Library of Rain

Taking a Walk

It had been a few days since the messages had first appeared, and Thirty-six was still trying to process all the information she had received. There was much more information than the Keepers had ever shared with the children. Some of the information contradicted what the Keepers taught as well. 

One thing that caught her interest gave her a good idea of where she was. Some slavers would take all the offspring of their slaves and keep them in pens until they were old enough to be sent to work some kind of physical job. This usually happened around the age of ten. Keeping the children ignorant and isolated was supposed to make them scared of the world and their new masters. In truth, it made some of them unstable. Thirty-six was ten years old, according to the message. They would soon take her out of the pen. 

She squirmed in her lonely corner, scared of what would await her once she was sent off but excited to see the sky. She didn’t have any memories of the sky, but she had gained an understanding of what it was through the memory packet past her smuggled her; if it was as beautiful as it sounded, she couldn’t wait to see it.

Another important thing she learned was her colors. Why was this important? Because she now knew what color the messages glowed, allowing her to give it a proper name, ‘Mr. Purple’. She had also decided that Mr. Purple was male and that he was her best friend. After all, when she asked Mr. Purple something, he answered her. He may do it the same way every time, but that didn’t matter. At least he would talk to her. 

Thirty-six was a little disappointed that, other than the limited skills section disappearing, nothing had changed in Mr. Purples' messages since the first day.

Giving Mr. Purple a name also made Thirty-six realize how much she disliked her name. Thirty-six wasn't a name; it was a number. And not even a cute one. She wanted a new name. However, nothing in the pen gave her much inspiration, and the knowledge she got from the skill had no emotions attached. How was she supposed to find a name that spoke to her with only dead knowledge? She put off choosing a name for herself until she found one she liked.

Thirty-six snapped her attention to the door of the underground room, which was loudly unbolted. Was it time? Were they finally going to be taken outside? The door opened, and six older men and women, the Keepers, entered the underground room. Thirty-six had only seen groups this big come down here when leading a pen of children out of the room. Thirty-six’s heart started pounding with excitement. It was finally time to leave this place.

Shortly after, Thirty-six was in the middle of a scared group of children as the Keepers led them up a set of stairs—three Keepers in front and three behind. The walls of the staircase, covered in a coat of cream-colored paint, were much nicer than the underground room. Thirty-six was proud that she could now name the color. 

After the staircase, the Keepers led them through a hallway with dark wood paneling on the walls and ceiling. It was really pretty. Thirty-six thought about changing her name to Wood. After a bit of consideration, she discarded the idea. It didn’t feel right to her.

They followed the Keepers through a door to a room with a large wooden tub big enough for all the children to fit in together. 

“Strip and get in.” an older female keeper with a scarred face said. Her voice had no trace of warmth in it. 

Many of the children jumped. They all started taking the rags they called clothes off. Once the children got in the tub, whose water was ice cold, four of the younger Keepers grabbed bars of yellowish soap and began roughly washing the kids. There was more than one yelp as the rough soap pulled dirt and dead skin off a kid. 

When it was Thirty-six’s turn, she gritted her teeth at the unpleasant sensation. The incredibly gritty soap that felt like it was trying to rip her skin right off. Really, what was in this stuff? It hurt. The only good thing about this was that the Keepers didn’t seem to want to waste their time doing this either, so her cleaning was brief. 

After the scrubbing, the Keepers ordered them out of the tub, whose water had turned a murky black color. They lined up and had buckets of cold water poured over their heads to wash off the soap and grimy water. Thirty-six was astonished to see her hair change from a murky gray-brown to pure black. She really liked the color. Looking around, most children and Keepers had red or blond hair. That made hers special. 

She resisted the urge to hug her hair as they were led through the washroom to a small room with a tattered gray couch and splintered wooden table. One look at the table and Thirty-six was glad she hadn’t decided to change her name to Wood. The old lady keeper looked at the children and gave them another set of terse instructions. 

“Wait here until we come for you. A Keeper will come for you one at a time. Don’t argue”.

And with that, they left the room, locking the doors behind them. 

Based on her knowledge, Thirty-six figured she and the others would be auctioned off. If she could find a way to escape before that happened, it would be easier than trying to escape her new masters. Plus, the idea of being sold hurt her pride.

She gave the room a more thorough scan. There wasn’t much in this room, sturdy gray walls and a tattered couch. Wall-mounted candle sticks to high up reach lit the whole place. The children, still naked, huddled in their groups. More than a few were sniffling and shivering. 

All in all, not much to use for escape. Unless… 

She walked over to the door they had come in from and tried the handle. It was locked. She tried again, this time pushing her power into it. There was a strange sensation of something moving through her body into the door.

She tried the handle again. This time, it opened.

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