Earth Can't Hold Us All

SNITCHED & DITCHED

June 5th, 2080

Belle closes her eyes, every muscle in her body tightens, and she lets out a long breath. She is almost used to the fear the water causes, they've been dumping it over her face all day. 

But she's not use to the water clogging her nose and blocking her throat, she's not used to the pain.

"This is more fun than the last time and the time before that," the woman says, her malicious eyes piercing into Belle's as she tips the bucket over her face. "Do you want to know why?"

Belle only answers in a desperate gurgling sound.

"Because I can see your face harden with fear and pride every time I bring this bucket out. But guess what, Belle. Pride is going to wind you to an early grave. And fear is going to get you to snitch and live."

Belle can hear every word the woman is saying over the gushing of water pouring over her ears. She can't breathe, it feels like she's being suffocated. Like someone took a rag and stuffed it down her throat. She knows that waterboarding won't kill her, but it feels like she's facing death every time water pours down her nasal passages and throat.

Belle pictures Mickey's bright red hair as she waits for the bucket to run out of water. She tries to remember the colorful tattoos that cover Mickey's pale skinned arms and chest; how each tattoo holds a meaning.

Then suddenly she can breathe again. She gasps for air, trying to sit up right, but she's tied to the slanted table. She shakes her head and blows out of her nose, coughing up water.

"An early grave sounds more inviting than snitching and living," Belle says, water dripping from her mouth. But deep inside Belle is breaking, she looses a piece of herself every time this woman hurts her. Belle feels like she's made of glass, and another horrible moment will send her mouth running with the names of the Girl Gang members.

Why does she care so much for them?

Would they do the same for her?

After all, Clementine is the one who called the authorities on Belle. If Clementine hadn't of done that, Belle wouldn't be tied to a table in a cold room for days, pushed to her limits.

"I think you're lying to yourself. You're a smart girl, I'm sure you know that you're weak," the woman says. She tucks a piece of her dark hair behind her ear. "I can tell how weak you are. In fact, I know what makes you weak."

"I am stronger than the blades you cut me with," Belle says with a voice so sure. A mind not so sure.

"I know who makes you weak."

Belle says nothing. She doesn't want the woman to continue, she doesn't want to hear what she has to say next.

"I have a good friend who has a high position in the government in Utopia city."

Belle knows who this friend is. She closes her eyes, focuses on steadying her breathing.

"He just so happened to inform me that he has a daughter here in our Floating Village. He asked me to keep an eye on her when he left for Utopia some years ago. But she ran away from me."

The woman says all these words very slowly, her eyes are unmoving and unblinking. She won't stop staring at Belle. She is waiting for Belle to click, something to twitch in her face or her fists to clench to show her anxiety. She's hoping for a sign that Belle is about to break like a delicate glass doll.

Belle holds her breath, she wishes to die at this very moment. She wishes that if she were to stop breathing she would meet that early grave the woman was advertising to her.