He brought me beneath the city. It was something I’d only heard about, and when I had heard of it, it was revered as a legend. I was awed. It wasn’t the fact that there was an under city. It was the fact that I was standing in the legend, looking at the walls that contained muffled memories and mysteries.
Everything was white. The walls were smudgeless. And there were no shadows -- everything was brightly lit. Against the starchy cleanness of this place it was as if I was the shadow. And I couldn’t help but think that the people underground were afraid of the dark.
Braille led me through a maze of hallways. He didn’t prod me from behind, or lead me from ahead. He was content to lead, and I was content to follow. Maybe he was trusting me again.
After a few minutes of walking Braille opened a door. We went inside. There was on long plastic table in the room with three people seated around it. This was the only thing that I noticed because it was utterly captivating.
There were two boys and one girl. My gaze swept to the boy on the left. Tattoos scrawled up past his shirt onto his neck. His hair stuck in every direction, and his ears were riddled with piercings. I met his gaze for a moment, and was caught in a gaze of hatred. How such blue eyes could be so steel with hatred, I don’t know. I looked away in that moment, afraid to study him more.
“This is Zion.” Braille said, gesturing to the boy on the left. “And this is Traedith, but we call him Trey.”
The next boy was afraid. It was evident in his posture, in the way he hunched in his chair and didn’t meet my gaze for more than an instant. He had black hair and looked emo.
Before Braille could introduce her, the girl spoke. “Hi,” she waved. “I’m Amelie.” I couldn’t help but smile back at her beaming face. Amelie was pretty, her light blonde curls cascaded around her shoulders. I felt a twinge of jealousy, but it vanished the moment I saw her smile again.
“And this,” Braellen said, gesturing to me, trying to continue, “is,”
I interrupted. “I’m Mace. I mean, Mason.”
“She’s another one. Honesty.” Braellen said.
The room was silent. I looked around the table again, then at Braellen. Why were they all watching me? The seconds pounded on, longer and longer. I shifted my stance and waited a few more moments. “Why are we here?” No one answered.
“I’m done.” I said, and walked out.
I ran down the hallways, but wasn’t trying to get away -- not trying to get away from this place anyway. I was escaping from the pressure. Escaping from the change. After I tired myself out I crawled into the space beneath a staircase and went to sleep. It was my escape.
I am not a person that should be kept in suspense. I am not easily held in suspense, but when I am I do not handle it well. I never have. When I woke up I was so suspenseful that I was anxious. And it was not because I didn’t know where I was. I wasn’t completely lost; I did know my general location, but I was trying to make my way back to the room that I had fled. That was not easy when all the hallways were a spotless white.
Creeping down the hallways, I felt like an intruder. I tried desperately not to show it, but I knew that it was not working. It was eerily quiet, and I became so engulfed in the silence and the sound of my own footsteps that I did not notice Zion behind me until he spoke.
“What are you doing, Mason.” His hard voice made it sound like a demand.
“Uh, nothing.” I stuttered. “ And it’s Mace.” I didn’t quite know what to say when he was scowling at me.
“It doesn’t matter what I call you.” He said. “I came to tell you something. Something that Braellen doesn’t want to tell you.”
A secret. The idea of hearing a secret transformed my anxiety into anticipation. “Does it have anything to do with why I’m here?”
“I has everything to do with it.” His eyes caught a spark from my instant curiosity and blazed with passion. For a moment it sent a pang of fear through me, and I tensed. But I was too curious.
“Tell me.” I said. And I sat down against the wall to listen.
