Zero Zero

7: throw out your cares and fly

everything was going well.

everything looked like it was going well. at least, everything looked like it was going according to plan. not well, but the best I could really hope for.

I had read watchmen, the comic books which frank had left me stacked in those vents. i found the story, the pictures, it all, wonderful.

not the pure happiness sort of wonderful, but a similar sort to trainspotting. just absolutely great. so absolutely desolate and so wonderfully chaotic. it sparked a fire in my head quieter than any rebellion: safe, but still present. it was perfect, really.

it had sparked a fire so perfect that it had given me the inspiration to write a little story. though i wanted it to be more colorful than it had turned out, it couldn't have been. the institution was no place for fostering artistic skills, even in an against-the-rules sort of way, so i only had a few pencils and pens and thankfully also a yellow highlighter at my disposal. 

it was enough, even though i didn't have anywhere close to a full range of colors. i hadn't really seen much more in terms of supplies since around the time i had turned fifteen, after their brief stint where they let us have a bit more access to stuff like that and then closed it down quickly. i wasn't lucky enough to keep any of the materials from then, but i had made do before.

and I still made do here.

it was a three page, thirty-panel story. about me and 001, about when we had just arrived here. only things were different in that world. 

we had saving the world inside those thirty panels. we had stopped the institution, saved the world from them. we'd become the pure opposite of killing machines designed specially for them. 

I thought maybe it would give him the courage to run away. maybe he and frank, they could leave this place together. I would be just another memory, but that's all you could really hope for down in the institution. or, at least, that's all I could really hope for.

and it brought a small smile to my face. the thought everything would be okay, okay enough.

I tried to remember that as I poked at the oxidized apple slices on my tray, all set in a neat circle. I did remember that everything would be alright as it could be, and that was comforting.

but almost as if they were listening in on my thoughts, someone tapped frank's shoulder. at first, I thought it would be regarding frank's transfer. but then they tapped mine as well. 

first, there was confusion. then I watched the color drained from frank's face, and then it all flooded my veins with pure fear.

"000, 007, come with me.", she said.

but it wasn't like we had an option. she grabbed our arms with a tight grip and practically yanked us out of our chairs and dragged us out of the cafeteria.

"you," she said, talking to frank, "you're meeting with section head at first period."

frank nodded solemnly, and it felt so unlike him. but I was glad for it in that moment, because I was scared of what was to come if he weren't to go along with it.

"and you, 000, second period." she said. "I suggest you both pack. we're probably going to have you transferred. and 000, I suggest you shower, it may be a few days before you get the chance again."

and as suddenly as she appeared, she disappeared down the hall.

"what the hell was that?" frank said, his words echoing down the vacant hall, "they can't. they can't just do that."

"and what the fuck? 'it may be a few days', what in the hell does that mean?" I asked. 

but as the words rolled over my teeth, I realized exactly what it meant: my worst nightmare. the realization sank into my stomach like lead in a bottomless well.

"shit.", I spat, quieter this time, "they're going to keep me in observation. fuck. they're gonna, they're gonna keep me until my nineteenth  birthday. aren't they." 

the realization so terrible that I should've been crying. I should've been bawling my fucking eyes out. but I couldn't.

instead I just stood there petrified. afraid to move an inch, even though that probably would've been better than just standing there. 

nothing made sense anymore. nothing was going according to plan. 

"I don't want to die yet." I finally choked out, quiet. so quiet that I wasn't sure if frank had heard me. so quiet that I could barely hear me. 

but the moment I could speak those words, something inside me snapped. I turned to run down the hall. faster than I had ever ran. faster, before they could even think to catch me. 

that was the end of this all. I was changing my plans.

I was painting over the old ones, after they had so rudely marked my old ones as their own. I'd never give them the chance to ruin my new plans.

I ran to my room. shoved everything I cared about into the only schoolbag: all the drawings, the small collection of books, all the things I'd deemed art supplies, and the tiny pencil I'd kept as a keepsake from when I'd last seen 001. 

I zipped up the bag and swung it over my shoulder, and the whole process was done in a matter of seconds.

I closed the door on the way out, and ran to frank's room before I could change my mind. before I could realize how fucking stupid of an idea this was.

he opened the door, and I panted out "let's leave. I'm leaving."

he looked at me, a small pile of uniform clothes in his hands. his face was a little baffled, but it didn't detract from the fact he was absolutely beaming. 

"fuck yes, let's leave. let's run." he breathed, like he'd been the one of us running around like a bat out of hell.

he dropped the clothes, letting them fall in a crumpled pile on the floor, to catch me in an elated hug. I could feel his heart beating fast, like gunshots, against my chest. 

"I'll shove my shit into my bag," he said with the widest smile I'd ever seen, "and we're gonna get the hell out of here."

he was nervous as he said it. you could read it on his lips and in his tone. but of course he was nervous. 

escaping this place was nothing short of a deathwish. if you got caught trying, who knew what they would do? 

all gerard knew were terrible stories told about by the other residents. rumors, really. they'd probably even been started by them to make sure we never left. to make sure they could use what remained of our carefully calibrated self-preservation instincts.

I didn't put it past them though; what the stories said they'd do. 

some of the tales seemed all too familiar to be false. some almost mirrored what they would do each time I slipped up: when they found my drawings, when they found the hidden pills, when they found out I'd lied for my brother to protect him from them. 

that one had been the worst punishment of all. the consequences of it all, after the punishment, they'd been infinite times worse.

still, I didn't want to die. not yet. I refused.

I just wanted to get the hell out of here.

frank glanced back over at me, bag secured on his shoulder.

"alright, let's go." he said. 

and we ran.