69 Short Stories

Part 18: The Colour Of U (1) 873 words

Author's Notes: Hello, dear readers, and yes, this is another short series similar to 'Pompeii, it's August", it has almost 4000 words in total and will be spread across 4 chapters. Have fun! Enjoy the first part!

I put on my fake smile and greeted Madame K. She gave me a hostile look and pointed at the door. I kept my head low and hurried over to the customer. I can feel Madame K glaring at me, K for King, she's the ruler of us all.

"Thirteen, apple tart, table 8." My friend Six waved at me from the counter. That's what they call us, numbers. Here, we're not kids, we're not teens, we're not adults, we are objects, numbers.

"Oh sorry, that was for table 4." Six exclaimed and swapped the plates I was holding. I can hear Madame K snicker in the distance. She loves it when we make mistakes because that means we can be punished.

I bit my lips and hurried out the door once more. I wish I can go out the door and never come back. But I know, we all know, that we won't survive a day in the outside world.

Six and I share a bed. We live below the shop, in an underground cellar. It's boiling hot in summer but freezing in winter. Water sometimes drip us awake in the middle of the night.

But where else can we go? I've been here for seven years, seven winters and seven summers. But Six has lived her whole life here. Everyone here has problems and we were all stupid enough to believe Madame K when she told us that she'll bring us to the world with colour, warmth, and happiness.

I shut my eyelids. For all 14 years of my life, I wished that when I open my eyes again, I can see the blue sky and green grass.

But there are no colours here. They don't have blue skies in this cellar, leave along the green grass and chanting of birds. It's just stone, grey stone, grey bed, grey concrete. As grey as life can ever be.

I dreamed about a fireplace on the wall and stars hanging from the roof as I carefully checked Six's leg. Hopefully, the stars will brighten us, hopefully, the warmth of fire would take away the humid air and let Six's metal right leg corrode slower.

We can't sleep tonight, just like any other night. We don't want to sleep, because we know that the second we hit the pillow K will slam open the moldy basement door and ring the bells.

So instead of sleeping, we dream. We lie on our beds, silently dreaming about the things we wish we had. Proper names, schools, family, anything.

"Table 12, Lemonade." Six smiled and passed me the bottle from the counter. Poor Six, she only has one leg, and yet she has to work long hours at the counter and greet all customers with a smile. Who knows how much pain she's going through.

"Thirteen, come over for a sec." Three waved at me after I delivered the order. I turned around, Three and Six are the only ones I trust in here. Here, at this café, Three is special. Not only he's the only boy out of us thirteen, he's also the third oldest and definitely the prettiest.

Under his white glove, Three's perfect. This confused me a lot when I first arrived, thinking that everyone here has problems in some ways. But then I found out, his secret, his problem.

The customer Three was hosting is a young girl. About our age, actually, perhaps older. She smiled at me and waved hand gestures at us. Three looked at me, tilting his head, like a confused little kid. When I returned with a notepad and a pencil, Three put on his smile that can light up the whole café. The girl nodded at me and started writing.

We learned that she lost her own sketchbook because her bag was ripped and is now lost in the busy city streets. Three tried to help her with getting back into contact with her family as I continued my shift.

After some cleaning around the place, I spotted something lying on the ground across the street.

A sketchbook!

I returned to the girl's table, pointing at the object across the street. She nodded with delight as I prepared to cross the road. But in the overwhelming sense of accomplishment, I forgot something.

Something really important.

It wasn't until the screeching sound of sudden breaks reaching my ear that I realized what I was actually doing. I've never crossed this road before, I've never left the café since I arrived here, because I know, with my problem, I can't survive a day in the outside world...

But it was too late.

A huge, invisible force pushed into me, and as I watch my world tilt, the pain started to kick into me. Into every single cell of my body.

As I lie on the ground, numb, I see the traffic light at an angle. I can't tell the difference between the three bulbs.

After all, I have problems. We all have problems.