Abi
Chapter 1
She woke up with a jolt, back aching. Where was she? What was she? She didn’t know. All she did know was something had changed. Looking up, she surveyed the rows and rows of sleeping others around her. What were they? Were they the same as her?
Suddenly thousands of pairs of eyes shot open simultaneously. Thousands of feet hit the floor as all at once every creature in the room was up. She scrambled to copy, stubbing a bare toe on the cold metal frame of her bunk. Droplets sprung into the corners of her eyes, as a debilitatingly unpleasant sensation seared through her foot. She took a deep breath to steady herself, placing her foot down gingerly on the gritty ground.
They began shuffling towards the doors. She copied, unsure of why, but knowing she had done this in every light time ever. Somehow she knew that she had to be in her place in rank. She was #C674. That was her place. Her purpose was to work. Their purpose was to work. At least that was how it was before. Now the only truth she had ever known didn’t feel like the truth at all. She wasn’t sure what was the truth, but she didn’t understand why that should be the truth. What were they working on? Why? For what or whom?
She had reached her holder. She placed her feet carefully in their places and waited. A canister filled with a yellow fluid shot out from the wall towards her. A sharp pain shot through her upper arm, as a sharp prong stabbed into her and the fluid was forced into her veins. Feeling somewhat revived, she removed her feet from their places, picked up her mallet and shuffled to her place in the production line. #C674’s job was to pound rocks into a fine powder, but she wasn’t sure that she was #C674 any longer. She reached up and pulled an oxygen mask from above her head. Jamming it over her mouth, she lifted her mallet, bringing it crashing down onto the pile of gems. Over and over she pounded them, squinting to stop the sharp dust scratching her eyes.
This continued. The noise and heat were unbearable. They didn’t seem to mind at all; she did. She presumed that this was all she’d ever done, but then why did it feel so different this time? A fuzzy memory broke through to the surface of her consciousness- she remembered feeling a sense of completion, of rightness when her mallet crushed down. She remembered feeling a satisfaction in her oneness with the others. That had been her work- their work. Where was that feeling now? All she felt was a heavy sense of isolation and emptiness. She was not the same as these others any more. Maybe she never had been really, but she had always felt that she was.
A vision of an eternity in which all she did was lift and slam and lift and slam her mallet hit her, sending a shockwave of pain through her chest. Her breath quickened and she felt her blood pounding in her ears. Bile rose in her throat. Choking it back down, she glanced around. If she looked as different as she felt, no one had noticed. Silently resolving to keep better control over these newly discovered sensations, she continued her work, determined that she wouldn’t remain there long.