mattress and a threadbare black blanket over it. I noticed there was also an iron basket under all of them, some filled with items, some empty. The beds were the only thing in the room-there was windows all along the top of the walls, and door openings on the left and right walls. “Doors on the left go to the bathrooms, right ones go out to the work complexes,” the Official started. “The buildings in the backs are the factories, and the large fields you saw are our other work areas. You’ll be familiar with them before you know it,” he grunted.  He pressed a button on a keypad and I saw a bed light up in pink in the seventh column, the eight row. “The beds you just saw light up are the beds you will use right here, until you leave us.” By leave us, he meant death. “Bring your iron baskets to the first door on the left, and an Assistant will give you your Empire-issued items.”

            I walked down towards the bed, when a grisly thought met my mind- these beds had either never been used, or the person who used it had just died. I hoped for the former as I picked up the iron basket, gulped, and walked toward the door.

            The room the Official had mentioned had one large island across the middle, splitting the room into two sections-the one where I stood and the one where an Assistant stood, in front of many compartments in the wall. I put my bin up on the wooden island and the Assistant, her black hair tied back, began to fill it. In it she put a grey, skimpy towel, a bottle of shampoo, a bar of soap, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a bag of hair ties, a package of underwear and socks, and three identical sets of clothes, all with a white, short sleeved shirt and tan work pants. On the pants and shirts a number had been printed in black ink-0901.  She motioned for my shoes and I took off my black Mary Janes. She opened up a compartment and I could see a large, jumping amount of fire behind it. She tossed my shoes in and gave me a pair of work boots. “Bring your clothes back here once you’ve changed,” she ordered. “Leisure activity?” she then asked.

            “What?” I shrugged my shoulders.

            “What would you like to do during your free time?” she explained. “We have a deck of cards, a pad of paper and pen, or a paint set.”

            I asked for the paint set, figuring I could hone in on my Artist skills. There was still hope, someday I could break out and work with the other Changelings. She told me I could come back if I ran out of toiletries, and then she stared at me, assuming I would walk away.

            I threw the basket under my bed and changed into the dull work clothes. The shirt was made of suffocating fabric, and the pants scratched my tired legs. I threw my hair up into a ponytail, something I had not done in ages, and brought my clothes back to the stern Assistant. She threw them into the fire without a word, and I felt a tear drip down my face as I saw my last possession catch flame and burn away, to be turned into ashes. I walked back to my bed and lay down until my head ached again and I sat up in pain. The Official’s voice rang in my head. I looked around and could see that all of the other Ringees were also hung over in pain.