c a g e d birds c a n ' t sing

[Evelina Reshetnikova (212)]

It was in between lunch and dinner, 3:32pm to be exact, and Evelina was huddled up in the same place she usually was when her number wasn’t called and it wasn’t meal time…and it wasn’t the 12th of the month (she had a knack for being able to wake up in the morning and know what number day of the month it was, even if she wasn’t sure if it was Monday or Wednesday). Each and every moment that she could spend away from the cots and away from the labs, Evelina spent it here, holed up in the pool room. She didn’t come to swim – the pool was never filled anyway. Nope, Eva would snag her favorite book, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, from the Social Hall and dart to the deserted pool area. She’d discovered that it made for a good quiet place about a year and a half ago, and she’d been coming here ever since. It was the same routine every day – except for where exceptions were made.

She was inside the emptied pool, in the deep end, her tall, slender body shoved into the corner. The dark-haired Ukrainian had the much-read book open to her favorite part, lips moving silently as she read the lines. Originally she had picked it for its title, not even bothering to wonder what its contents were like, but now that she’d read it God knows how many times, Evelina had come to glean that she rather enjoyed the book. It seemed quite contrary to her whole “the world is going to explode on the 12th!” attitude to love reading the silly book as much as she did - After all, caged birds don't sing. But perhaps... maybe it was because she found it all so “silly” that she loved it so much. Or maybe it struck a chord within her, some connection to her erased past. Even Evelina herself wasn’t sure, but she was sure that the happier ending of the book was impossible – after all, they were all going to die.

The sky had looked rather overcast today, so Eva knew to stay away from the windows. If it rained today, she didn’t want to be able to see it. Whatever it was about the rain; she had never liked it. So she’d hole herself up in the empty pool and read, read even though she knew every line by heart. It wouldn’t be long, she knew, before someone came to find her for dinner – this had become such a frequent hiding place of hers that all the staff and most of the other residents knew where to find her. She wouldn’t be allowed to skip a meal in favor of reading; she knew that, no matter how unenthused she was to choke down the meals they cooked, they’d always come and fetch her for them and make sure she ate most of it. Why they seemed to be insistent on cooking proper meals for them and yet content to let them die as if their lives had no significance at all, was beyond Evelina. Of course, she thought the whole world was going to explode any day now, why should she care if she died in one of their twisted experiments? The answer eluded her still.

Time wore on, the clouds drifting by outside without any notice from Eva, and soon another half hour had dragged by. If she’d had a digital clock to observe it would’ve read 4:02pm in big, plain numbers. And if she’d had the courage to look outside, she’d have also noticed that the clouds had almost completely dispersed since she’d first entered the pool room just a little over three hours ago. But she remained cowering in the corner, knees pulled up to her chest under the simple white cotton dress, black rosary dangling around her neck, same as always. Her hazel eyes, a darker brown in the poorly light room, were fixed on the book’s pages, reading line after line, her lips still moving along with what she read. It was the hum drum repetition of the routine which quieted her nerves and made the whole situation rather peaceful for her. Hell, she could even face impending doom with a grain of salt.

thinking, "speaking"

[Katya Dmytruk (11)]

Katya was lucky today. She woke up knowing who she was, where she was, and how long she'd been here. Lately, she hadn't even been remembering that much. It was always just "Kat. Eleven," in her mind. As far as she knew, they'd only erased her memory once, just like everyone else. She was just the unlucky one that got so tired all the time that her brain didn't bother making connections anymore. She was lost in her own skin half the time, let alone in the gigantic building they'd all been confined to. But she must have slept well the night before, because today felt like a good day. She almost knew who she was! And with that general knowledge she came a weak sense of direction, which meant there wouldn't be any getting lost today. Inside or outside of her mind.

Sadly, however, loneliness couldn't be avoided, not even on days like this. She hadn't seen Julien since breakfast, and she'd been forced to eat alone and silently. Though, she probably would have had to endure the silence whether Jules was there or not; he wasn't exactly the talkative type. But it was nice to have someone familiar around, even if he was quiet. Even if it felt like he thoroughly hated her. If that was the case or not, Kat still vowed that she would find the boy before dinner, and not be forced to eat alone again. She just hoped that he wasn't down in those goddamn catacombs that he loved so much. She wasn't going to go down there looking for him; bad things happened down there. It was unlucky.

Bad things never happened to Jules though, at least not that kind of bad things. Maybe the universe thought he recieved enough punishment from Molonov himself that he didn't need to be cursed with the unluckiness of the catacombs too. Kat didn't know. All she knew was that she wished she had half the confidence that boy did, and even just a sliver of that brazen shamelessness he seemed to radiate.

Now, just before four o' clock last time she checked, Kat was just wandering aimlessly, hoping that fate would smile on her and she'd run into Julien unintentionally. When her feet carried her toward the pool room, she let them keep going. Even if he wasn't there, it was still a quiet place and she could just sit for a little while; after all that walking, even though she moved slow, she was exhausted. Maybe she'd fall asleep there, too, right on the edge of the pool. Would anyone care (or even notice) if she wasn't in her cot that night? Lord knows Julien wouldn't...

Her eyes scanned the pool room slowly, tiredly, and somewhat involuntarily. When she reached the edge of the pool and looked down in, she saw the figure with the book. Considering Jules was the only resident she'd seen in a long while that had picked up a book, her mind defaulted and the name slipped out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop it: "Julien!" As she said it, though, she realize that it wasn't the boy at all. It was a girl, curled up, reading a book. If she wasn't so tired, Kat might have blushed with embarassment. Instead, she crumpled slowly and steadily to the ground, pushing her legs in front of her to dangle over the edge of the pool. "Sorry," she said, not bothering to stifle her Russian accent. "I thought you were someone else."

[Evelina Reshetnikova (212)]

Again and again she read the same few lines, the repetition soothing her slightly. Her lips formed the words and soon enough her hazel eyes were zoning in on a random speck of dust without even reading the lines at all. Honestly, what was the point of getting the book if you only wanted to reread onesection. And if, on top of that, you already knew it by heart, wouldn't that entirely defeat the purpose? Mmm, well really it was just comfortable to feel the small weight of the book. As silly as it sounded, having something tangible to hold on that didn't really change much from day to day was a real comfort in this hellish place. Err, well, she really couldn't call it "hellish" either. If you excluded the derranged staff and the twisted treatments, it was almost like a resort... Yeah, okay, maybe not even then.

But it seemed like peace and quiet were out of the picture when she heard a female voice cry out "Julien!" Of course Evelina wasn't Julien, so rather than looking at the woman, she looked around anxiously, half-expecting to find some boy hidden somewhere she hadn't noticed before. But the woman apologized...and yet, she didn't leave. Ya know it would seem logical to leave after not finding the person you were clearly searching for, and yet this lady sat down on the edge of the pool and hung her legs over into its emptiness. Evelina scrunched herself up a bit more, pressing her back against the curving concrete wall as if she would be able to magically melt into it. Naturally she couldn't disappear like she wanted to, so Eve spoke up instead, the treasured book forgotten in her hands. "Are they calling for dinner now?" It was the only sort of thing she could think to say, and it had taken several seconds of silent coaxing to get herself to ask the silly question to which she already knew the answer. Her voice had been quite when she'd spoken, and a little rough, maybe slightly hoarse.

She wasn't really fond of talking to other residents; they all thought she was even more crazy than themselves. Since this dark-haired woman had come in looking for someone else, it was safe to assume it was not dinner time. But at the moment that was all Eve cared about. Since, if it was dinner, she'd have to leave the safety of her little corner in the deep end. The book, of course, could tag along to dinner. But she wouldn't need the extra comfort today; it was several numbers out from being the twelfth of the month. Evelina stared at the girl a bit, though she kept averting her eyes timidly after a few moments. Usually the only people who came in here were either menials sent to fetch her, or residents who wanted to bother her. Evelina assumed this woman wasn't the former, so therefore she had to be here to bother her.

They never believe me anyway... she thought with a touch of spitefulness, recalling every instance where she'd been looked upon as "insane". Sure she didn't consider herself "normal", but why on earth wouldn't they listen to her when she told them they were going to die?! You'd think if you knew when you were going to die you'd be at least a little appreciative to the lady who told you, but nooo, of course not. It seemed almost a little hypocritical that there were still people in here yearning to live. Um, wait, she wanted to live too - wasn't that slightly contradictory? Never mind that. The tall Ukranian woman had scrunched herself into a most uncomfortable postion, her knees brought up under the hem of the long white cotton dress. Against her chest the dark rosary stood out sharply, in just the same way her dark wavy hair stood out against her lighter skin tone. She was a slender girl, though she'd rather have a bit more meat on her bones.

thinking, "speaking"

[Katya Dmytruk (11)]

The floor around the pool was rough, made of some sort of rock that had tiny bumps and crevices in it, meant to give grip to the floor when it was wet. It was never wet, though; there was no water in the great pool, nothing to soften the abrasive texture. If Kat could run, and trip and fall, it would tear up her skin and leave a raw, bloody scrape in its wake. But as she sat there, running her fingers across the surface, it didn't have enough power to break her skin. She figured that's what she'd become, such a gentle and powerless being, flexible like her slow-moving skin, that nothing could hurt her anymore. Instead of letting the experiences cut her deep and leave bleeding scratches, she molded herself softly against the rough edge, effectively taking away whatever power it had. She was so powerless that it rendered everything else powerless, too. They couldn't hurt her.

Except Jules. While usually he was just another abrasive surface that couldn't render any damage, sometimes he was much more like a fresh razorblade. Sometimes it took hardly any pressure at all for him to cut her deep, and even she wasn't flexible enough to find her way gently around that blade. And yet, he was still the best (and only) friend she had in this forsaken place.

She didn't know the girl who was sitting in the corner of the pool; then again, Kat didn't know anyone really. She always knew Julien, and when she saw Molonov or Starikovich's face, she know they were dangerous, even if she didn't always remember they were the scientists who had been experimenting on her for six long years. But other than that, she never remembered any faces or names. Everyone else in residence at the labs was still as much strangers as the day she'd arrived in this place.

This particular stranger was as unfamiliar as the rest, and had just asked the simple question of whether they were calling for dinner. Katya shook her head, leaning to the side a little so that her arm was supporting most of her weight. Her vision was blurry with fatigue, though, and she couldn't tell from where she sat whether the stranger was looking at her book or at her, so she spoke. "Nyet. You have more than an hour, I think..." More than an hour to find him. It probably wouldn't happen.

Kat's arm was starting to tremble under her weight already; all her limbs were tired. She lowered herself a little more, until her elbow was against the rough surface, rather than the palm of her hand. She rested her head in her hand and continued to look at the stranger. There was nothing better for her eyes to wander to; the scenery here seemed to be perpetually gray, no matter where she was or what time of year it was. "What are you reading?" Kat asked, not because she wanted to know, but because it seemed rude to be sitting in silence and staring.

After but a moment, Kat's new pose had gotten sleepy again, and she lowered herself to rest her head on her arm, lying bent on the rough floor. Her eyes drifted, but she forced them open, wondering again if anyone would notice if she fell asleep right here.

notes;; Sorry for the wait, lovie.