by Joni Bing
I woke up with blurry eyesight to a white ceiling fan cycling above me and thick clouds of smoke suffocating the red lit room. My eyes felt like heavy lead as I tried to lift them but they shut the moment I could see through slit vision. I felt drugged, heavily. After taking a determined breath, I lifted myself up slowly and slid my burning eyes over at some guy smoking who knows what in a wooden chair close to the bed I was laying on. I didn't freak. I had every reason to, I just didn't see the point. Plus, I felt fine. I felt safe. I wasn't anymore injured than I was when I escaped the NR center. I was safe. In fact, I felt more comfortable than I ever have in any other bed before-even my own sleep pod back home. I couldn't believe that level of comfort was possible in the black itchy suit the NRs put me in back at Nation Resources.
Then, I looked down and there was just one little error to my thoughts: I wasn't in the NR jumpsuit anymore.
That's when I freaked.
I screamed as I rose in the bed like I woke up from a nightmare. The guy beside me looked over and yelled, “Hey, she's awake!”
I heard footsteps rush in quick and there they stood. Two more guys entered the room, both appearing with unwelcoming expressions on their faces and arms crossed in preconceived judgement based on my outburst.
“Don't any of you come near me! You've seen enough tonight, you freakin' creeps!”
“You need to chill out! We saved your ass,” the boy beside me said coolly. He rose from the seat and dragged his cigarette.
“Saved me? I was fine! I don't need you!”
“Hey!”
The guy that really had “saved me”, the dark skinned guy with the ON afro and red headband tied around his forehead, walked past the boys at the door and confronted me.
“Remember me?”
“How could I forget?” I asked him sarcasmly.
“We really are trying to help you-”
“Then, explain this!” I yelled. I popped the neck of the gray shirt on me that read Ivy League in maroon block letters.
“You're comfortable, aren't you?”
I stared him down and he stared right back. More respect. My mother didn't even do that. Not after she became a Mutual. I slumped down from standing atop the bed on my knees to sitting.
“Never question hospitable comfort, especially comfort you haven't earned yet.”
With that, he walked out and the others except the boy next to me Followed.
“Why am I here? What do you guys want from me?”
“Isn't it obvious? We need a housemom,” the boy beside the bed smirked.
I narrowed my eyes and looked away from him.
He laughed, “Listen, they're not what you think. They want to protect you.”
“And, what do you want?” I asked, catching on.
“You're different,” he said. He stood again. “It's too soon to tell.”
And, with that, I was alone.