Emergency Supplies

Photo credit: Robsalot (that's me!)

The square of sunlight pooled in the corner of her room. She couldn’t see the sky from the window, just the grey concrete of the building next door, but that patch of sunlight let her know the world was still out there, somewhere. She could tell time by the sun too, not just because of its steady march across her floor, day in and day out, but the way it changed as the seasons passed, long languid summer days brought a golden hue to her otherwise stark white room, while winter ushered in a cooler, more subdued glow. Or at least she assumed she was reading the seasons correctly, but she couldn’t be sure, since she couldn’t see the sky. 

There were other clues to the passage of time as well, the sound of footsteps in the hallway outside her room, the opening and closing of doors, the rhythms of the world, just outside her door. In fact she could hear the footsteps now, the main door closing, morning shift must be starting. But no, these footsteps were different, they should have turned and started growing fainter, but instead they carried on drawing nearer. That’s when she knew, this time, they were coming for her.

She felt the panic rise up within her as she sat frozen on her bed. She thought perhaps if she sat perfectly still and didn’t make a sound, the footsteps would carry on, past her room. She heard the click of the lock, the squeak of the hinges, and her door started to swing open. She closed her eyes tight, bracing for the hand on her arm, the prick of the needle. She braced for what would happen next. Where would she wake up? Who would she be this time? What would she have to do?

She heard the footsteps crossing her room until he was so close she could hear him breathing. She felt his rough hand close tight around her forearm, the cool needle against her skin.

The screams echoed down the hallway. They sounded more animal than human. Then there were more footsteps, urgent footsteps, thundering towards her room. The latch on her door clicked open. Now there was more yelling, she heard “red alert”, and “get the emergency supplies” and “one of the units has broken it’s programming”, before the emergency barrier descended, trapping her in the corner of her room. Then all was quiet again. She lowered herself to the floor, careful to avoid the pool of red seeping under the barrier. She curled her legs under her, rested her head against the wall, and watched the last rays of sunlight fade into the darkness as night descended again.