Area 9

MOLLY [6] ☼

☼

I don't want to breathe their air.

What if I become them?

☼

Everything about the night is awful. It's the time when we must shut our eyes and dream awful dreams. It is the time that everything goes silent, and I am left alone. It is the time the jewelry store beneath me closes.

The jewelry store- my everything.

Area 6, the home of creative minds. It's beautiful during the day. People take their voices and instruments to the streets and fill the summer air with pure happiness. Sometimes, when I shut my eyes and listen- really listen- and do nothing else at all, everything is okay. I am not living in a terrible world with a terrible government- I am free.

Area 6 is looked at with disgust. Everyone believes we're just a bunch of carefree freaks that think too much. We were't made to represent business or farming or mining, but creative minds and intelligence. We are the ones that piece everything together- the glue. TCA interacts with our Area the most, since we're always spitting new ideas- unwillingly- but they don't treat us any better. 

At exactly 9:00 p.m- like every night- a knock sounded at the door. I felt my stomach twist itself into a knot, forcing myself to travel forward and answer. My eyes met those of Ruslan Pavesk. Our orbs were the same, brown, but his were full of something that made you want to turn around no matter where you were and run for it.

"Ruslan," I greeted, waiting.

"Molly," he returned impatiently.

He inspected this row every other night. His job was to make sure we were all in order, Area 6, that is, and working on our assignments and endless list of tasks. The other inspector for our row would let some of my inconveniences slide, but Ruslan didn't. I remember the first time he'd stopped by, and I was behind on my project, and left with a black eye and bloody nose.

"Cabin mates?" he began.

"Asleep."

"And your project?"

"Tasked to sort and almost finished," I told him in return. This wasn't a lie at all thankfully, but that didn't put me more at ease.

"Tasked to sort," he snorted, writing something down on the little piece of paper on his clipboard. "Carry on," he continued, annoyance lacing his rough voice, then he left me alone in the doorway.

I felt my heartbeat slow, and let out a sigh of relief. Luckily, he hadn't asked to come inside today.

☼

Actually, I take part of what I said back. There is one good thing about night. When everyone is asleep, including the other lives in my cabin, I can disappear to underneath our shop. The basement was initially made to store extra pieces for upstairs, but it was long forgotten, and I took it upon myself to get some use out of the extra space.

I creeped down the stairs, taking it slow. Fear always found its way to me, no matter how I tried to resist it- it was inevitable, even when I know not a soul could hear me at this hour. Yet, with each creak of the structure, I found myself waiting a few seconds before proceeding.