Witness

by Lori Darnell

  I walked back to my room in a daze. I stumbled over my feet a couple of times on the way there as I got used to my new sandals, but no one around me noticed. The faces of the other children housed here were a blur. I couldn’t deal with them now. I opened my door, thankful again that I could find it on my own.

  There was a plate of food waiting for me when I returned. Bread, cheese, and a few pieces of chicken sat beside a large pitcher of water. The water was cold, the pitcher slick with condensation. There was a small metal cup next to the pitcher. I almost ran to the table. When had been the last time I had eaten or drank anything? I ate and drank until I could eat no more, belching softly with fullness.

  I lay on the bed, covering myself with the thin blanket. I was safe, warm, and well fed. That was enough for now. I would deal with the rest tomorrow. With thoughts spinning in my mind, I welcomed the quiet that oblivion could bring me.

  In the early morning hours I felt a gentle shift on the bed, and it startled me awake. I froze. I hadn’t moved. Someone was in my room. I didn’t know how long I had been asleep, but I saw a gentle glow of light flooding my little room through its tall window. I felt a warm hand touch my shoulder. My body became tense, and I forced myself prepare for anything.

  “Marcus, are you awake?” a voice whispered. “Don’t be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you; no one here will touch you without your permission. I promise.” The words were supposed to put me at ease, but it was too early to tell what his true intentions were. I looked up and saw James sitting on my bed, looking at me like a freak again, like he was waiting to see something happen. Maybe I would sprout wings. For all I knew, I would. At least then, I could fly away.

  James settled into my bed awkwardly beside me, closing his eyes. It was strange, but he didn’t seem inclined to do anything but sleep, and after a short time, I began to doze off as well. I had only known James for a few short hours, but he sort of reminded me of my Dad, and right now I really needed one. I curled into his side, and promptly fell into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 7

  James was no longer in my bed when I woke; instead, he was standing, looking out the skinny window. He saw my eyes open, and his face lighted.

  “I am going to take you to class today. You are a very special addition to this compound - from what I’ve heard from the other teachers and the Reverends, your specific talents will be exponentially greater than all the other children brought here.” James rubbed his hands together, considering.

  “I will be the one to walk you through the stages of your training. Once it is complete you will be allowed to work for the Church and live outside the compound if you wish. However, you are bound to the Church by law. So anything that is done outside these walls belongs to the Church. I know you don’t understand that now, but in time… well, it may never matter. Get dressed and meet me in the common room. After we eat, I will start the tour.” James left the room, closing the door behind him.

  I dressed quickly and ran to the common room. James was waiting. He seemed happy with my apparent enthusiasm, though it was more curiosity than actual interest. We ate in silence. I looked around the room at all of the other children. They ranged quite a bit in age. Some were younger than me and some were older, but I did notice that most of the children were close to my own age. That seemed odd; where I came from, children’s ages varied greatly. I had never seen so many children my age together in one place before.

  James showed me where to take my dishes and we walked to the washroom together. Today the room was full. Everyone so busy with their own efforts here nobody noticed me. It didn’t seem so intimidating today, still no privacy, but neither did anyone else have it. I also noticed it wasn’t just students here - priests and others working at the Church used these rooms. James sighed he walked to the cupboard with me and grabbed his own towel and soap. We went to the showers furthest from that ghastly glass wall and quickly washed. He would look over my head every once and a while, but I knew better than to look. I didn’t know what he was looking at, but he didn’t look happy. I quickly dried and dressed. We headed to the center area and he showed me how to use the sink-toilet combinations. After we had both taken care of the necessities, we quickly left the room without a backward glance. James stopped at the doorway and exhaled in relief. I looked up at him and cocked my head to the side. Curiosity was dripping with the water off my face.

  “Marcus, for a while at least, I will be sure to go in there with you every morning. I want you to know you can trust me. However, please be careful with the others. Not everyone is… how should I say… proper, with their conduct. I don’t want you involved in that.” His face was solemn. I was a little afraid of that room already, and this advice didn’t help to squash those fears. I shook my head in agreement.

  We walked out of the building and across the courtyard, the same one I could see from the washroom. I could see the priests outside, randomly walking up to the glass. It gave me the creeps. Jacob noticed and took my hand, directing me away from the scene.

  Across the courtyard there were several small buildings. These buildings seemed to be just temporary structures compared to the rest of the complex. Students, it appeared, were walking to the buildings for their individual learning sessions. I didn't know what each building meant or what was taught. It reminded me of a typical school.

  "Marcus, we are going to sit in on each phase of training. This way you will be able to see what we are going to teach you. Most of other teachers would not agree with this form of teaching, but I feel it better prepares you if you know what to expect. Besides, you don't seem to like surprises,” James stated, watching me.

  “Unfortunately, most things around here may surprise you for the first few years. I don’t think many of these will be happy surprises. Training involves a lot of discipline that can only be learned by doing. As we go in, please observe and only answer when a question is directly asked of you. However, if someone asks a question I don't want you to answer, I will touch your shoulder and you should bow your head and let me speak in your stead. I won't lie to you and I will tell you what I can. But these classes can be dangerous and I don't trust all of the teachers. Do you understand me?" I shook my head once in affirmation and looked up at him. A sincere smile crossed his face.

  As we walked to the first classroom, I considered how oddly James behaved. He was constantly on edge around me and around other people here, yet warm and friendly at the same time. Even so, I felt that I could trust James. He seemed to be genuinely interested in my welfare, not just what imagined purpose I may serve. I didn’t know what the danger was specifically, but my instincts were in agreement with what James expressed.

  More than once since arriving here, I saw members of the Church looking at or touching the children in a way that my mother would have told me was wrong. The children acted terrified of them, flinching at a touch, casting their eyes downward at an approach. I also saw several children bruised or bleeding when James took me to the main dining room. I wanted to ask, but was afraid to know the answer. I couldn’t help. I didn’t want to make it worse.

  “Marcus, this first class I will take you to – it will show you the first step of your training. Please know that the people in there without robes, the subjects, are there for the students. For a new witness, or witness-in-training, it can be quite painful, on both sides of the spectrum. Please be quiet and don’t interfere. It can be quite dangerous for both the student and the subject.”

  I couldn’t believe that they would force people to be in that room. But then again, when I was talking with James, it was easy to forget where I really was. He made me feel safe. I didn’t know if I really liked that feeling here. Apart from him, I could definitely see it wasn’t safe. James appeared to be the only one the children didn’t flinch at the sight of.

  James briskly walked ahead of me into the building and I followed as close as possible. Everyone looked up at James with a start. Apparently he was a more important individual than I had
first thought, because I immediately received several accusing and questioning stares as if to say, ‘what is he doing with James?’

  James approached a student that seemed to be working diligently with the person across from her. Her eyes were closed and her forehead was creased with pain. As we got closer the girl opened her eyes. They were a beautiful shade of green; it reminded me of the sea foam on the ocean, light and nearly translucent. She raised her eyes to mine, and I instantly glanced away, embarrassed. I didn’t want to be focused on today. I was here to watch. And strangely, I wanted to watch her.

  “Marcus, this is Jill. She has a gift for manipulation. She is trying to manipulate his mind so he thinks he is telling his secrets to a close friend. The process is to take their guard down. This isn’t how it will work with you, but Jill has quite the talent.” Following the introductions, she went back to her work. There was an older man in front of Jill, her subject. He was seated rigidly in front of her. She looked intently at the man and, without looking down at his own hands, he started writing. I looked at the paper. I could see he was writing locations, dates, names and descriptions of people. Her eyes held his as though they were locked in place until she willed otherwise. I had never seen anything like it – I was fascinated.

  We were studying the list when a loud shriek came from behind me. A student had collapsed on the floor. The subject, another older man, across from the student had collapsed as well. James abruptly turned and was quickly running to the young man who didn’t appear to be breathing. He looked at one of the older students and yelled, “You need take Marcus out of the building - wait for me outside!” The student came over to me and pulled me away from James, dragging me out the door. I wanted to know what was going on. The other students weren’t moving. Was this normal? What had happened?

  “Marcus, is it? You must be quite special. James doesn’t teach anymore. He is too far up the food chain. We are down there with oh, I would say leeches. Yeah, leeches - because we can suck the life out of someone.” The boy started laughing. I looked at him in horror. That was not funny.

  “Aw, come on, kid. I’m just playing with you. Although it isn’t far from the truth, you know.” He didn’t smile this time.

  “By the way, my name is Tim. I have been here… a while. A long while.” He looked over my head at the classroom. I spoke up for the first time since I walked into the classroom.

  “Yes, I’m Marcus. I have only been here a couple of days. Did they take you from your home too?”

  “No, I was born here.” There was a strange, bitter tone in his voice that I didn’t fully understand.

  “Are you parents here? Do you get to see them often? I don’t think I will ever see mine again. I think they must have died in the fires, after they took me.” That was the first time I had said it out loud, and the words made me sick with sadness.

  “You don’t understand this place. My mother was raped by one of the priests when she was twelve. I never knew her.” My mouth fell open; I couldn’t believe my own ears. My suspicions about this place were not far off.

  “She died giving birth to me. I was told that the priest who did it gave me to the Church in retribution for creating a sin. I am sentenced to serve the Church for life. If I don’t pick up a useful skill soon, they are going to slave me out to the Hotels, to serve my penance to God for the sin I represent.” I saw him shake with disgust. Hotel? I had heard the term before; something my parents told me about, but it seemed miles away in my memory. While I didn’t remember why, I did recall that a hotel wasn’t something you wanted to be around. This seemed to be a bit of a personal conversation for two strangers to be having, so I decided to change the subject.

  “How old are you?” I asked Tim. I couldn’t help but be curious. Many of the students were closer to my own age. He seemed as old as some of the people in robes here.

  “I’m seventeen. This is my last ditch effort. Witnesses are the most sought after, but as you saw in there, it is dangerous. People die. That kid in there, the one who collapsed? See, when we look inside a person’s head, we become a part of them. It is dangerous for both parties... if the 'volunteer' is sick or weak, the invasion can be deadly. Only a very few of the witnesses in training actually survive all of the phases. If they die while you’re in there… well, you die too.”

  Once more, I felt my jaw drop unbecomingly open. “That boy is dead?"

  “Most likely. Only a witness in their final phases of training could survive their subject dying. I am terrified of it happening to me all the time. But it is better to die under my own conditions than what I would find at the Hotel.” He shuddered again.

  James walked out of the building. He came to us and looked at Tim warily. “Tim, you can go back to class now. We have called for help to take the boy and the volunteer out of class.”

  “Is the boy dead?" I blurted out. James looked at me, wide-eyed, then over at Tim, who lowered his eyes and scooted past him and back into the class.

  “No, Marcus, he is not dead - he is in a coma. I don’t understand; the subject is dead, but not the witness. If only we had someone that could see... Maybe we could find one of the more advanced students?” James started looking around the buildings, trying to think of someone who could help. "It isn't natural. The boy should have died with the subject. Something isn't right."

  James seemed a bit desperate, which in turn made me anxious. I felt heat rushing to my head, and quickly closed my eyes. This was not the best time. Behind my eyelids, I saw the boy on the floor, and then I saw the man across from him. There appeared to be several strands of glittering thread binding the boy and the subject together. A voice, small but commanding demanded, ‘Go in there and show them what they can’t see.’ I felt the spine-chilling cold that told me I could open my eyes. I was crying, though I didn’t know it until James wiped the tears from my face.

  “Marcus, there is nothing we can do. But maybe I could find one of the advanced students. Maybe there is still a way,” he mumbled, doubt evident in his voice.

  My focus was still locked on the voice that spoke to me, compelling me to action. I didn’t feel like I had the choice to ignore it. I pushed past a startled James and walked back into the classroom. It was still busy, though more somber. All of the other students were back to working with their subjects and didn’t pay any attention to me. The comatose boy was as still as death lying on the floor, but someone had moved him into a more comfortable looking position; the dead man sprawled across from him hadn’t been touched.

  I looked at the boy. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. I looked at Jill again and decided to mimic her actions. She touched the face of the subject across from her, so I did the same to the boy on the floor. I closed my eyes and waited. I could hear James running into the classroom.

  “Marcus! NO!” His voice was frantic, trying to get through to me. I could hear the nervous murmurs of the other students; everyone was turning to stare at me, but I did not let that stop me. I had to listen to that voice. I was supposed to do this. I had to show James what I could do.

  I waited, clearing my mind. Weights seemed to be lifting inside my head, and heat crept into my spine. A vision? Maybe this was how I was going to look inside. James had told me it would be different for me than for everyone else. I waited for the pictures to come.

  It didn’t take long. I saw the boy on the floor. He was sitting across from the subject, who wasn’t dead yet. All of a sudden, the subject wasn’t breathing. It seemed as though he just stopped. I looked back at the boy. He grabbed his throat, as though he were being choked. I could feel the near invisible hands choking the boy. The subject was concentrating hard. I could feel the sharp pain in the back of his head, the rush of heat, the dizziness, and then nothing – the subject was dead. Then the boy across from him collapsed, but the transparent hands were still there. He couldn’t breathe.

  I had to break the connection. I saw my own hands on the boy, felt the solidness of him. I touched his throat
, and the invisible hands disappeared, whooshing away like the final phantom echoes of a dying man, whisking the vision along with it. I felt a cold chill, and let my hands fall to my sides. As soon as I stopped shivering, I opened my eyes.

  James was holding me by the arms, trying to break my connection. The boy was staring up at me, shaken but conscious. He was ok, I had done it. I got up and the boy grabbed my hand. His eyes were shiny with tears; he seemed to be struggling to say something, but no words came. I smiled back at him. James snatched my arm and pulled me from the floor. I recoiled at his apparent anger, but his grip was tight and I couldn’t move.

  “You and I are leaving. Now!” This was a new side of James, and I didn’t like it. Without another word, he bodily forced me out of the classroom and down the walkway, dragging me quicker than my shorter legs would move, out of sight.

  Chapter 8

  James led me to a different area of the courtyard than we walked through earlier this morning. Our new direction led toward the main building of the complex but then split off into a narrow corridor. He turned sharply toward this corridor, pulling me briskly alongside him.

  My mind wouldn’t calm. Had I made a mistake? I couldn’t see how saving the boy could be a mistake. What choice did I have? The boy would have died if I didn’t help, I was positive of it. True, I had been warned not to show anyone what I was capable of, but they didn’t want him to die, surely? By James’ reaction, though, maybe his death would have been preferable.

  The corridor opened into another small courtyard. This area was full of wonderful aromas; a pungent variety of earthy and spicy scents filled the air. A large herb garden came into view, along with a narrow gravel path that wound through the garden which was only wide enough for a single person. I was lagging behind James; he suddenly noticed my struggle to keep up, and in one swift motion he pulled me forward and reached down to pick me up. "Marcus, we need to keep going. I need to get you out of sight." He continued forward, holding me close.