DIVIDE

~Chapter 3~

Date 27/10/2364. Time 19:47

It has been just over two months since a bomb dropped by an air-pod destroyed everything in the rural district of Halo, including a small section of The Wall. I have also been here, in this hospital bed, for two whole months. I'm still expecting Taj Shamsay to 'drop by' with news on my province placement; consequently, this is the scenario which has been playing on repeat in my mind like a stuck record since his first visit just after I surfaced on the other side of a medically-induced coma. Each has a completely different but nevertheless equally daunting outcome. I'm petrified that I'll be placed in Inferno, marked as evil for the rest of my life. Particularly after the bombing, I am being made to question everything I thought I knew about this society, and I admit that the recent attack on our side of Halo hasn't exactly painted Inferno in a good light, despite the fact that they destroyed part of The Wall (swiftly barricaded once again by Halo officials) , an action which, for obvious reasons, I've always been supportive of. On the other hand, I'm even more afraid that I'll be made to stay in Halo until I'm grey and old, confined to my house because of my neighbours' intolerant behaviour towards my mother and I. I want to reinvent myself, and not have to live in fear, and that means starting afresh, with a new batch of people, who are clearly in favour of the destruction of moral classification. I think also that in the long run, my mother will benefit from my absence- she might even get a decent job. But if Inferno are in favour of bombing so many innocent people in Halo, who knows what they'll do to Halo transfers?

My ongoing train of thought is interrupted when my doctor Sabastian storms into the room muttering angrily under his breath, with a face like thunder. I have only ever seen the man look this way once before, and that was while conversing with Taj Shamsay. Which can only mean one thing...

"What's up with you?" I joke, in an unsuccessful attempt to diffuse the tension as he furiously dabs at one of my many almost-healed wounds.

He stops attacking my face with a cotton bud and syringe, and looks up at me. "Shamsay is what's up. That man-" he spits , "That man is in the waiting room. He wants to talk to you about your placement and then discharge you right away- as if that's his decision to make." All of the nightmares and fears I've lived through over the last two months regarding my placement culminate in just a few seconds, so much that I feel the desperate urge to vomit on Sabastian's ("fashionable and practical") crocs.

"But don't you worry, your good friend Sab's got it all under control," he says, unrolling a bandage in the corner of the room. Now it's my turn to roll my eyes at a bit of untimely friendly banter, which frankly does nothing to ease my nerves, "I just went straight in there, snatched that foul cigar right out of his mouth and told him to leave." I raise my eyebrows, convinced that like the exaggerated matey tone, it's just a joke. I sit up on my elbows to get a good look at him, sure his facial expression will give him away, but he seems sincere even though he won't meet my eyes. Instead, he twirls some dials on my monitor, brows furrowed.

"Really?" I inquire.

"No," he admits, and my heart sinks, "I just told him you weren't ready to leave yet." He sounds unconvinced. "I mean, one look at your face is enough to see-" He falters, and we both know why. Thanks to the advanced drugs and medical techniques at Halo, barely anything sets my face apart from anyone else's, even after it was shattered by that bomb. Sure, I have half an ear less than the standard number. I also have a network of deep white scars on my forehead, cheek, chin and lip, which I like to think look a bit like a cobweb. But the big difference between me and anyone else in the Provinces has always been, and (even after all of this) still is, my lack of markings on my forehead. And that leads me to reluctantly conclude that Sabastian is right; there is really nothing keeping me here, besides the change in scenery.