ROGER (Read Until 7/31)

E I G H T

Growing up, Xerses had always wanted to be a bioengineer or a lab-coat—that's what we called the high and powerful doctors of the Province. Me? I wanted to be a ninja, cloaked in black, wielding poisonous death-stars in each of my hands. Sum it up to an active imagination, because I knew it was impossible. But my mom never told me I couldn't be one. And leave it up to Roger to try and make it possible.

He didn't do it intentionally, but that childhood memory of me darting around store corners pretending to be a devil in the night came back to light as our days progressed. Roaming the city, all dark and mysterious, made me feel just like that—a ninja. I had to survive, and every night when the Hosts weren't covering the streets, I snuck out into the streets and disguised myself with the shadows. It took Roger two days before he realized what I was doing, but when he did, I was thankful only I could hear him because he laughed so loud, I had to cover my ears.

He'd said he could narrate my adventures if I wanted him to. Thankfully, he was kidding. But that didn't mean he wouldn't add his own special touch to my nightly, survival adventures. Reminding me that he was still my certified VF, it was his job to keep me entertained and smiling, regardless of the danger I was truly in. So, while I mentally pretended that I was bad-ass, he added special rules—game rules. With only an hour to 'play,' Roger was determined to make the most of it.

On one night, after I tossed on my dangerous grey jumpsuit of doom, Roger instructed me to 'spot the brunette.' Apparently, it wasn't just any brunette, but one in particular. He said it was like finding Waldo—whoever that was. Another night we played 'don't step into the light,' which I felt was more like 'hide and seek.'

By the end of the following week, I'd taken six different routes to the grocery store and played a handful of games. At the end of each night, I'd return home with a pocket full of treats, lay on my bed, and talk to Roger until I couldn't anymore. I had to admit, it was fun to play, so easy to pretend. Pretend that outside our bubble of endless giggling and conversation, no one else was talking.

I think I could've lived that way forever, but reality always came crashing down when you least expected it, right? Its hands would rip through your imagination, pull you out from your happiness, and toss you back into the silent streets you sought to escape—at least, that's what happened to me.

♦

There was a Saturday with no games or giggles, just orders and commands: get to the store, avoid the Hosts. I listened and didn't ask, because I had no other options. I mean, I could've stayed home, but I'd gotten used to venturing out every night, that staying inside meant surviving on chocolate. As great as it sounded to my inner kid, my stomach was over it.

So, I walked down the street, quietly, reminding myself that ninjas didn't speak or have friends, that the rest of the world was lost in the void that devoured my future. It wasn't until I reached the store and stood in front of its doors that Roger said something other than 'move, turn, now.'

He said, "I've got another game."

I blinked as the glass doors opened for me. The lights by the front register came to life, one at a time. "Okay," I muttered, "what is it?"

"I'll need you to get up to the fifth floor first."

Fifth floor, right. I walked past the registers and front aisles lined with canned soup. I could've grabbed one because I did need real food, but I made a detour instead. Four aisles over, past the snacks and spices, was every Province approved liquor you could find. Before Roger noticed my change in direction, I wrapped my hand around a bottle of white wine, then headed towards the back of the store... as originally instructed.