ASUNDER (I) : tmr newt

46: I'm Bleeding

Warning: This scene contains attempted sexual assault and is very significant to the plot. Summary and explanation below.

Dawn 46

It's easier to hide from Minho than I thought. He checks all the places he expects me to be. The Homestead, hidden in one of the medical rooms, or under one of the bunkbeds. In the kitchens, the Deadheads, or around the bonfire are the places I normally hang around.

Currently though, seeing as I knew he would be looking in all of the usual places, I have hidden in the Slammer. They don't lock the door unless it is in use after all, which makes it more than easy to hide in here.

When I first stepped inside, I felt queasy. The Slammer gave me the illusion of a quiet sanctuary, and while I am not one for solitude, it would serve its purpose for the night, until I found a better place to hide tomorrow. As soon as I shut the door, I noticed why this place is a punishment.

Bloody handprints drag down the wall, having stained the concrete. The floor shows a map of all the places someone was brutally beaten, and I don't want to think about it but I know this was Michelle. I might have given her too much klunk for how often she got in trouble and disrespected authority. It seems she got more flack than I could have ever given her.

I can see how they beat her. From the splatters on the floor I can see where she coughed up blood, and the larger dots reveal where she bled from her nose. In large pools, I can tell where she lied bleeding for hours on end. Alone in this square prison she waited. Here I can feel her anger staining the walls. Her despair as she smashed her knuckles against the door, begging to be let out.

It doesn't matter what she did or didn't do. This violence disgusts me. I am not a pacifist either. Although I've never done it, I know if it came down to it, I could beat someone. This seems senseless. The sight doesn't make me gag, but it makes my stomach turn over the idea that I should've been there for her, but I wasn't. The four of us are sort of sisters after all, born on the same day from the same place. It's not just my job to sit on the sidelines and watch them all crumble.

At least the Slammer can provide me security when all it once did was hold pain captive.

It's gotten darker out, which means Minho must be sleeping, but I can't avoid the thought in my head that he is still looking for me out there. I know it isn't true though.

The worst part of this, is that I can't be mad at him. After all, he did nothing wrong. I cannot blame a boy for not falling in love with me. That wouldn't be fair on my part, although I do understand why he is upset with me for keeping it a secret. I was just trying to protect us, but look where that got me.

Alone in the Slammer, apparently.

I hear the door creak open, if just slowly, and I stare forward.

"What are you doing in here?"

It's not him.

"Ben, right?" I ask, watching the boy limp into the room.

He nods, "yeah, that's me."

"You're a Builder, right?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Was a while ago. Before you guys came anyway. Runner now, though, or at least I was."

He looks down at his ankle, and I furrow my brow. "You're the guy who got injured."

"Three more weeks," his limp is obvious as he comes closer to me. "Then I'm back in the Maze."

I nod. When he smiles it feels a little odd. I can't pin it on anything, but Ben is an odd fellow. The first night, I heard he got in a bit of a tiff with Michelle, which I guess isn't that hard. Or at least, I thought so until I came in here.