Unmarked

11. Still Here

A brief moment of rest that's all I'd planned. I'd closed my eyes while waiting for the others to fall asleep, and I've woken to the others getting up.

"Do you ever take those clothes off?" Darla bends over me inspecting my fully dressed body. I rub my eyes, my mind groggy and slow.

"What time is it?" I say sitting up.

The bedroom is basic: a few bunk beds and a large mirror against one wall. Clothes overflow from a single set of drawers and onto one of the unoccupied beds. No windows mean I have no idea whether it's day or night.

"Time to get up. We have training first thing then we can eat."

"Training?" My body is stiff. I don't remember the last time I slept so heavily or I do, but walking for three days to get home does that.

"Nothing too strenuous. An hour of practising our moves, an hour run and the rest of the day we can chill before the chaos begins tonight," Lottie says, digging through the mountain of clothes.

An hour run means going outside. This is going to be my chance to run.

"Where is the bathroom?" I ask.

"Outside on your left," Darla says. "We'll meet you downstairs.'

The bathroom door lock doesn't work. I can't risk washing and drying myself in case someone walks in and sees my exposed unmarked body so I have to settle on quickly splashing myself under my clothes which means I now look as though I have a problem with excessive sweating and bladder control.

Tying my hair up, I ignore the itchy uncomfortable sensation of the damp material rubbing against my skin. I would ask to borrow some clothing however from what I've seen the others wearing, it's highly unlikely they own anything which would provide enough coverage for me.

Downstairs, all the furniture has been piled up and pushed to the edges of the room. I lean against the wall watching everyone pair off.

Moving around each other, they grab, kick and some of them I'm pretty sure are hugging. The State's enforcement of not displaying aggressive or threatening behaviour means I've never witnessed a staged fight, never seen anything which looks even remotely similar to the harsh violent interactions being played out in front of me.

Hangings and State ordered punishments- yes, I've witnessed these. Messily fighting my way out of a horrible situation- yes, I've been there. None of that compares to what I'm watching right now. Luckily, I'll never have to do any of this. I'm setting my sights on running as far away from here as soon as possible.

"You look a little shocked," Grey says, leaning against the wall next to me.

"I've never seen anything like this before." I shrug.

"Get used to it. You'll be seeing a lot of fighting here and what you're seeing now is nothing compared to the way the customers fight. They don't stop pounding each other until they are forced too."

"Can't wait. They sound like lovely individuals," I say sarcastically.

"Most of them are pretty normal people."

"Normal people don't beat the shit out of each other for fun.'

Grey frowns. "They don't only do it for fun. It's also for power, distraction, to gain respect."

"You'd think people would be less inclined to fight seeing as The State discourages any forms of verbal and physical aggression."

"The State are hypocrites. They abuse people in their labour camps and kill people daily. They don't discourage aggression, they enjoy it but only when they are the ones permitted to carry it out. They want the masses to be helpless and weak; unable to fight back while they have the power," Grey's voice is low and harsh. Ego asshole just turned into a deep thought-provoking asshole.