Running to a Safe Haven

Chapter 1: They Call Us "Cursed"

Every second of every minute, every minute of every hour, every hour of every day fails me. I expect a miracle, something which can get me out of this situation. They are doing this for their benefit, they don't realise that lives will be lost and hearts will be broken. Even if they did, they wouldn't care, they've clarified their decision. I wait hopelessly and I pray selflessly. Our society was prone to arguing about such frivolous things and now our mouths are shut. We have no voice; we speak we die. We've been fenced off to the world and the doors to a friendly civilisation have been locked. No one sees us and no one hears us, to the world we are long gone. It's part of their plan, they know who we are and they are afraid of us. They merely understand the power we hold, if they knew completely what we could do they'd have trepidation running through their blood and they'd kill us all within three seconds. My name is Esther Corbelle, I'm a target here. Everyone trapped in this prison or as they call it 'hospital' is a target. They call us targets but we're survivors, that's what we call each other. Unlike those who've come close to death, we've faced the death scenario and have died giving us this unique power unlike any ever witnessed before. We discovered that we could telepathize, we could read other people's minds without any physical communication. Now our minds are a few days or a few months ahead of everyone else's because we know their thoughts, their moves, their plans. After this encounter we came 'back to life' and now live our lives as they are, that's why we are called survivors because we survived death. For us survivors, it's been a treacherous journey so far. In the hospital, there are only survivors allowed and the undeclared doctors. We were separated from our families for a year now. They are not in our lives neither are we in theirs. It's difficult to sustain a smile when your whole world is falling apart. We didn't ask for this pain; we can't help who we are. If only they could accept that, if only they knew that we weren't as cursed as they thought we were then they'd erase the labels and the scars from our blemished skin.

I always stay in my room it's half demolished and withering away like every other room in the area. It's cold and rough, in the almost unliveable conditions we pull through. My peachy cheeks dry and sore, the shimmer of sunlight barely glistening on my skin. I pick up the cracked mirror laying there silently on my bed, the fragile porcelain border sits gently in my sweaty palms. A mere gift from my mother, a reminder of her humble love as I slide my fingers across the shattered reflection. I stare into the mirror tears tied up in my eyes thinking of my mother, what it would be like if she were here even though I knew distinctly. I barely manage to see my reflection, caught up in the division of the shards of glass. I dust the rustic handle and clench my firm bony fists. I run my bare finger across the glass edge staring at my soft subtle reflection. I begin to bear a drop of thick red blood on the tip of my finger, I've seen much worse before. I turn to the well just across my room making my way there stumbling on the rugged ground. Stones, embedded into the crumbling dust of the frail stomping ground. Tears burst out as the thought of my mother lingers in my mind. Eerily with clouded vision, I heave up a bucket of water and the drop of blood sinks like a weak, storm chaffed ship into the murky depths of the water. I hastily sit on a load of bricks, my finger throbbing with a tenuously coarse pain. I let the sombre, yet cool water, trickle down my hot stubborn cheeks with the unanticipated gush of tears rolling down my seared face. I allowed my sweaty hands to dive into the bucket the refreshing coolness conciliates my emotions. Spying at a further distance I see Nathan, my brother, right now he is my only family. Nathan isn't a survivor but I gave him some of my blood to pass the test, also known as the reference, so I wouldn't be alone in the prison as my parents convinced me. He's only eleven yet he's always dreamt of becoming a pilot. Before we were fenced off to the world he collected plane books and taught himself the basics of flying a plane. I tell him that his dream isn't far off but the chance of escaping is, so we have to plan it in secrecy before they make a move. Ever since the reference, his life changed as much as mine did. The worst part was having to move on from family if the reference claimed you cursed. Some people longed to be cursed so that they could leave their families seeking refuge however the expectations weren't satisfied. No one told us we'd be treated like slaves here, no one would have agreed to undergo the reference otherwise. If people knew what they were in for before they walked right into these manipulative traps, then things wouldn't have to be as complicated as things are outside the gates today.