Ghetto

by M L Sparrow

  “I’m Sunny,” I respond automatically, though it’s unnecessary.

  “I know,” she smirks. “So, does comin’ into the city make you want to go home?”

  “No,” I answer truthfully after a moment of thought, “being there reminded me of how many things I used to take for granted.”

  Once upon a time, not long ago, I had thought nothing of going to posh restaurants most nights with my dad – accompanied by Ludo and my dads’ two human bodyguards – and after we had eaten our fill, usually leaving leftovers to be thrown away, we would stroll down the street and the shop owners would open their stores after hours just so that we could have a look. Granted, in a way it had been a charmed life, but in other ways it hadn’t been a life at all; it had never made me happy or content, it had merely kept me entertained.

  The guys push the trolleys for well over a mile, before letting us girls have a turn for a short while, only to complain that we’re going too slowly and taking over again. To be fair though, the loaded trolleys probably weigh more than both Jai and I combined. Returning to the back of the line, Jai winks and flashes me a grin, but I’m a little irritated at being passed over and sent to the back as if I’m useless. That resentment soon disappears by the time we reach our destination, because the men, all except Sin, who is suffering in silence, are all complaining about tired muscles and blistered hands.

  “Stop here,” Sin calls, the trolleys grinding along the rail as they come to a halt. “It’s light out by now, we’ll leave the stuff here ‘til tonight.”

  “Oh, thank God…” someone groans.

  “I’m dying,” someone else whines, panting heavily.

  “Since you’re still flappin’ your gums, I doubt that,” Jai comments wryly.

  “Quit poutin’ and shine a torch this way,” Sin commands; the trail of lights had guttered out a while back, leaving us to walk along in the pitch black. We hadn’t bothered switching on the torches until now because it was easy enough to follow the path even in the dark, but now several torches flicker to life, turning towards the sound of Sin’s voice, illuminating his angular face and making the blond of his hair appear to glow. In unison, the beams of light turn to the right, showing us the way out. Abandoning the trolleys until later, we clamber up onto the platform and head towards the stairs.

  This time we come up wedged between two buildings; literally, there’s not even enough room for me to walk straight without my shoulders scraping the brick walls on either side of me, so in the end I crab walk my way out to the street, where I blink up at the sun. After so many hours of darkness the sun is painfully bright and I shield my eyes as I look around, surprised to find that Base is only a couple of buildings down.

  Appearing beside me, Sin takes hold of my elbow and starts walking. “Don’t just stand there.”

  We return to Base, only to leave again that night when it gets dark to complete our task and when we’re finished I’m utterly exhausted, but then, nowadays, that seems to be a permanent condition. Once we’re done and the boxes of food are carefully stored in the canteen, I give a sigh of relief, glad that the day’s over, and tumble into bed.

  Chapter 15

  My perpetual tiredness continues over the next few days and the concerns over my health intensify, especially since the bruises inflicted by Ely, down in the tunnels, refuse to fade. Both of these symptoms also draw notice from Sin, my friends and even several of the men I play video games with.

  “You’re losing your touch,” Gary grins as he slaughters me onscreen for the third time.

  Dropping the controller onto the seat beside me, I rub my itching eyes, “I’m going to bed, I’m exhausted.”

  “Lightweight,” someone calls.

  “Are you okay?” Kit asks as I get up to leave, a concerned frown on his face.

  I force myself to smile at him as I walk past the sofa, eliciting boos from the other guys as I momentarily block the TV screen. “I’m fine, just a little tired.”

  The line between his eyebrows deepens. “It’s only six, it’s not even dark out yet.”

  “I think I might be coming down with something.” Not exactly a lie.

  “Oh, okay. Well, I hope you feel better in the morning.”

  “Thanks,” I murmur, heading towards the door. Out in the hallway, Sin is talking to someone near the front door. I’m not heading that way, so I just raise a hand in greeting, which he returns in the form of a nod, and carry on walking. A few steps and something drops to the floor at my feet, a slash of red. Confused, I glance up at the ceiling, but there doesn’t appear to be anything leaking through from the floor above. It’s only when I feel something warm and salty touch my lips that I lift a hand to investigate. My fingers come away dripping with blood.

  I shouldn’t really be surprised, this has happened hundreds of times before, but I am. It always shocks me to see the physical evidence of my otherwise internal disease.

  “Jesus,” I hiss between my teeth, pinching the bridge of my nose and lifting the bottom of my shirt to staunch the blood flow.

  A touch on my shoulder makes me jump, dripping more blood on the floor, and I turn to see Sin. “Hey, are you…” His words stop abruptly when he sees my face, eyes widening. “Fuck, you’re bleedin’.” Hand tightening on my shoulder, he uses the other one to tip my chin up, ordering, “Lean your head back.”

  Jerkily, I shake my head; you’re not supposed to lean your head back when you have a nose bleed in case it goes down your throat and chokes you. Instead I say thickly, “Get peas.”

  “What?”

  “Peas,” I try to say the word louder, but they’re muffled by my bloody shirt, “get frozen peas.” However, Sin still manages to understand and hurries off, disappearing into the canteen, whilst I continue on to my room, feeling faintly lightheaded as I push open the door. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I lean forward, bracing my elbows on my knees, and wait for Sin. It doesn’t take him long to appear with the goods.

  “We don’t have any peas,” he explains, handing me a dripping tea towel, “so I got ice, but the electrics been off for a while so it’s kinda melted.” Holding the bundle against my nose, I cringe as the touch of ice freezes the delicate bones and making my nostrils burn with cold. It’s such a horrible sensation that I instinctively begin to pull it away, but Sin’s hand covers mine, holding it in place.

  We don’t talk for several minutes, we just sit there, me on the bed and him crouched in front of me, until the bleeding has stopped and the ice has completely melted to drip between our fingers. Dropping the sodden tea towel on the floor, I gently probe at my nose, happy to find no more fresh blood leaking out, before dropping my eyes to my stained shirt.

  “Well, this is ruined,” I huff, plucking at the material. It really is a shame, since out of the three shirts I owned this had been my favourite, simply because it was the only one that actually fit properly.

  “Who cares about the shirt?” Sin snaps, “You just lost a shit load of blood, you feelin’ okay?”

  After taking a moment to examine myself, I nod; I’m tired and achy, but no more so than usual and the faint headedness is almost gone. “Honestly, I’m alright,” I reassure him when he continues to look unsure, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder, before re-evaluating and drawing it back, because my fingers are still smeared with blood and I don’t want to ruin his clothes as well, “but I do desperately need a shower.”

  “Okay,” he pushes easily to his feet and extends a hand to help me up, placing the other low on my back once I’m standing, using it to steer me towards the door as if I’m an invalid. I allow this treatment until we reach the bathroom and he tries to come in with me.

  “Whoa there,” I halt him with an out held hand, “you’re not coming in with me. We’ve been there, done that.”

  At least he has the grace to look a little ashamed by his previous actions, though he doesn’t let the issue go, arguing, “You might fall and hurt yourself.”

  “I’ll be car
eful,” I assure him, already moving to shut the door on him. “Why don’t you wait out here and I’ll yell if I need you? Also, can you grab me a clean shirt, I forgot to pick one up?”

  “If I do that, how will I hear you yell?”

  Rolling my eyes, I lean against the doorframe. “I promise not to get into the shower until you come back.”

  Clearly, Sin doesn’t expect me to keep my word, which is why he’s so reluctant to leave, it’s also the reason I do wait for him to return before stepping foot in the shower, after taking the clean, navy blue vest-top from his hands. Getting out of the cubical several minutes later, I stand in front of the sink and inspect myself in the grubby mirror. There’s still flakes of dried blood around my nostrils, which I scrub away with the corner of my towel, but I don’t think I look any different. Maybe a little thinner. I’m a bit pale and I still have the shadow of a bruise over my right cheekbone, but I don’t yet look ill, just rundown. A loud knock on the door jolts me out of my reprieve and I jump, glancing back over my shoulder at the locked door.

  “You almost done in there?” Sin yells.

  “A bit of patience wouldn’t go amiss,” I call back.

  “Sure you’re okay?”

  “I’d be even better if you stopped asking me that question.” After a short pause, I take pity on him, saying, “I’ll be out in five minutes.”

  True to my word, I hurry through brushing my teeth and drag on my clothes, finger combing my hair as I step out into the hall. Holding out my arms, I turn in a slow circle, proclaiming, “Good as new.” Quirking an eyebrow, Sin gives me a look which clearly calls me a liar, but he doesn’t say anything as he walks me back to my room and as we walk I slip my hand into his, enjoying the feeling of another life force attached to mine, chasing away the loneliness.

  When we reach our destination, I’m not ready to go. Pushing open the door with his free hand, he leans down to kiss my cheek and starts to say goodbye, but I clench my fingers around his. “Don’t go,” I whisper, “stay with me tonight.”

  Tilting his head, he studies me with uncertain eyes, “You want to…”

  Interrupting him with a shake of my head, I explain, “Not sex, I’m not ready for that. Will you just sleep beside me?”

  “You need to rest and I’ve got stuff to do.”

  “Please.” I feel the sting of rejection, but he has yet to say no outright, the one tiny word that would have shattered me. Staring into my pleading eyes, his lips press tightly together and he shifts uncomfortably. Then he nods.

  Hand in hand, we walk into the room, only releasing our linked fingers when we reach the bed. Pulling off my shoes, I keep the rest of my clothes on and climb into bed, pulling the covers up over me. Sin pads over to turn off the light and draw the curtains before getting in beside me. Mine is only a narrow single bed, so it takes some manoeuvring before we’re comfortable. In the end we both lay on our sides, facing one another, with one of his arms stretched out beneath our shared pillow and my hands tucked between our bodies. Hesitantly, he reaches out his free arm and drapes it over my waist, causing me to shiver in reaction and edge closer until our foreheads touch. Slowly, my eyes drift shut, yet my mind refuses to shut down and let me sleep, despite my exhausted body.

  There is a malevolent, black shadow hovering over my bed. It’s named Death. As long as I’m awake I can fight it off. Unrealistically, I believe sheer force of will and stubborn determination will keep me alive. However, when I fall asleep there’s only a fifty-fifty chance whether or not I will open my eyes again. The truth is I’m scared to close my eyes, but more than that, I don’t want to die alone and death is almost inevitable because I refuse to tell Sin about my condition yet because I’m scared that he’ll make me leave the Ghetto and I may never find my way back.

  Once I do fall asleep, my sleep is deep and dreamless. I awake with the sun peeking through the curtains and someone stroking the hair back from my face.

  “Hey,” Sin murmurs, his breath warm on my cheek, “I gotta go, but didn’t wanna just leave.”

  Bleary eyed and only half awake, his consideration makes my stomach flutter with happiness.

  Stifling a yawn, I reach up to touch my fingertips to the hollow beneath his cheekbone. “That’s really sweet. Where are you going?”

  “There’s a buildin’ that’s fallin’ down on the east side, we’re gunna go see if we can patch it up, ‘else we’ll have to find somewhere else for the people livin’ there to go.”

  “Okay,” I yawn widely, “would you like me to come and help?”

  A half smile tilts up one side of his mouth. “Nah, it’s still early. Go back to bed for a bit and come find me later.”

  “Okay,” I repeat, eyes already drifting shut once more, body melting into the mattress, “see you later, have fun.” His responding chuckle makes me force my eyelids open, just in time to see him climb off the bed. Reaching out a heavy hand, I snag the back of his shirt, teasing sleepily, “Don’t I get a goodbye kiss.”

  This time he laughs outright, leaning down to kiss the pout from my lips. “Happy now?”

  “Extremely.”

  “Good, I gotta be off.”

  Hugging my pillow, I watch his retreating back, trying to convince myself to get up and start doing any one of the many things I have on my list for today. All my body wants to do is sleep, but my mind somehow persuades it otherwise and I struggle out of bed. Kneeling on the hardwood floor, I fish my newest project out from under the bed. At the moment it’s just a jumbled mess of wires with a tiny camera attached to one end. Though it’s not pretty, it’s almost finished. A few tweaks here and there and it’ll be ready for action.

  Having spent most of the morning perfecting my camcorder, I decide to head out around midday in order to give my creation a trial run. Sin had obviously decided that it is safe enough to disregard our ‘stay-inside’ rule, so I assumed I could do the same. Plus he’d told me to come find him later.

  Pushing aside my worries about the patrols, I pull on my shoes and head towards the front door, detouring to the rec-room in order to grab one of the rough maps of the Ghetto which are hidden beneath one of the sofa cushions. In red, the check-points and regular patrols are marked, the maps having been drawn up for that reason, so that the rebels knew which areas to avoid. Despite my reasoning, stepping outside sends a forbidden thrill through me; I have been up to the roof several times during my confinement, but this was the first time I’d been out on the streets since the delivery. The air is fresh, at least as fresh as it gets around here, and the breeze on my face is refreshing, the heat of the sun erasing all my remaining doubts about this excursion. My creation is small and light in my hand, yet solid, my fingers curling around it to create a protective cage.

  Following the map proves to be harder than I first anticipated, since whoever had drawn it had left out quite a lot and I’m not exactly sure where Sin is anyway, except that he’s on the east side of the Ghetto. After a while I simply end up wondering around. I get some good footage that way. I film a gang of young lads playing a game akin to football with an old tin can, bare feet and no shirts, revealing their bony, underfed torsos. A mother sits on the curb, rocking a shrieking baby. I also stop several people in the street to ask them their reasons for being in the Ghetto. One said their dad was done for not paying his credit card bill, so the whole family was sent down until he could pay the money, which was impossible to do stuck in the Ghetto. Another said he’d been sentenced to life in the Ghetto for stealing a single loaf of bread because he was starving. A third told me he’d been put here as a child, because he was an orphan, abandoned to the care system, but all the homes he’d been sent to had rejected him because he was ‘too hard to handle’. An old man, sitting on a doorstep told me he’d once been a political cartoonist, but my dad had taken offense at one of his drawings. That tale made me flinch. My dads’ actions were not mine, so why did I feel partially responsible for all this?

  Amid all these horror stories, I
manage to skirt around the patrols and find my way to the place where Sin and a group of other guys are working, with the help of several kindly strangers who point me in the right direction.

  Standing back, I watch in fascination as they literally prop a cracked wall up with long planks of wood and metal. Quickly, I snap a few pictures. Clearly no one here had ever been a builder or structural engineer. Health and safety would have a field day with this. It was obvious their efforts would have little effect, already the wall was sagging against the supports, leaning perilously to the right. Not only was the repair job dangerous, but the guys were also walking around shirtless in the summer heat, some had even forgone shoes. All except Sin, whose long sleeved shirt was soaked through with sweat and clinging to his chest and arms. Weaving through the mess of workmen, I duck beneath a thick pole being carried by three men – it looks like they’d pulled down a lamppost – and head over to him.

  Touching my fingertips to Sin’s back to get his attention, I point out, “You know you draw more attention to yourself like that, you stick out like a sore thumb wearing a long sleeved shirt. You should try to blend in more.”

  Having turned to face me, Sin frowns, “You know I can’t.”

  “It’s already common knowledge that you have no Brand,” I say gently, keeping my voice low so only the two of us can hear, “so stop trying to hide it. There’s no point.” For a moment he continues to frown at me, before turning away, obviously planning to ignore my advice. I shrug and move back, lifting my little camera to film them hard at work, testing out different angles. I wile away most of the afternoon doing this, even venturing inside the dilapidated building, until Sin appears beside me and announces they’re done for the day.

  “Did you get everything sorted?” I ask.

  Snorting derisively, he shakes his head, “It’s a patch-up job, won’t last long, but no one had any better ideas.”

  “What’s being done about the residence?”

  “The right half of the building has been cleared and I got people tryin’ to find somewhere for them to stay.”