'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs.
Setting fire to our insides just for fun."
(I didn't even edit this or read over it, so it's whatever.)
~Squiggs
I don't remember a lot of the specifics of how this happened to us. A few things I remember, I guess, but not enough to decipher the cause or even the reason for it. There was nothing different about this day. Absolutely nothing. And I remember just how it started.
I wake early, just as my mother shoves aside the thick curtains and lets in the sunlight, insanely bright despite the thick glass.
"Rise and shine," she says, not exactly the voice of joy. When I don't move, she tugs at my covers, but I hold tightly to them, keeping them up to my neck.
"Raiden," she scolds, then sighs, "Well, at least I know you're alive. Breakfast will be ready soon. You have to be dressed in time for the line."
I mumble something into my pillow. I wait for the door to close, then I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. After approximately three seconds, the dull cream color grows boring, and I decide getting ready for school may be more enjoyable.
Maybe.
I shrug into dark jeans and slide a violet tank over my head. Deciding that bangles are evil, I strip a thick leather band to each of my wrists. I pull a hairbrush through my through my dark waves of hair until they are at least a little bit bearable before wrapping a strip of leather around the lot.
"Ray!"
I slide on dark brown boots and sling my shoulder bag across my back. "Coming!"
I bolt out of my bedroom and would've passed right by the kitchen if my mother hadn't yelled, "BREAKFAST FIRST!"
I shove a piece of toast into my mouth and try to ignore the lack of butter. My mother frowns, then goes to the counter and fixes a paper bag for my lunch. "You need to eat more," she states.
"I eat enough."
She shoves the bag in one of my hands and hands me two pieces of bacon. "Eat."
"I have to go. The lines gonna start anytime now."
I wrap the bacon in a paper towel and slip it into the outside pocket of my shoulder bag.
Then I grab one of the black cloaks hanging on the wall by the door. They're all the same, and simple, and they cover us from the head to the knee. I pull the hood down so that it covers my forehead, but my mother instantly pushes it aside to kiss my temple. "Have a good day at school."
"I will."
She smiles at me, then turns, glaring at the empty hallway. "CYRUS! IT'S TIME FOR LINE."
My younger brother instantly emerges from his bedroom and into the kitchen. He grabs breakfast and a paper bag from the counter, then joins me by the door, munching on a strip of bacon as he shrugs his cloak over a black t-shirt and blue jeans. My mother stands watch, hands on her hips. When he's finished the bacon, Cyrus leans in and kisses my mother on the cheek.
"See ya after school, Ma. Come on, Ray!"
And like that he's out the door, me at his heels. We keep our hoods over our faces as we walk under the long canopy that stretches over the alleys between houses. Cyrus finishes his breakfast and starts to dig into his lunch bag for more food.
"You'll get fat if you eat so much, Cy."
He doesn't look up from his search. "No, I eat food that's healthy for me. If you don't eat, you'll never grow."
I scowl at him. I'm older than him by more than a year, and already he's a foot taller than me. Before I can retaliate, he nudges me and nods to a group of people crowded under one of the larger canopies. "That's your class. You'd better get going."
Before I turn to go, I reach up and pull his hood further over his head. "Be safe," I tell him.
"You too."
I jog over to join my class. My teacher, a thin woman, and looking even thinner in her own cloak, hands me a strip of cloth like the ones we get every morning and afternoon.
"Form a line, everyone!" She shouts to the class, "Stay behind the person in front of you at all times, and don't remove your blindfold!"
I reach up and tie the fabric over my eyes. I've been doing this for my whole life, ever since I left the neighborhood, and I remember, when I was small, what my mother said when I asked her about them.
"We wear them because the sun is bright, blindingly bright, and we aren't able to look at it, so we cover our eyes."
We cover our eyes. As I walk at a steady pace in line, I see only darkness, feel only a dull heat on my arms and back, but I know there's light surrounding us.
"Ray!"
I slide on dark brown boots and sling my shoulder bag across my back. "Coming!"
I bolt out of my bedroom and would've passed right by the kitchen if my mother hadn't yelled, "BREAKFAST FIRST!"
I shove a piece of toast into my mouth and try to ignore the lack of butter. My mother frowns, then goes to the counter and fixes a paper bag for my lunch. "You need to eat more," she states.
"I eat enough."
She shoves the bag in one of my hands and hands me two pieces of bacon. "Eat."
"I have to go. The lines gonna start anytime now."
I wrap the bacon in a paper towel and slip it into the outside pocket of my shoulder bag.
Then I grab one of the black cloaks hanging on the wall by the door. They're all the same, and simple, and they cover us from the head to the knee. I pull the hood down so that it covers my forehead, but my mother instantly pushes it aside to kiss my temple. "Have a good day at school."
"I will."
She smiles at me, then turns, glaring at the empty hallway. "CYRUS! IT'S TIME FOR LINE."
My younger brother instantly emerges from his bedroom and into the kitchen. He grabs breakfast and a paper bag from the counter, then joins me by the door, munching on a strip of bacon as he shrugs his cloak over a black t-shirt and blue jeans. My mother stands watch, hands on her hips. When he's finished the bacon, Cyrus leans in and kisses my mother on the cheek.
"See ya after school, Ma. Come on, Ray!"
And like that he's out the door, me at his heels. We keep our hoods over our faces as we walk under the long canopy that stretches over the alleys between houses. Cyrus finishes his breakfast and starts to dig into his lunch bag for more food.
"You'll get fat if you eat so much, Cy."
He doesn't look up from his search. "No, I eat food that's healthy for me. If you don't eat, you'll never grow."
I scowl at him. I'm older than him by more than a year, and already he's a foot taller than me. Before I can retaliate, he nudges me and nods to a group of people crowded under one of the larger canopies. "That's your class. You'd better get going."
Before I turn to go, I reach up and pull his hood further over his head. "Be safe," I tell him.
"You too."
I jog over to join my class. My teacher, a thin woman, and looking even thinner in her own cloak, hands me a strip of cloth like the ones we get every morning and afternoon.
"Form a line, everyone!" She shouts to the class, "Stay behind the person in front of you at all times, and don't remove your blindfold!"
I reach up and tie the fabric over my eyes. I've been doing this for my whole life, ever since I left the neighborhood, and I remember, when I was small, what my mother said when I asked her about them.
"We wear them because the sun is bright, blindingly bright, and we aren't able to look at it, so we cover our eyes."
We cover our eyes. As I walk at a steady pace in line, I see only darkness, feel only a dull heat on my arms and back, but I know there's light surrounding us.
~Squiggs
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