by J L Park
I just wanted to get to Selection, move on from life in Pius. What had I done to deserve this?
Drifting into a fitful sleep, exhausted from the events of that day, I let the darkness take me away, even if only briefly
I woke with a start hours later, confused where I was. Any movement set off the pain in my back, head or groin. I rolled over and sat up, my head swimming, everything aching. I tried to ignore the pain, looking around the small room I was in, squinting in the small amount of light available. No windows and only a small amount of light that crept around the edges of the sole door. In the far corner, a bucket and what looked like a roll of toilet paper. A gasp escaped me; he had this planned, which meant this could go on a lot longer.
“Fuck,” I muttered to myself as I stood, the wounds over my hips protesting. Pacing out the room I discovered it was a little bigger than a single bedroom, but with nothing except the bucket. I sat down near the door, straining to detect if there was anyone else around and put my mind to thinking about my current predicament.
Escape looked impossible, at least from where I was sitting. I could jump him as he came back in, but that involved 5 foot 4 inches of me against his almost 6 foot frame. Not the best idea I’d ever had.
What if I escaped? What then?
I had no clue where I was or how to get back home. I sighed, realising that if I escaped, and made it home without being arrested, what would I do then? I couldn’t report him.
At some point, I drifted back off to sleep, waking up to a splash of cold water in my face.
“Up you get,” he grunted, choosing to haul me by the arms. He carried cable ties in his hand, putting around my wrists and hooking them over the peg before I realised what was happening. I didn’t have the energy to fight today.
Dejected, I realised there was no point in escaping, there was nothing for me outside. My shirt was pulled off this time, I took a deep breath as I waited for the inevitable pain to follow.
He’d changed his weapon of choice today, something much finer, sharper and more painful, interchanged with something that seemed like a heavy chain. Several swings cracked ribs as they connected with my side, my breath rushing out of me in a painful gasp. I turned my head, trying to find a position to take a breath in that didn’t hurt so much, when he swung the smaller whipping tool, the tip connecting with the side of my jaw and neck, making me gasp again, even as he continued to swing. Warm rivulets ran down my back as my knees buckled and I passed out.
I came to sometime later, lying on the floor. My shirt now down where it should be, fresh excruciating pain in my back and ribs, I tried to roll over. The movement of my legs shot pain through the rest of my body. I stopped trying to move. At least this time, I’d been unconscious for most of it. I struggled against the urge to curl up into a ball and wait for him to return.
“Get yourself together, Reed,” I muttered, gritting my teeth as I forced myself to sit up, wounds on my back reopening, fractured ribs protesting. My jaw hurt as I unclenched my teeth, sending a sharp pain through my cheek. My hand to my cheek, fingertips brushing over dried blood on my jaw line, I frowned. I took a deep breath, pressing harder trying to find out what was under the blood. Grunting with pain, I followed the line along my cheek and jaw, as it ran down my neck, over my shoulder and further under my shirt.
“Well, that's gonna leave a mark,” I drew my hand away, fresh blood on my fingertips and wiped it on my dirty shorts. Looking around the dark room, I had to choose - did I give up, let him do whatever it was he wanted with me, and wait for it all to end, or fight back? The way GreyBrook had raised me, I would have assumed I’d pick the first choice.
Surprising myself, I heard a small familiar voice in the darkness. “Don’t let the fucker win.”
I nodded, aware that I was talking to myself and that wasn’t the surest sign in the world I’d made the best decision. But, it was a decision I had made for myself.
My eyes, now used to the dim light in the room, I noticed for the first time, a second bucket. I shuffled over to it, pain still my biggest problem. Water. Thirsty, I cupped my hands together, drinking from the bucket. As I drank, I noticed a cloth next to me. Having had my fill of water, I picked up the cloth, and dipped its edge into the water, wiping the blood off my face, and arms. Squeezing it out over the ‘dirty’ bucket, I splashed more water onto it and cleaned the rest of me up somewhat. A sob forced its way between my teeth, and an anger I wasn't aware I was capable of reared up from somewhere deep within me. I threw the bloodied cloth across the room, stopping myself before I kicked the bucket over. Letting out a grunt, I stormed over to the closest wall and started punching, a guttural scream coming from my stomach. I punched until my hands were numb, unable to hold up my arms any longer, dropping to the floor, sobs overtaking me, knees to my chest, bloodied hands painful and exhausted hanging over my knees. I stayed that way until exhaustion forced me to sleep, barely aware as I drifted to the side to lie on the floor.
It was days before he returned. A small amount of food, and a beating, the gifts he brought with him. He wasn’t the most talkative of people, which I was glad about, I didn’t have the energy to make conversation with a monster.
As he was leaving, I heard several locks slide shut on the other side of the door. Rationing my water, and the meagre amount of food he left, I worked out the next time he visited it had been almost a week. Keeping me weak from hunger made it difficult for me to run from him should I try to escape. The darkness and I had become friends. If it was dark, he wasn’t visiting. Over time, I came to prefer it, aside from when I ran out of water and food and he didn’t visit for another day. Beatings were more common than anything else, but interspersed with perversions he decided he wanted to try.
“Reed.”
Ignoring him, I turned to the wall.
“Look at me, dyke.”
I remained facing the wall.
“Fucking look at me.” He yanked me by the hair to look at him.
I glared. “What, Walker?” I grunted, “Yeah, I know who you are.”
“Come over here.”
“Fuck off!” Whilst I didn’t want to let him win, my mouth making decisions on my behalf, speaking up in ways I never would have.
“What?!”
“You heard me. Fuck off.” So many times I wanted to slam my hand over my mouth. Why wouldn’t I shut up? Hand around my throat, he lifted me, shoving me into the wall, ears ringing as he smacked my head harder. Forcing his face into mine, he ranted at me. I had learnt to switch off when he was beating or assaulting me, and my body took over as he spoke again.
“You think you’re so fucking smart. You think you outsmarted them all in GreyBrook, in Pius, but they all know you’re a filthy dyke. You think you’re so smart - but, what you gonna do? No one would believe you if you told them, and fuck, even if they did - you know what I’ll get?” he shouted, “A slap on the hand and fucking pat on the back. You can’t do shit to me, you worthless piece of female trash. Still wanna escape, bitch? Where would you go? You’re broken goods now. No one would want you, dyke or not.”
He pulled back, grinning, knowing he’d made me focus rather than drift away. I glared at him, and threw my head forward, slamming my forehead down on the bridge of his nose, blood spurting as it cracked under the pressure. I couldn’t help but grin - I knew it was painful, and he couldn’t see now, he’d broken my nose a few days after Selection Day. He doubled over, as I grabbed his head, pulling it into my knee, knocking a few of his teeth out. The skittering of teeth across the concrete floor announced that I had used more than enough force. Dragging my shorts up, I moved away as he held his face, trying to see through the pain. He was between me and the door.
Fuck, fuck… I need to finish this.
I glanced sideways and glimpsed the buckets. Picking up the ‘dirty’ bucket, more empty than the other, I swung it with all my strength at the side of his head, knocking him out. He thudded to the floor, head smacking the concrete. I stood
in front of him in shock. Moments passed before my body registered my mind screaming run! and moved away, a bare foot aiming a kick at his groin as I moved past him, throwing the door open, into the early afternoon sun. No idea where the hell I was, I ran as fast as I could down the track he used to drive up to the shed in.
It wasn’t until I had been thundering through the forest for some time, that I realised I hadn’t locked him in the shed. If he was conscious, he could come after me. Standing still to determine where I was, I looked behind me and took off in the forest alongside the track, far enough into the tree line that I could still keep an eye on the track, but couldn’t be seen from it. I figured that there would be a road at the end of the track, I just hoped I was right.
I stumbled out of the undergrowth, startled by the sudden afternoon brightness, after the clinging grey of the forest and the room I’d been in. Breathing hard, burning in my throat, nerves on edge, terrified he would be right behind me, I glanced around before darting out onto the road. No one was around, complete silence surrounding me as though the birds and wildlife were holding their collective breath, trying to keep my escape a secret. Sharp stones cutting into the soft flesh of my already torn feet, as I ran as fast and silent as I could towards the township, trying to keep my pounding heart and burning chest from giving me away, in case he was behind me, this being all a game to him.
I slowed as I reached the outskirts of town. I had missed Selection. I was now Non-Sel. Who would be brave enough to take me in, under punishment of imprisonment or death? I looked down at myself, torn and bleeding, cut up from fighting through the forest, running for my life. My white shirt, torn, now a filthy grey colour, a bloodied stripe down the front from my broken nose. Tan shorts now miles too big but tied on the side to keep them up. The cooling evening air stung the open and healing wounds on my back. Filthy dirt and blood caked legs, skinnier than I remembered, my bare feet slapping the asphalt as I continued to jog, stones flicking out from under my bleeding feet. God knows what my face looked like, I knew there were wounds but I haven’t seen my reflection in some time. Who would even stop for someone in my state, let alone a known Non-Sel?
Lights in the distance signalled either an oncoming car or the sentry at the edge of town. I couldn’t be certain at this distance. Creeping along the edge of the woods, enough of me in the shadows that I couldn’t be seen, able to see the road clearly. A rumbling from behind me startled me, diving into the undergrowth, my breath caught in my throat, pulse thundering in my ears, as I peered out, watching a grey utility vehicle race past. I hadn’t seen the vehicle he used to get to the room, and couldn’t remember the car I’d been forced into, so I couldn’t be too sure. My brain, thinking we’d stopped because we were safe now, tried to make me remember, biting back a sob when I recalled what had started it all. This wasn’t the time or the place to be remembering all that, I shook my head hard, and continued on towards the township, now a great grey jumble of blocks in the distance.
All I wanted was to get away. It wasn’t likely that I’d be able to get him in trouble for what he’d done, our laws stacked against me from the moment I had taken my first breath as a new-born female, never mind the rest. The cold was biting, I needed to get to some place warm soon, otherwise, my escape would be for nothing.
Stumbling back out on to the edge of the road, I forced my weary, painful legs to continue on, despite the protests from my feet and my empty stomach, muscles running on less than empty. If I stopped now, I’d never keep going, the cold would overtake me, and I’d let my body win the protest to stop, and give myself up to the elements. I was better than that, I had beat him, and I had to keep going, even if my future when I got there was uncertain. I couldn’t let him win, couldn’t let him beat me. Fatigue made my legs shake, my breath catching in my chest, and I stumbled.
“Jesus, how far is the town?” I muttered to myself, unsure where the hell I was, anyway. I peered toward the fence into town, headlights shining in the distance. Exhausted, I didn’t run into the bushes, instead standing my ground, and seeing what happened, content to just deal with anything life decided to throw at me right now. I continued walking towards the headlights, head held high, refusing to give into the impulse to look down, cringing at how ingrained my upbringing had been. The car continued towards me, slowing as its headlights flashed over my filthy, blood spattered clothes, the Selection Day clothes standing out by a country mile. I fought to keep moving, trying to ignore the creeping sensation that this was a terrible idea.
“Hey.” The car had stopped, a middle-aged woman calling out an open window, “Hey, love. What are you doing out here?”
I stopped, blinking, squinting to stare at the brunette lady peering out of her car window.
“You in trouble love? I can help.”
I squashed down a sob I had no idea was about to escape, I couldn’t afford to get comfortable just yet. “How?” I called, moving closer to the car, despite my brain screaming at me to stop, there could be others in the car, she might be one of his friends.
“You’re in Selection Day gear, I’m gathering you’re in trouble and haven’t figured out how you will get back into town?” I nodded, moving closer, “I’ve got a change of clothes in the back, it’s just me in the car. I'm getting produce from a farm up further, I can hide you under some of that to get you back into town. Past the sentry.”
“Why?”
She smiled, “Because I can’t just drive past a person bleeding on the side of the road, regardless of what the Law says. Because I can’t just drive past someone who could be my friend, or my daughter. Please just get in. We can discuss this on the way, but they’ll get suspicious if I stop for any longer.”
I nodded, climbing into the passenger’s seat through the window so an open door wouldn’t be spotted by the sentry she’d just come through.
“I’m Maria Smith. You?”
I pondered her for a long moment before answering, looking her over. Dressed in regulation greens, she was from Arator, I was obvious in my Selection Day clothing. She didn’t seem to have anything that shouted at me she was dangerous, but then again, neither had he.
“Reed,” I murmured, “Reed Taylor.”
“Ah, yes, I remember your name.”
I cringed.
“You never arrived at Selection Day, did you?”
I shook my head, not that it had been my choice not to.
“They’ve had a ‘Known Non-Sel’ out on you for months.”
“Months?” I gaped at her, I knew it had been a while, but I hadn’t realised just how long. She frowned,
“Yes, months. Everyone figured you’d run away, not ready for Selection yet. But your parents were so certain you had chosen a section to join or would stay with Pius. You lose track of time, or did you not run away?”
I frowned, looking down in the darkness at my now stinging hands.
“Um, I didn’t run away,” I bit my lip, my voice shaking despite my best efforts, “I was Taken.”
Her silence scared me, I couldn’t see her face in the darkness now, unsure if she believed me, unsure if she wasn’t just going to stop and let me out. Non-Sels who had run away, not ready to choose, were treated with disdain, but if that wasn’t the excuse, then the punishment could be crueler. A quiet hiccough from the driver’s seat startled me out of my panic.
“Damn.” She murmured, “I’m sorry, honey. On Selection Day?”
I nodded, then realised she couldn’t see me in the dim interior of her car. “Yes.” Panic slid into my voice, “Please don’t stop and let me out. Please… please, don’t make me go back there. I… I... I’ll just tell them I ran away.”
This time a sob escaped her. “Reed, I’d never do that.” She took a deep breath, “I understand too well what they would do to you if I told anyone you’d been Taken. We can just say you weren’t ready, that you ran away. But it’s been so long, I’m not sure they’d take it as truth.” She reached back behind the passengers’ seat and pulled
over a clean uniform of hers. “Here, put this on, so if they spot you in the car at the farm, they think you’re just another one of us. And climb in the back.”
I pulled the clothing on over the white t-shirt and tan shorts I had on. I wriggled my way through to the back seat.
“Love. Stay still and quiet. I will not give you up, I promise,” she said quietly as she got out.
“No, no. I can carry the first couple to the car, can you get the rest ready?” She called to the farmers she was getting produce from. She opened the back door, motioning me to the foot well. A sack over me, she placed the lighter items she had over the sack and loaded the rest of the car.
“Thank you, kind sirs, the GreyBrook government thanks you for your diligent service.” She climbed back into the car and began the drive back to town. The wounds on my back itched and stung something awful with the uncomfortable position I was now in.
“Reed, you okay back there?” she called when we were far enough away to not be overheard.
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Reed, do you know who took you?” I gulped, stunned at the forwardness of the question.
“Yes,” I squeaked, “I do.”
She sighed, “You are aware of the Law? You can’t say anything about being Taken?"
“I understand that.” I paused, relaxing as I became aware I was safer with Maria than I had been in a while, “Stupid fucking law that, but yes, I'm aware of it.”
She chuckled, sadness clear in the small sound.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you questioned the Law. Reed, what did he do?”
“Um … kept me locked in a shed in the forest outside … ah, wherever the hell we are. Beat on me, um…” I couldn’t make myself say it.
“I have to ask, love, because there is something else we need to do depending on your answer. Did he force himself on you?”
My throat constricted as I processed the question, forcing me to cough before I answered. Do I tell a complete stranger what he did? Why should I trust her? My brain kicked in at that point and reminded me she was risking her life to help me.
